#tackling anxiety

[harrison-abbott]

Anxiety can be a monster. Stuck in a hot room without much air. Or, locked in a box and banging on the walls and nobody can hear you screaming. Worry, fear. They can make you do mad things.

Thumping, wild mentality; it can seem like you will lose control of your mind and never have it back again …

But, these periods of panic always pass. And they always seem longer than they actually are: simply because you are panicking and not thinking rapidly.

Try to station your thinking. Observe the situation without such dread. And remember – how many times has something you’ve worried about actually come true? Where you’ve lost all your money and have starved, or that you’ve been stranded in a foreign nation after missing your flight.

People, too, can help you out. Because they don’t fret as much as you do. Call them up. Tell them the situation and their calm voice will aid your troubles.

Relax. It’s not easy, I know. And I’m not exactly a perfect, peaceful man, by any means. I’m conflicted and have problems just as much as anybody. I am also trying to reverse them, and hopefully influence other people along the path to change. Changing for the healthier route.

[Also. There’s one bit that’s often helpful in stressful times. It’s real uncomplicated. Just remember times when you made somebody laugh. When you made a joke and it got a chuckle. Even if you aren’t the greatest comedian, there will be a moment where there was a smile or giggle. It’ll cheer you up. Will work.]

[befuddled-calico-whump]

told my friend today about whump, i guess she didn't know i was into it. anyway she was kinda freaked out, like. now i feel insecure. i don't think there's anything wrong with it, it's just a genre of hurt/comfort some people happen to enjoy. eh. i'm feeling weird about it so i just wanted to vent to you sdfgjklshd hope that's ok

This has been sitting for a while and I apologize 😭😭

but yeah, there's nothing to feel weird about or be ashamed of! People like different types of fiction, and it all comes down to enjoyment and (often, but not always) emotional release.

I hate sad books. The kind designed to make you cry, that have a total downer ending with maybe a single spot of hope. I can't comprehend ever wanting to read one, but some people out there love that kind of thing, and that's okay.

I'm not a huge fan of pulpy, shock-value based work, but there's a ton of people who adore that kind of thing, and read it as a kind of brain candy, and that's fine!

I'm not a fan of romance as the main genre, and such a thing just purely doesn't interest me, but some people have that as a favorite. Same can be said for horror. Plenty of people don't understand liking horror, but it's a popular genre for a reason.

Everyone has different tastes, some are "weirder" than others, and that's perfectly fine :)

[pertinasities]

little starter call perhaps to get the ball rolling? specify muse pls <3

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Anyone else out here haunted by the unknowns of recovery?

[puuuders]

Y'all I just made my first therapy appointment (after a much needed kick in the ass last night)

Feeling good, very demure. Time to finish page 1 of my smut comic that idk what to name 😈

[arlo-venn]

Arlo did a pretty good job for his first time at the vet since CareCenter threw a towel over his head and tackled him to the floor and I am very proud of him

[shima-draws]

I had a conversation with my mom about commissions--she’s of the opinion that you shouldn’t have to wait super long to get what you paid for. I’m the opposite; I think artists should be able to take as long as they need to finish a commission, and I’m totally cool with waiting for months even for them to get back to me. Surprisingly enough I’m very patient when it comes to commissioning other people lol. Maybe I just think that way bc I’m an artist myself so I totally get the struggle. (And I also take time with my comms too.) My mom is not an artist so she doesn’t really grasp the amount of time and effort it takes, so she expects results immediately. Which like. I get that too? I dunno. What do you all think? Are you the kind of patient person who’s totally chill with an artist taking months to finish your commission? Or do you want it to be done within a reasonable amount of time, like 2-3 weeks?

[meximango]

Day 9 - Lend an Ear - Luvon + Strum - G

Summary: Luvon gets worried when his mentor is gone for too long.

A near season had passed since Luvon’s mentor last visited, and he was beginning to get antsy about it. 

Normally the bard tried to stop by at least once a moon, so he must have gone really far away this time. It meant he’d have a lot of great songs to sing when he finally did arrive, but Luvon would take more frequent or longer stays over extra fascinating tales any day. Especially as Strum got older, there was no telling how long the visits would continue, when the final visit would be… It may have happened already! Luvon had always been a worrier, something his mother chastised him for repeatedly, but he couldn’t help it! Their village, nestled in this cave, was safe, but the star beyond these passageways was not. It was something drilled into his head ever since he could remember. The desert was unforgiving, and beyond its reaches lay all sorts of paths of destruction. If they were lucky and didn’t bear witness to any of the horrors out there, if they kept praying to the star, then maybe they could be spared.  But that left his mentor completely vulnerable out there! Could nobody see what a problem this was? What if Strum broke a leg while on a trip, and he couldn’t escape a monster chasing him? What if he got crushed by a frenzied crowd because they liked his music too much–or worse, hated it! What if he fell overboard while sailing or his airship blew up, or an incurable disease got him, or he stumbled into a war zone, or a giant plant swallowed him up– What if he wasn’t coming back? 

What if he was already dead? 

How would Luvon even find out? 

The others in his village tolerated Strum, as he used to be one of them, and so was one of the few trusted to trade with them, but nobody would go out looking for him. Lack of caring, and not being allowed to leave, by the rules of their Seer. Only hunters and those willing to cut ties could come and go. Luvon was the only one fussing over his mentor, so he doubted he could convince one of those people to ask around at the nearest oasis town about an old hrothgar with a lute. Luvon decided if Strum hadn’t appeared again by heavensturn, he was going to sneak out and find him all on his own, the rules be damned. He excelled in his sightless navigation studies, so he knew how to sneak around noiselessly and dexterously. Certainly he’d be able to get past everyone while the town slept. He steeped in worry for a few more weeks and nearly unraveled the bottom hem of his dress with his ceaseless fidgeting whenever he thought about Strum’s absence for too long, but his plans need never be put into motion, as the news came to him that his dear mentor was finally in town again.

–

Strum had trained his eyes back to a state where he could see Luvon coming, but he barely had time to brace himself with his cane before Luvon barrelled into him at full speed. He’d just barely settled into his temporary room and let out an amused chuckle as his little protege clung tightly to his leg. “Hello, my sweet Lulu. I am happy to see you, but you’re shaking like a leaf!” He petted the child’s hair and the shaking only got worse as Luvon buried his face into his robes, and Strum realized the kid was sobbing. Ah, that explained the lack of words of welcome. Most likely overcome with emotion, he would be unable to speak or form words for a while. He just needed some time. That was ok, Strum still had to unpack, and he didn’t mind providing comfort. He could get started on the stories and music, though maybe he would avoid the ones with too much violence for now. Several bells passed, and eventually Luvon settled down into his lap. The stories turned into lute practice. He was glad that despite their time apart, the kid had kept up with his studies. Strum was so proud of him, and told him as such, which only seemed to embarrass him, oddly enough. “You seem preoccupied and not quite like your usual bubbly self today, my child. Would you like this old hrothgar to lend an ear to your troubles? I am always willing to listen.” Nearly half a bell passed without pause–though Strum did at some point force a glass of water into Luvon’s hands and bid him to drink and gain some breath back. Now that he was talking again and started up, it was difficult to get him to stop, but Strum was patient. Luvon’s family rarely actually listened to him, so he would do what he could to understand the child. 

It seemed Luvon suffered from a lot of anxiety and had been working himself up into bouts of panic these last few weeks–about his safety, from being away for so long, which sat heavily on his conscience. Strum knew he could not make any promises to stay safe or never leave the village again, as this place was stifling to him. He could no longer live here for extended periods of time, and the outside star forever called to him. 

As the star called to him, he believed it did to Luvon as well. It’s what inspired him to take Luvon on as a student in the first place. He saw something in him that reminded him of himself. While the other villagers completely spurned those who weren’t from here, the child yearned to learn about people outside this village. He was afraid to leave the caves, and was far too young yet to do so anyway, but Strum could tell from the way he lit up as he spoke of other places and cultures, that Luvon wanted to experience and discover these things for himself one day. 

And one day, Strum would need to have tough conversations with him–about the sacrifices that come with deciding to leave and pursue his passions and chase curiosity. He would offer to restore his sight, to the best of his abilities. The spells and alchemical procedures are not so easily undone, but if Luvon chooses it, he won’t hesitate to help heal what he can. To leave means to live with the disappointment and possible disgust or ire from the other villagers. It is taboo to leave, and would change Luvon’s relationships forever. He would also need to learn to fight, even as he’d hoped Luvon would never need to use the skills, gentle as his soul is. If he didn’t want to become a bard, then he could teach him the moves of a pugilist instead, and how to go onward toward the fighting style of a monk. Or perhaps he would like to learn how to heal? So many possibilities, but he would let Luvon choose. There were so many choices already taken from him, after all. 

He knew that time marched on and took its toll on his body. He was not as ancient and fragile as Luvon must have thought, young as he is to compare to, but that did not mean his time was unlimited. Due to old injuries, he used a cane. His fur was beginning to gray and wasn’t as sleek and shiny as it used to be. He wore spectacles to read. He would continue to travel as long as possible, though,and he could not promise to stay safe, as something could happen to him at any time. There would be no way to guarantee he will be back as often as he’d like, but he did pinky promise to do his best to be cautious.  In Strum’s opinion, continuing to live in this village would only make Luvon’s anxiety and worries worse, but the boy was still growing and he couldn’t take him from his family. The boy’s parents were already not that happy about how much time their son spent with him, believing that he was putting silly ideas and scary concepts into the child’s head. There is nothing wrong with teaching him what this star has to offer, hmmph! He would come back more often. He would. He would take the mentorship more seriously, especially as it broke his heart to see how much his extended leave affected Luvon. He would watch Luvon grow into his own person, encouraging him into authenticity. To not let this village stomp him down and mold him into some featureless, obedient, lifeless husk. He’d help him escape, if that’s what he wished. Just as he escaped so many years ago.

In the meantime, he had some more stories to tell. As he played his lute and Luvon grabbed his own to join in the harmony, his face finally smoothed and free of tension and worry, Strum sang tales of distant lands and couldn’t help but be filled with hope.

[llunaerian]

nye 2k23 in manchester 🦑🐋

[nekrophoria]

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[walterdecourceys]

this year is the year i finish my frankenstein adaptation essay i believe this. and while i'd still like to look at how effectively each one adapts the story i think i want to put a greater emphasis on how the ways the movies change throughout the years reflects the changes in the (mostly american) culture more broadly

[rapidhighway]

like, I feel like I'm being a bit inconsiderate??? But also I just do not have the patience... It's been going on for so freaking long and I just cannot stand it and I would like to have my own feelings about it considered ughhh come onnnn

[20percentbug]

hey guess who fell down the vocaloid pipeline

song referenced: Venom by Kairikibear

[white-weasel]

Hmmm maybe the stress dreams are telling me I should deal with the thing I keep putting off instead of kicking it down the road more

[the-bugsnax-journalists]

..uh.. been a bit dead- Uhhhh right update:

Redesign spree is beginning, here's the first on the chopping block: The main Journalist themselves

And because it's 1AM as of posting this, and because I thought why not, a dark lil pic of the redesign/OG design having a bit of a... "Confrontation" under the cut.

TW for Blood (even if it's not that good, first time n' all that)

[kimtaegis]

hate to say it but july kinda sucked