#therapy session

[fuckingwhateverdude]

THERAPY SESSION #1

[zendasian]

Me having an intriguing debate, conversation, therapy session, gossip, and pep talk with myself at 3am

[ Day 2 : No Instagram ]

[honeycombhank]

Apple pie

[therapysession01]

Just because we can't be together, doesn't mean I won't love you.

[mydarkqueen-24]

Kratos: If you think I will express how I feel your wrong-

Tyr: Ghost of Sparta.

Kratos: *Laying down on a sofa* is all happen when My home land got attack..

[monsterohnenamen]

She tried to fix me …

[dailybehbeh]

Behbeh

[youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars]

Alright yall. I need help. Come sit. Be my therapist for a second. Have some hot cocoa even. We're gonna be here a while. <3

I am afab. Very average, very feminine presenting. Joining the marauders fandom and getting more into lgbtq+ side of media and things has made me question my gender identity a bit, and I don't know what to do. I say all the time "I wish I was a boy but only a pretty boy" in the sense that GOD do i wanna be a pretty boy like all the cosplayers and fancasts and fanart and fuckin book descriptions I see of these characters. I'll jokingly tell my friends if I knew and was promised that I could look like THAT ONE tiktoker if i transitioned, I would do it. But I don't know if that's fully 100% true.

I'm contemplating getting a binder. I think the only reason I've put it off for as long as I have is I don't know my own measurements and I don't own a tape measure. It would be super easy to get one, and it makes me wonder why i'm putting it off so bad. I have pretty big boobs for my body size, at least, that's what my friends say. Genetics-wise, all my sisters have bigger boobs and my mother's even gotten a reduction because of it. I've been contemplating that too.

I don't know if I want them gone, but I get such a gross disgusting feeling in my chest if i'm out and about and they're more visible with my clothing. If I were to wear a tight tank top under a hoodie instead of a bra and I go out in public it's like the nerve endings in my chest start doing something and it's so uncomfortable I feel like everyone is staring at them and I feel like I'm doing something wrong just for existing. just for being a woman with female body parts. Is that body dysmorphia? I'm not sure really, i think it started when I would attend church. I felt like every man in the room was staring at me and could notice them, even if i was sitting in the furthest back row and they were all looking forwards. I don't know. Maybe that's just religious trauma for another day.

I want clothes to fit me the way they fit men. I want to love a boy the way a boy loves a boy. I want the hands and the flat chest and the shoulders and the collar bones and the adam's apple and the stomach and the short swoops hair and the jawline. A Pretty boy. You know.

I think everyone desires to be attractive, and when there's so many variables with transitioning, you essentially roll the dice and hope you get a good deal. And I am insecure, and as shallow as it sounds, I would be afraid to be uglier than I am. Lemme tell ya, I haven't seen very attractive ginger men that's for sure. (you may attempt to change my mind if you so desire but if ANY of yall say ed sheeran ill cry cause no)

But some days, I feel alright with my face, with femininity. And I feel like I made up the desire to be a boy. I look in the mirror and think "you're pretty. you look fine, you even look pretty good. Why did you ever want to change that?" Then I'll scroll through tiktok or read a fanfic or see fuckin starchaser fanart that makes me rethink it all over and over again like an endless cycle. And I don't know what to do.

I don't look androgynous. I wish i looked androgynous. Maybe that'd be easier to figure it out. I know some of you are probably gonna say "just experiment with some things. try some different clothes or makeup" and I would if that was something I could easily do.

I never learned how to do makeup. No one ever taught me and I was scared to ask my mom for mascara even though I was in high school. My sisters were great at makeup, and hair, and fashion. All the things people tend to expect girls to be good at. They never taught me. They had moved out by the time I was old enough to start shaving my legs for the first time. Any time I do try something it doesn't match my face, or my hair color, or my skin tone and it doesn't look right and I just get lost.

I don't know how to do my hair, and I don't have anything to do my hair with except for a hairbrush and some ponytails, but my last haircut kinda fucked up and i have these side bangs that are chunky and i don't know how to fix them.

I think I have an alright sense of fashion, but in the way that I see things on my pinterest board and think "that outfit. I want that outfit" but individual pieces?? I wouldn't even know where to start. I like going thrift shopping but lately everything around me has been terribly expensive so I haven't even bothered. Plus it's not really fun going alone. And when I do get to a thrift store it's all...not good stuff?? If that makes sense. I never understand how people are so good at thrift shopping cause I can rarely find anything that matches and if it does match it's either too big or too small.

I just. I don't girl the way i'm supposed to. And I don't boy the way I want to. I don't even gay the way I want to gay. (in the sense that I really do look like a straight white girl. I wish I didnt. damn do i want to be a regulus black variant. can't even do that with my hair)

And even with pronouns. I don't like they/them for me. I look and act like a she/her so that one makes sense, and I've never really clicked with he/him. Maybe cause I don't feel like I look the part so it makes no sense to use it. All of my friends are long distance, and we only ever talk TO eachother so it's not like I'd ever hear it in practice to test it out. I don't know.

Maybe it's just my insecurities throwing all this around. Maybe i've been bullied or mocked or judged one too many times that now I don't even want to be perceived at all. I hate being perceived. Being noticed by random people quite possibly judging every move I make is horrifying. Add that to not enjoying being alone, well. Whoops.

So I don't know. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't make sense of any of it and I'm terrified of fucking something up. I know I shouldn't be. I know it's okay to experiment and see what fits me and what doesn't. Hair grows back, clothing styles change, even the sizes change. Bruises and scars heal, it's ok to fall down. I just..I feel like I can't let myself do any of it. I don't know why. Maybe a punishment of some kind. Not allowing myself to figure out who I am.

Maybe I'm so used to being what I'm not that it's become an unconscious thing I can't let go of. Just trapped in a bubble I didn't even realize I had been forced into until it was too late maybe. I don't know. I just don't know. I don't know where to start, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to do any of it and I just wanted to to be stopped. I want to be at the ends of this stupid long road and for it to be fixed.

I want it to go away.

(This kind of turned into a rant but if anyone has any advice I'd greatly appreciate it <3 happy new year btw!! heard some hella tea from my neighbors while writing this and that was very entertaining)

[theuniversedothprotest]

I told my therapist I did a little stress shopping and he whipped out his phone and showed me this 😬

[trophyhound]

i rlly dislike those ___ culture is blogs, but i also rlly wanna acknowledge how fucking easy it is for me to crash when doing something that im new at with someone who's been doing the same thing for significantly longer

[a-j-s-the-only]

therapy is nice

I can talk without interruptions

I can speak words I can’t put together

She doesn’t judge how I handle the things, that I didn’t know how to handle

[butteredbreadfacedown]

Grover and Ares having a therapy session and grover getting into Ares’ head with the forgettable mellow battles is something that was so out of the blue to me but also so incredibly necessary

[chopchopslide-juggalo]

Hi, this is just something that's been sitting in my notes for a while now. I wrote it on a night where I didn't quite know what to do with myself. Most of it is fictional or exaggerated, but it captured my feelings quite well that night. I can't really describe it, so if you have a minute. I'd appreciate it if you'd just give it a go.

Warnings: mention of suicide and death, drug abuse and depression.

English is not my first language. So If you find a grammatical error just tell me nicely and I'll see what i can do.

Everybody has flaws...

and I accept them so easily.

However when i say that, I never talk about my own.

I hate the things that make me less perfect.

Less important.

Less loveable.

Less worthy to live.

.

I hate how I'm dependent on sticks of tobacco that kill my lungs when I want to calm down.

What is my right to destroy myself when others lie in the hospital, their lungs close failure, waiting for someone to die who was generous enough to donate theirs.

I could've been that someone who was so kind.... If I had died at 13.

Now my lungs would probably kill them faster than their own.

I hate that I would rather deal with an unbearable headache on the next day, than endure my non intoxicated thoughts for even a night.

I could save someone's life, giving up only a small part of my liver.

If i hadn't made the decision to drown it in poison one too many times, hoping it would make my emotions go numb.

I hate that every time I take a pill for my pain, I get tempted to take more than I should.

Someone out there is fighting for their life and I'm here only one moment away from ending my own.

I hate how I can't keep my promises, because most days I'm not even able to gather enough energy to get out of bed.

Somebody worthy and lovable has waited for me time and time again, just for me to cancel two hours after the scheduled time of meet. They got themselves ready and waited, while I laid on my bathroom floor unable to move more than a few fingers at a time.

.

I hate how I can't seem to get my shit together.

I hate how I just can't be the responsible 23 year old I'm supposed to be.

I hate how I....

hate myself...

Everything I accept, understand and forgive in others

In me

I hate.

.

Why can't I get better if I hate all of my flaws? Why can't I just stop my self-destructing and kick myself out the door to do something? How many more breaking points do I need to live through to finally stop myself?

I think about these questions a lot.... Never got a reasonable answer though.

I got better. I didn't drink all the time anymore, I didn't smoke more than 10 cigarettes a day and i stayed away from other drugs. But i still stayed in bed. And i can't understand why i couldn't make the final step. Stop with it all and get it together.

I've gone back and forth a few steps over the last few months. From total blackout for a week to only a glass wine or two.

But everytime i get to the final step

It doesn't feel like one step

It feels like a trillion

And maybe that wasn't even that wrong

Maybe if I made another trillion tiny steps the last one wouldn't be so intimidating anymore.

I push myself to do a big final step though.

I push

I push and I push and I push

I stress.

.

Stress is my worst enemy.

I'd say if it was an other who stressed me. An assignment or a driver behind me honking for me to go faster.

However I don't get assignments anymore. Not when I don't even have a job.

And I don't drive. Not when I am scared I'd accidentally kill someone, because my mind doesn't seem to work like it should.

The only one that stresses me... Is myself

I am my worst enemy.

.

[honeycombhank]

Emmitt Wild, wouldn’t stop talking about how he peed on my therapist and tried to eat her nice sweater.