#therapy problems man

[lost-in-wond3rland]

I had two 12oz redbulls and a 16oz monster today and I'm alive out of pure spite

TW for: food relationship, depression, self medication

So maybe I'm not just alive out of pure spite but it sounded more fun that way lol I'm mainly alive from riding the Eras Tour high (thank you Seattle and Taylor Alison Swift) (no, I don't live in Seattle but I did fly there).

So I haven't slept since Thursday.

Not entirely true, I mostly slept last night and the night before so really I hadn't sleep Thursday-Sunday but Sunday night was chill.

I did overly pump myself with caffeine today and it did exactly z e r o help at work which sucked.

I have therapy on Friday and I'm 95% sure I'm going to cancel. I don't think I like my therapist.

It's been a couple of sessions and:

Talking about myself is uncomfortable as fuck (yes, I realized the irony of this as I am semi journaling on a public platform but bffr, no one is reading this and if they ARE I have know way of knowing)

I'm not against natural remedies persay but e v e r y t h i n g she suggests is natural remedies? Tea for insomnia, roots to eat to help focus for the possible ADHD (on top of the fact that I've asked more than once to see a psych to at least get a diagnosis to know for sure if I have it, especially since I apparently check most of the boxes? But then she asked why I would want them? Um... cuz I wanna know? And I'm going into grad school and don't have time to be fighting my brain all the time?), exercise to raise serotonin to help depression (which yes I understand the science there but TW ALERT I have some... food and body issues we shall say that turn into spirals v quickly of I will go to the gym for two hours and only eat a singular granola bar for the whole day. So like. Yeahhhh when she said I might be depressed because "maybe you need to exercise more" that was fun lol Especially when I know I obviously don't look like I have said issues in the stereotypical sense)

So like. You could see why after a few sessions I'm not too keen on going back. I've been on a bit of an up swing anyway so like *shrug*

The reason I started going to therapy again was because things were... not ideal. Not that I was actively gonna do something. But also like. If I fell into an eternal slumber, I wouldn't necessarily have been mad about it typa deal. Kinda hoping for the whole eternal sleep thing but not doing anything to cause it, ya feel? But now things are fine and I can't help but feel like I was being dramatic because like. I'm fine. Everything is fine. And I really have nothing to complain about. So like. Dramatic, ya know?

It feels silly to me a lot of the time. People have real issues and real trauma, and I haveeee. A trip to London and Paris coming in the fall... so like. What the fuck do I need to be in therapy for? It just. Feels kinda fake. Like I'm being dramatic.

I feel like sometimes I build shit up in my head too much and then I stop and I'm like. Why. There are so many other things happening, so many other people with real life issues, and then here I am. I don't like it.

I was smoking a LOT of weed for a LONG time to just kinda coast ya know? To either feel something if I felt nothing or to feel something else other than what I was feeling. Which is great, and worked, but with my job if I get caught I will no longer have said job. Also the fact that like, weed sleep is a THING and where as not being hungover is great, I'll loose half the day knocked tf out (which considering the sleep situation might not be the worst thing so maybe I should go to the local dispensary lmao but then it makes me eat a bunch and then I feel awful the next day and cycles and cycles and cycles). So unfortunately/fortunately that is a no go cuz work and I gotta be awake enough to do hw man.

So yeah. I'm kind of in the "fuck therapy, I'm fine" mind set lately. Yeah, I get some intense lows but they haven't been consistent like they were plus I don't even know what fucking causes them. Somedays I just wake up and it's like, "oh cool, I'm floating in an abyss today". Some days I know if I spend too much time alone, my thoughts will suffocate me. Some days I wake up normal, and halfway through they day a switch flips out of nowhere and I'm just exhausted and don't want to exist. Sometimes I'm so numb or out of it I know I just shouldn't be driving because I feel nothing or feel out of my body.

But lately there's been none of that, and I've been good. So.

Yikes, this shit is not linear at all lol It's going in any and all directions. And there really is no point to it either. Just. Wanted to talk to myself about some things in my brain. But either way.

Therapy on Friday. Be there or be square! 98% sure I'm gonna be square because I just simplyyyyy do not want to go, nor do I see the point of it at the moment.

I also probably really need sleep. Or at least more sleep since I did in fact sleep pretty decently last night.

Oh! I'm also kind of in love with Taylor Zakhar Perez. He's so pretty it's irritating lmao He's also gonna play Alex in the RW&RB movie and I can't wait. I'm watching it with Lex on Saturday (Aug 12) since she has D&D on Aug 11 (cries in I wanted to watch it that night but I GUESS I'll fucking wait lol). But yeah. Hashtag daddy

-Seven

07.26.2023

[nerdpoe]

When Danny decides to reincarnate, centuries after his adventures, he chooses a random Dimension of Heroes and Villains.

He's expecting adventure! Heroics! A life worth bragging about in the Afterlife!

He wakes up in a tube, staring down at surprised teen heroes as they release him and another person.

Later, he finds out that he's a clone of Batman and Superman, and the other clone is of Superman and Lex Luthor.

He came into this world expecting adventures, not a weird custody battle about him and his brother (because that's what Conner is) between two A-List superheroes.

[dumpy4rd]

this thought from maomao breaks my heart. to me it implies either she thinks someone like jinshi is so incapable of caring about someone like her to the point of being unable to process the moment or she can't recognize when someone is worried about her. either way it makes me sad

[thunderc1an]

2 comic wips

[spider-gem]

This is one of the most insane takes ever

Gen z is… *checks notes* too empathetic…? Are the older generations okay? Are you alright?? Who hurt you?

[context, if you were curious: this was a comment on a Webtoon called Nevermore, which I would definitely recommend]

[leahthedreamer]

If it’s one thing Season 2 reinforces is that Carmy NEEDS Sydney but Sydney doesn’t necessarily need Carmy to the same capacity.

Without Sydney and her leadership and intuition that restaurant would have never opened on time. Carmy is a work in progress, desperately needs therapy and probably a vacation and clearly couldn’t handle any semblance of a relationship while juggling stress and his past trauma.

Which is why if I had an ending of the show pictured, it would be them parting ways with Sydney earning his full respect as a chef and a Carmy hopefully free enough to achieve things himself and maintain some happiness in his life.

[moghedien]

im gonna say I'm fully in support of Lan not being the overwhelming source of Rand's mental illness in the show actually

[incrediblyaccuratethoughts]

I’m Gonna Tell ‘Em (Don’t you Dare)

Ao3

Tim just wanted coffee. That’s really all he desired in life. Coffee. His position as Red Robin. And Wayne Industries to get its shit together for one goddamn day. In that order.

“Are you shitting me? I was a fucking crime lord you little terror, I don’t give a fuck-”

He’d done an all-nighter in the Batcave. Again. Trying to crack a cold case he was sure had something to do with Riddler's vague warning a few nights ago. And he was so close, but his eyes had started to close for just a little too long.

So tell him why he walked into an argument that seemed to be based around the topic of murder, at 7 in the morning. Between Jason and Damian. Who both tried to kill him at least once. Respectively.

“And I am the Demon Prodigy of the League of Assassins. I could kill a man before I could speak.”

Tim stands in the doorway, contemplating if his need for coffee is higher than his potential rate of getting maimed in the dining room.

“Yeah, but you were fucking sheltered inside the bases like goddamn Rapunzel in her-”

“I was not sheltered. You of all people should know of Mother’s harshness for disobedience-“

“Oh and I’m sure you were so disobedient Mr. Goody Two Shoes-“

Ultimately, the urge for coffee wins. Tim crosses the kitchen as unnoticeably as he can, skirting the edges and keeping his footsteps as light as he can manage on 10 hours of sleep in the last week.

He’s busy, okay?

“I’ll admit I wasn’t raised to go against the orders of a higher-up but that did not mean-”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.”

“Did my propensity for sneaking animals into the house escaped your notice? I thought you were better trained-“

“So what? You save every bird with a broken wing you come across, but you’d willingly slit the throat of a human?”

“Yes, Todd. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The coffee pot is half full. Tim counts this as the one redeeming factor of this morning. The threat of getting stabbed is nothing in the face of sweet, sweet caffeine.

“What’s your fucking number then?”

“I can’t possibly know the exact-“

“Oh no, you don’t get to pull that shit on me-“

Tim considers pouring himself a cup, but he’s gonna drink the whole thing anyway and he’s exhausted enough to zone out during Alfred’s inevitable lecture, so he takes the whole pot and tips it back.

“I was sent out for missions when I was barely more than a toddler. You can’t expect me to remember every-“

“Ra’s had files on every fucking mission I did while brain dead and high on Lazarus rage, there’s no fucking way he didn’t have an exact-“

Tim chugs his precious coffee. The temperature is surprisingly cool enough that he doesn't immediately burn his tongue. Not that a few scorched taste buds would stop Tim from inhaling the only thing between him and unconscious. But it’s the thought that counts.

“What’s yours then, Todd?”

“Nope. Not until you tell me yours first. I’m not about to have you raise the number because I told you mine.”

“That’s preposterous. I would do no such thing.”

Tim calculates his chances of making it back out of the kitchen with a quarter pot of coffee in his hands and decides his caffeine fix is safer off with a few counters between him and his homicidal brothers.

And yah know. His physical well-being. But that’s pretty low on his ‘fucks to give list’ at the moment.

“I don’t trust a fucking word coming out of your mouth-“

“There’s an easy way to settle this if you’d just-“

“What? Shut up? Drop the argument? No fucking-“

“We can write it down separately and then show it to each other at the same time."

“…huh.”

Tim looks up in genuine fear when both of his siblings go quiet. That’s never a good sign. Not in this house.

There’s a window to his right that he could probably smash through if it came to it.

Neither of them are looking at him though, just regarding each other with much less animosity than a few seconds ago. Tim decides he’s probably fine and goes back to his coffee.

“I will go retrieve a piece of paper and two pens.”

Damian leaves the room and Tim freezes like if he stays still enough it’ll keep Jason from noticing him. Unfortunately, now that his older brother’s attention is directed to his surroundings and not just screaming at a 12-year-old, he makes direct eye contact with Tim.

“Oh hey, Timmers. How long have you been here?”

Tim stares at him blankly. He- doesn’t know what answer Jason wants from him and he’s not willing to face his older brother’s wrath if he’d been having what he thought was a private conversation.

“Sorry about the noise. I hope we didn’t wake you up.” Jason says after it’s clear that he isn't getting answers out of Tim.

As if the manor isn’t literally soundproofed. For this exact reason.

Tim’s 17 years of social etiquette training won’t let him just not answer the open-ended comment, but god does he wish that it did.

“No, I was already up.”

Jason nods as if he was expecting that answer. Which is fair. Tim’s sure he looks just as tired as he feels. His eye bags could hold all of his emotional trauma. They’re Guchi.

“And does Alfred know you’re drinking straight from the pot?” Jason motions to the carafe Tim’s clutching like a lifeline. Because it is.

Tim opens his mouth to lie through his teeth, but is saved by Damian’s re-entry. Wow, he’s never been so glad to see his stab-happy younger brother.

True to his word, the kid’s carrying a few pieces of paper and pens. Tim could leave now. He could casually walk right past them, out of the kitchen, and back to the cave to keep working on his case, but dammit, he’s invested now.

He’s still not sure what this argument is about exactly, but he’s willing to wait a few more minutes to satiate his curiosity now that he’s tentatively sure that the argument isn’t going to evolve into physical violence.

“I’ve acquired the tools to finish this once and for all, Todd.” Damian announces, sliding half of his spoils to Jason.

“Great. We’ll write our body count down and on 3 we’ll turn ‘em around. Got it?”

“Don’t tell me what to do” Damian grumbles, but writes dutifully anyway. The kid would be funny if he didn’t back his threats up with swords.

Tim is. Still lost, but he’s always secretly wondered how many people his brothers have killed. In a morbid way. Mostly because he wants to know if the murder attempts on him were a particularly special event or just a pattern. For his mental health's sake.

“Got it?” Jason asks, holding his paper close to his chest so no one can peek. Tim doesn’t know who would, considering he’s the only one in the kitchen that’s not a part of this squabble, but Damian copies the movement and Tim finds himself inching closer, taking the last swig of his coffee.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

They flip the papers around and for a moment the kitchen is quiet.

“FUCK YEAH!” Jason pumps his fist in the air with a whoop. “Ha! Take that, Demon Brat! I’m the Robin with the highest kill count!”

Tim spits out his coffee and coughs violently. It’s partially because he got some in his lungs, but also to cover the incredulous laughter bursting uncontrollably out of him. It takes him a good few seconds to get his breathing under control, but when he looks up, his brothers are staring at him.

For a moment he’s tempted. So fucking tempted. Because he hasn’t told anyone anything more than bits and pieces about his time with the League. Hell, the only reason his family even knows about his little stint playing lap dog for Ra’s, is because he choked out a vague explanation about his missing spleen when he went into sepsis.

They don’t know about the missions he was sent on. The people he sold out. And most importantly, the multiple bases he blew up because he was crazier than the Joker after Bart and Kon’s death and then the near miss with Bruce.

The bases he absolutely didn’t evacuate. With hundreds of people inside. A few actually avalanched down mountainsides, and he’d eat his Batarang if any of them survived.

The only word he’d confidently use to describe his mental state then, is feral.

He didn’t have to blow them up. He really didn’t. A good few of the bases he’d never actually seen before he snuck in to level the place, but he’d been having a shitty year so naturally, he was going to make sure Ra’s got to have one too.

Not to mention that Tim was as depressed as he’d ever been and wasn’t particularly giving a lot of fucks about if he died during his warpath. He’d already lost a spleen, what were a few more organs?

So this argument? This competition? He finds it objectively fucking hilarious.

Damian and Jason are still staring at him in bewilderment, and for a moment -just a wild moment- he thinks about telling them.

Explaining how he was just. So done. And could only think of one way out, so he systematically hacked into every base he could get his hands on. Stole as many files as he could during his time constraint. And then blew all of them sky-high.

Thought about telling them how on one particularly bad night, gone through every log of the people in those bases. How he hadn’t been ‘sick’ as he claimed the week after he managed to crawl out of his safe house.

He was just too horrified to look anyone in the eye.

It would be funny to watch his family’s expressions go through the five stages of grief and add a few more just for funsies, if they even believed him at all. But no. Tim had his secrets and he was going to take them to the grave.

He grinned at his brothers, patted Jason on the shoulder with a quiet congratulations, and strolled out of the kitchen.

Tim had cases to solve and letting his family assume he wasn’t capable of murder was better for all of them in the long run.

No matter how wrong they were.

👻

In my defense. Writing prompts make the brain noodle go brr. You can blame @coffinbirds and @batcavescolony for these posts.

[boywifesammy]

SAMPUSSY 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[starduststudyblr]

just finished sex education s4 and the thing that stressed me out the most was why did the school let UNTRAINED TEENAGERS give therapy to their friends??? just bc they said they were “therapists”??? like did nobody at the school stop to think hmm maybe this isn’t the best idea

[dykevanny]

every time people misinterpret the ar emails I go even more insane

[a-totally-reasonable-username]

Fearing a doctors appointment but then you find out the doctor is actually the most amazing medical professional you have ever met in your life and he? Actually? Genuinely? Cares???

Is this what it feels like to be high?

[adharastarlight]

when you see a cute trans post but then half the replies are transphobic and that brief moment where it was just you and your mutuals in your lil corner of decent humanity is gone :(

[burning-landfill]

Something something Charlie thinking he’s incapable of love because of his actions and turns into gegg because all the eggs are pure and deserving of love and takes it as a personal fault in himself when people don’t like gegg reinforcing his idea of himself as a bad person….. or something

[chipistrate]

Thinking about the therapy tapes and specifically how fucked over Vanessa was with her parents-

Forced to lie about her mom in court which ended in her death and got stuck with her shit ass dad, and when she escaped her dad she ended up stuck with a virus mimicking a manipulative serial killer with a similar name and personality as her dad- like she just can NOT get a break,,,,

Makes me wonder if that had an effect on how she cares for Gregory after PQ ending- like she wants to be a good guardian/sibling to him and make sure nothing that happened to xem ever happens to him. He's already going through enough and xey want to help and be the support for him that she never got, but she's just never sure what to say or do.

[bubblegumpatty]

If Kokobot has noble intentions, for it barge into dms unprompted and asking you to expose your mental health problems, during the height of AI paranoia and privacy concerns is just not wise.

Also asking random tumblr users for advice is a crapshoot at the best of times.