#which has kind of atrophied whatever social skills i had

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Sarah D. (The author writes pseudonymously to protect her family.)

Published: Jun 6, 2023

My Daughter’s Therapist: You Were Wrong

It has been some months since you and my daughter had the last of four sessions. In the third session, I was invited to sit in on a discussion of the effects of T, testosterone, on a human female body. You smiled calmly as you led us through a series of PowerPoint slides, explaining that my daughter’s reproductive organs would atrophy, that she would grow a beard, that her voice would deepen, and that “the phallus” would become enlarged. I sat listening, summoning all of my own skills as a clinical psychologist to not let a tirade loose at you in front of my brittle and fragile seventeen-year-old.

Between your third and fourth (and final) session with my daughter, you and I had a one-on-one conversation wherein I believe you recognized that this mother and this family were not going to easily or willingly surrender this child to whatever gender transition services you were prepared to refer her for after just three forty-five-minute meetings.

I asked what it was specifically about my daughter that convinced you that medical transition would be the right course of action to relieve her distress. You said, “He has gender dysphoria.” I said, “She has an eating disorder, body dysmorphia, and ADHD, all of which seem to have some overlapping features with gender dysphoria. Why wouldn’t you assess for and treat those before triggering any kind of medical intervention?”

I asked you what happens if my daughter, upon taking T and going through the changes you described, is not relieved of her dysphoria. What if her feelings and symptoms of self-loathing, dissociation, anxiety, depression, and self-harm become exacerbated? You visibly cringed at my questions and responded that most people who transition are satisfied with their results and don’t regret their decision. I asked where I might find peer-reviewed longitudinal studies that suggest that affirming and facilitating social and medical gender transition produce happy, well-adjusted teens and young adults. You said you would gladly send me links to those studies. The links never came.

I was clear, perhaps brutally so, that affirmation of male gender identity would not be the focus of your subsequent sessions and that you would instead help her explore her discomfort with her now almost fully developed, curvy female body. You would talk with her about her anxiety, her depression, her giftedness, her sense of alienation from her peers at a highly competitive suburban high school, and the impact of the pandemic at such a pivotal point in her life. In other words, you would work to slow the transition train way down.

“In a way, though, I’m glad for my ignorance, because I believe my forceful early pushback saved my child’s life. I would not take any of it back” — Sarah D.

Thinking back to that conversation, I feel a delayed sense of dread, as that was before I knew that major medical and mental health associations, the law, and key players in our state and federal government [in the United States] had also adopted a gender identity–affirming stance, albeit for their own personal and political purposes. At the time, I was unaware that, in some instances, parents had been reported to child protective services just for refusing to address a child by his or her chosen name and preferred pronouns. In a way, though, I’m glad for my ignorance, because I believe my forceful early pushback saved my child’s life. I would not take any of it back.

With an abundance of unconditional love, real psychotherapy, solid psychiatric care, and some long-overdue changes in her personal and social life, my daughter is coming into her own as a quirky, witty, gender-nonconforming young adult. She is grieving as she sheds her preoccupation with chemically and surgically transforming her body into something that would never result in her being male. She will not have to live out her life in a Frankenbody. No dry and shriveling vagina. No beard or male-pattern baldness. No irreversibly thickened vocal cords. And no enlarged and exposed clitoris. You called it a phallus, but she would never pee or ejaculate from her clitoris. It is anatomically impossible.

‘So close to being stolen’

A critically important thing that we learned along the way is that my daughter, like many other young people who declare a transgender identity in adolescence, is on the autism spectrum. She was diagnosed by an experienced child and adolescent psychiatrist and is now coming to understand how certain aspects of her autism resulted in collapsing and narrowing her focus into gender identity as a way of explaining and coping with what made life so difficult for her during her middle and high school years. She is learning to reconcile being socially awkward and having idiosyncratic interests and will be better for it, as she inhabits her full adult self at some time in her late twenties. She is a brilliant and beautiful human being whose entire future came so close to being stolen from her by the gender-transition industry. It is alarming that a generation of gifted children who may be on the autism spectrum is being sterilized in what amounts to a eugenics experiment with the participation of big-name medical and professional institutions and to the benefit of a novel category of mental health practitioners: gender therapists like you.

Had my daughter continued on the path she was on when you were her therapist, she would be well into a regimen of weekly testosterone injections and eventual surgeries that would not have resolved her gender dysphoria. That diagnostic category was included in the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) as a way of validating the experiences of a very small percentage of the population who suffer with lifelong feelings of discomfort and disconnection with their biological sex, all while creating billable codes for gender clinics and mental health professionals. (See psychiatrist Jack Drescher’s 2014 article “Controversies in Gender Diagnoses”, in which he remarks that “it is difficult to find reconciling language that removes the stigma of having a mental disorder diagnosis while maintaining access to medical care.”)

I know this because one of the experts on the DSM-5 workforce on gender dysphoria is a long-time friend who is, himself, appalled at what has come from this diagnostic category that he, no doubt with the most compassionate of intentions, helped forge. It is disappointing that he is hesitant to come out on the side of best and safe practice and to publicly state that gender exploratory therapy is NOT conversion therapy—that, in fact, putting so many young LGB people on a fast-moving conveyor belt to medical transition is the latest iteration of gay conversion practices.

Our daughter was not “assigned female at birth.” She was born with the full complement of normal female sex organs and all the eggs that her ovaries will release over the course of her fertile years, regardless of whether or not she ever chooses to become a mother. We expected as much because prenatal DNA testing let us know unequivocally at ten weeks of gestation that we were having a baby with XX sex chromosomes in every cell of her body. And no, she isn’t “intersex.” Her phenotypic features reflect her Southwest Asian genetic heritage, and she is fine and healthy just as she is. Nothing about her body is or has ever been out of place. If the gender-transition industry is anything, it is profoundly racist and disturbingly sexist.

I believe that the medical fast-tracking of children and young adults who self-identify as trans is a contemporary twist on American individualism taken to its point of absurdity. We are now in a situation where corporate wolves are passing effortlessly as progressive sheep. The needs of institutions for staying relevant and projecting themselves into the future trump any fidelity to stated guiding principles. And a parent’s need to protect her child’s mind and body trumps any and all political affiliations. Our wallets and our votes will speak for us.

* * *

It is now September, and my daughter and I have been living in a city in the former Soviet Union since mid-August. She is connecting to her roots, her land, and her cultural heritage—to rich and lasting sources of identity that synthetic hormones and manufactured gender ideology were threatening to undermine and replace. She recognizes that going down the path of medical transition would have made her into a lifelong patient and held her back from so much joy and freedom that she now has access to. She is coming to terms with the inevitable losses that growing up brings and discovering facets of herself that she would never have had if we had taken your advice and initiated medicalization. Gender ideology would have had to become the central focus of her intellect and creativity for the rest of her life.

“Here, no one is compelled to participate in a mass delusion that requires thought control and speech policing” — Sarah D.

It helps that the local language, which my daughter is quickly absorbing and starting to speak, is devoid of gendered grammatical markers. I think she is relieved to not have to ask or answer questions about “preferred pronouns” and such. Here, no one is compelled to participate in a mass delusion that requires thought control and speech policing. They had more than enough of that during seven long decades under Soviet rule. Simply put, people have more pressing daily challenges and live highly interconnected social lives as a result. When you fall, passersby stop to help you up and dust you off. As do other young people, my daughter feels confident walking around the city on her own at all hours. She increasingly feels safe and at home in this city and in her body. And I grow more hopeful every day that removing her from a culture that would pathologize normal developmental struggles and push costly and irreversible medical treatments will enable and reinforce long-term remission of gender dysphoria and trans ideation from her life.

I took the unpopular risk of holding my child’s ambivalence and keeping it alive rather than surrendering her to a process that would make her the docile object of bogus “affirmation” and “celebration.” Affirming and facilitating social and medical transition, by far the less conflictual path for parents who have the financial means, would have gained me temporary status as the heroic mother. And while I became the target of so much hatred and rage for many exhausting months, she never lost sight of the fact that her father and I were the ones who truly had her back; that approval from social-media groomers, “glitter families,” and gender clinicians could never be a replacement for her own self-esteem and her family’s unwavering love.

Let me close by saying that things are changing in parts of Europe and in the United Kingdom. In the U.S., a growing movement of parents and ethical clinicians, most of whom are lifelong progressives and active supporters of LGBTQ people and causes, are organizing and becoming vocal with their outrage and rejection of gender ideology and the unsupported diagnostic claims and harmful treatment practices it has given rise to. When the lawsuits start coming, this will be exposed as one of the biggest medical scandals in history.

It is only a matter of time.

==

Trans the gay and autism away.

[cracklets]

Of Flesh and Grace and Something In Between

Title: Of Flesh and Grace and Something In Between Chapter: One Author: Mistina of the Cranky Ol’ Fangirls Beta: MY MOM!!! (Seriously, Mistina’s mother proof read this chapter.) Series: Person of Interest and Supernatural Pairing(s):  Shaw/Root (Team Shoot), Dean/Castiel (Destiel) Rating: 14a Spoilers:  “Person of Interest” through to 4x11 and "Supernatural” through to 8x23 Length:  2,181 words Summary: Shaw can't believe this is her new life. Afterlife? Unlife? Second life? Ugh. Whatever. She has more important things to figure out. Like how the Hell she became the nexus between a bloody civil war up in Heaven and the battle between two God-like A.I. machines down here on Earth?! Author's Note: After watching "Person of Interest” 4x11, I was in denial and I immediately put together a crossover fix it to pacify myself. Later the show revealed that I had nothing to be worried about. Well, not when it comes to Shaw. ^^;; This is that fix it. I hope you enjoy my canon denial. <3

Bang! The world went black. She felt heavy. Sinking down, down, down. The abyss reached for her. Pulling her down, down, down.

Claws lashed out from the darkness below, eager to have her in their razor blade clutches. Each graze they managed to land sent a jolt of pain, climaxing sharp and lightning quick, throughout her entire being. Her descent quickly became a violent free fall. The claws grasping for her rapidly grew in number and tore into her with increasing accuracy. Gash after bruise after break after scrape… The blows became so frequent that they soon blurred into a single perpetual torment. When the claws finally managed to latch onto her, they jerked her down hard into their bloody embrace. Temperature then made itself known. Within the confinement of the abyss was a heat that ignited her pain into a searing agony. There in the dark, shackled and convulsing, she knew the time had come to atone for the oceans of blood shed by her hands. Suddenly, a burst of light banished the claws and the heat and the pain. Sameen Shaw’s eyes snapped open. There was no desperate intake of breath. Her muscles didn’t jerk, or even so much as flinch, into action. There was no atrophy to indicate that she had been shot and then lying prone in a hospital bed or on a cold slab wearing a toe tag. She merely opened her eyes and found herself to be whole, taking a deep deliberate breath and gently flexing her hands in an attempt to verify her current state. Even disoriented, Shaw realized that those were an awful lot of red flags. She quickly took in her surroundings: attired in a flattering black pant suit, hair pulled back in its usual manner, seated in an office of some sort... She then surveyed the room, trying to gather enough intel to determine her current circumstances: stainless steel, neutral colours and glass… She’d had thought she was in a clinic or a lab if it weren’t for her clothes, the cubicles, the carpeted floors and the nearby water cooler. The office decor told her that her host was most likely cold, detached and efficient. She could relate to such traits which meant she knew all too well that having such a host was not a good thing. Speaking of hosts, she was facing a large desk occupied by a stranger. "Hello Sameen," said the man behind the desk, his voice deep and gravelly. She said nothing, shooting the man a suspicious look. Her eyes visually inspected the stranger while her hands took stock of available resources. Searching her pockets, her hands came out empty while her eyes yielded some information, but nothing helpful. The man seemed completely out of place here. The office was sleek but the man seemed… ragged. He had unkempt dark hair and a five o’clock shadow along his jaw with a wrinkled trench coat over a rumpled business suit. The look was topped off with a blue tie hanging crooked around his neck. His look said ‘unpolished average joe ’ but her instincts screamed that the look was just a ruse. “I apologize in advance for my terrible bedside manner. I’m not known for my social skills," said the man, stiff but cordial. “What are you known for?” she asked automatically. To seek and acquire information while giving up little to none in return was a reflex deeply conditioned into her psyche. A reflex which seemed to have paid off in this instance, for she spied a brief flash of sadness in the man’s squinted eyes before they were quickly schooled back into neutrality. “Depends on who you ask,” he replied mysteriously, “but you will know me as the one who raised you from perdition.” “So I did die,” she stated impassively. “Yes, you did.” The man deadpanned, just as impassively. Wearing a lazy smirk, Shaw leaned back in her chair, swaying slightly as it had wheels, and theatrically gave the room a once over. “Not exactly what I expected.” “If you were expecting fire and brimstone, that is where you were headed.” Shaw chuckled wryly at that. “So why am I here, wherever ‘here’ is?” She gestured lazily to indicate the office they were in. “This is Heaven and you’re here because I have a proposition for you.” “Heaven, huh?” she mumbled, eyeing the room dubiously. “What you see is your soul’s interpretation of this foreign and more complex plane of existence,” Castiel explained as though this was matter of fact, which it most certainly wasn’t for Shaw. “Through blinders I’ve put in place so that your soul can exist here without harm.” Shaw raised a brow at the afterthought, but let is pass for the moment. “And you are?” “My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.” Her eyes widened slightly, the only hint that her calm demeanor was disturbed. “Reeaaallly?” she drawled. “Yes.” “So what does an angel of the Lord want with a recently deceased sociopathic assassin?” Castiel suddenly broke eye contact, a small frown on his lips, which troubled Shaw as he had not shown any obvious signs of emotion up until this point. “I’m offering you a place amongst our ranks.” “Excuse me?” she sputtered incredulously. Whatever answer she was anticipating, it was definitely not that. “We’ve been fighting a war for the last few years,” he explained calmly, though there was an undertone of sadness. To Shaw it seemed as though he had anticipated her disbelief which indicated he wasn’t completely socially incompetent, or—at least—not as much as he thought. “The death toll is devastating. Our Father had created us as immortals and so we were never given the ability to procreate. Hence every fallen brother and sister is a permanent deduction to our population.” “So, what?” asked Shaw, unable to slot herself into this scenario. "You’re going to hang a halo from a wire tied around my head and glue some wings to my back?” The angel chuckled. “That’s something a friend of mine would say…” A small, fond smile tugged at his lips as he briefly reminisced. “...I wish to imbue your soul with a fraction of my grace. With practice and training, it could blend with your soul and make you something… in between.” “‘Something in between’? The lack of a proper name really inspires confidence,” huffed Shaw sarcastically. “I must admit, this has never been done before…” “Oh, now  I’m relieved.” the angel narrowed his eyes angrily at Shaw’s sarcasm but they didn’t deter her. “So I have to choose between being a lab rat in Heaven or burning in Hell?” “No. No. I would never—” said Castiel adamantly before taking a deep calming breath. “I don’t want to force your hand. I have selected you for many reasons but the most important one is that I firmly believe you do not truly deserve to go to Hell. No matter what you decide, you have a place here.” Shaw raised a suspicious brow. "But I only have your word to go on." "True, but I can't think of any way to prove my sincerity without being accused of using"—he did, honest to God, air quotes—"'angel mojo'. Can you?" Shaw gently bit her lip to stifle a chuckle creeping up her throat so she could focus on the matter at hand. “No. Not with angels having the mojo to manipulate my will while I'm none the wiser.” “We are capable of such methods, but I have no desire to use them. I’m an advocate for humanity’s free will.” As he finished this statement his jaw clenched imperceptibly and his eyes squinted. Whether in anger or sadness, she couldn’t tell, but either way there was a story there. “Yeah… Not sure how I feel about that.” She trusted humanity about as much as she trusted the ‘angel’ before her. She leaned back in her chair, running her tongue across her teeth behind sealed lips. “Alright,” she said eventually, “why the Hell not?” She smirked wickedly, amused by her own choice of words. “I don’t understand,” said Castiel, head tilting slightly in confusion. “The way I see it, if I’m still alive and this is some kind of elaborate ploy then everything you’ve suggested is impossible. So anything you do plan to do with me I can more than handle. In short, if I’m alive then there’s no issue here.” she shrugged nonchalantly as she finished her first point, her face turning deadly serious when she moved on to her second. “If I am, in fact, dead, then I am at your mercy. At the mercy of you and whoever and whatever else exists after death. Life after death is completely unknown to me, like it is to all humans. I’m lost in the dark with no tools or information. So if I’m to survive, you are currently my best source of information, my best chance.” “Your logic is impressive,” said Castiel thoughtfully, eyes squinted as if he were studying the soul before him and calculating his next move, “but I must urge you to give my offer more consideration. Whether or not you believe that the offer is genuine, what I’m offering will be quite… permanent. And for the deceased, permanent  is potentially a very, very long time.” “Your concern is touching…” teased Shaw. “I don’t understand. You’re a sociopa—” “I am, but I was being sarcastic.” Shaw rolled her eyes, amused. “Look, don’t you worry about my decisions. I don’t have enough intel to work with, so consenting is my best option. However… On the off chance that all this is legit and you stick to your word, I will only consent if you meet one condition.” “A reasonable request, if it’s something I can provide.” He leaned forward slightly, supporting himself with his forearms and interlacing his hands on the desk. “What is your condition?” Shaw clenched her jaw, thrown off by her own impulsive request. Finding out that she had died was straightforward. Learning that this guy in a trench coat was an angel was surprising but easy enough to accept. Being told that this office was Heaven, well, that wasn’t much of a stretch after this 'desk jockey' angel. But this… lingering attachment. That unsettled her. “I want to be able to help my friends when they need it.” Unspoken, though surprisingly understood by the socially awkward angel, was ‘I want to see them again’. “If I were to deny you, I would be a hypocrite.” Finding the new information intriguing, Shaw quirked a brow which had Castiel smiling in a cryptic manner. "I’m sure you’ll find out all about that soon enough." “I’m sure I will,” said Shaw with an amused smirk. “I accept your condition, Sameen Shaw.” Castiel stood suddenly, his face deadly serious. “Do you consent to my proposal?” Shaw raised her right hand and held her left one over the heart, parodying a sworn testimony. “I do.” The angel frowned slightly at her levity, but accepted her response as sincere. He reached down to open a desk drawer and retrieved a simple glass bottle that contained something that was anything but simple: a small spec of golden light surrounded by a faint but alluring aura that seamlessly flowed from colour to colour. “Wow.” breathed Shaw, thinking that, if her current situation wasn’t real, she owed someone a huge ‘thank you’ for whatever seriously awesome drugs she was on. “I have broken off a piece of my grace and placed it in this container,” explained Castiel, though unnecessarily. “When I say that this is a part of me, I mean it in the most literal sense. My thoughts, my feelings, my memories... All of me is in this shard as much as it is a part of the rest of my grace.” “Wow, sounds pretty intimate.” whistled Shaw, looking up through her eyelashes playfully. “Can I add another condition? Because it’s starting to sound like you need to buy me a drink first.” “Are you done?” asked Castiel bluntly. “Sure, sure.” Shaw motioned for the angel to continue, which he did with a sigh. “Theoretically, when I fuse this shard with your soul, you'll have access to all that I have learned and experienced. I will do my best to limit its influence so my grace doesn't consume you.” at Shaw’s slight frown, he shrugged helplessly. “As I said, this process is unprecedented and is, as you might have guessed, dangerous and very likely will be extremely painful.” Her frown turned into one of grim resolve. “I can take it.” With one last sad look, Castiel opened the container and the shard gravitated up and out to circle idly around his hand. As it crossed his palm he ensnared it in his fist and, in a blink, the angel was right next to Shaw with his arm elbow deep into her chest. Grace met Soul. Burning, searing, tearing, breaking. Mind suddenly bereft of thought. Bleeding, crying, waning, fading The world went white. END of CHAPTER ONE

[edrecoveryprobs]

RE: Anons (finally!!) 1-8

In this post:

#2: How to handle surgery-related diets

#4: our fave recovery blogs

#5: dealing with bullying about vitiligo

#8: Recovering through the transition to college + how to challenge romanticizing ED thoughts

[CW behavior mention]

1. hi, sorry to bother you but I'm nervous I might have an eating disorder? I've been hospitalized for malnutrition in the past, but I just wasn't eating enough. the behaviors now are like binge purge restrict so on so on. I've been eating about [x] calories a day now because I want to lose weight without binging/ purging. should i tell someone about this, or is this normal?

FAQ #3 but yes definitely tell someone who can help!

2. I have to have a endoscopy/colonoscopy in a few weeks, and the prep for it has me completely on edge. In order to have the procedure done, I have to eat a restricted diet for a week, not eat for [x amount of time], and then take a super powerful laxative. My doctor also recommended I go on a weight loss diet, even though I'm still at a healthy BMI. After being recovered for several years, I've been struggling with a relapse, and I'm afraid that this will push me over the edge. Any tips on how to deal?

Sorry this is so late! Here’s advice for anyone else in your situation.

First, tell your doctor! Ask which elements of this are most important, and which can be worked around. Your ED is a complicating condition, so they should really know about it -- they’re treating YOU, not just your colon.

Second, give your laxatives to someone you trust, preferably someone who lives with you. If you can, enlist their support with mealtimes as well. If you get really sad at the end of the meal bc you can feel yourself falling back into that old place, that’s okay. Have them remind you that this is temporary, and that food is not as black-and-white as your ED wants it to be. Cede responsibility for figuring out your intake to this trusted person. Also -- make sure no one lets you know your weight at any point! Perhaps they can tell you when you’re back at your normal weight but that’s it!! The less you can obsessively track, the better.

Third, get into therapy NOW. Once this diet is over and everything gets quiet is when the ED stuff really starts to hit. I find that usually my recovery phase is ½ as long as my restrictive phase if I’m in therapy, and 2x as long if I’m not.

Fourth, acknowledge that this is unusually difficult and that struggling with a difficult thing doesn’t negate all the work you’ve been doing for years. You’ve built a solid foundation that has a good chance of keeping you stable through this rough time, and even if that starts to crack you have those same foundation-building skills to get it back to good.

I hope things went well for you <3

3. your blog always makes me feel valid and safe. thank you.

You’re so welcome! I’m glad it helps <3

4. Hey!! Do you know of any other positive recovery blogs? Im too scared to look in the tags bc they're full of pro ana things :( I love your blog, thank you!!! ❤❤

Fyoured was my fave, idk if they’re still active though! There’s also scienceofeds but that’s mostly summarizing current medical literature on it. Edreocoverystarfish and clinicallydepressedpug are also great! You can also check out our reblog tag

5. I've been suffering from vitiligo practically my whole life and it's something that affects me both psychically and emotionally. My brother often makes fun of me because of it, his favourite name for me is ''Michael Jackson"

That’s so shitty of him. If it helps, siblings tend to be rather shitty as they’re growing up, because it usually takes like 15-20 years to learn the basic emotional skills it takes to really be there for someone you love. Some people (especially masculine-identified people because of the social penalties associated) take longer to learn or never do at all. That’s not your fault.

For what it’s worth, siblings tend to make fun of whatever your biggest insecurities are, because humans learn how to affect others’ emotions before they learn how to affect them positively. Mine was acne for a while, especially since I struggle with dermatillomania (skin-picking) -- my siblings would wait for a Papa John’s commercial of a pepperoni pizza, point to it, and say “hey look, it’s Selena! HA HA HA!!”. My sister was really insecure about her hair being parted exactly down the middle, so my other sister and I would make fun of her for that. What I mean to say is, it’s not about the vitiligo. It’s about your brother not having learned yet how to NOT be a rude little shit.

Also, there’s no absolute that different colored patches of skin are ugly or bad. Calico cats are so cute! Freckles are adorable! Winnie Harlow is so talented! Find reminders in your life and/or online that different isn’t bad, and that this difference can be jaw-droppingly gorgeous or heart-breakingly adorable or lovably cute. It’s all about how you wear it.

And finally, know that love is always a choice -- including self-love. Rather, it is a combination of tons of small choices. Am I treating myself with love? Do I talk to myself lovingly, the way I would talk to a friend who was in my situation? Do I appreciate what my skin does for me, pigment or no pigment? Am I cultivating a life full of things and people that validate that love? It’s hard at first, it always is, but once you start it becomes a really awesome habit. Here is a great place to start (adjust pronouns as appropriate).

Sending you lots of love <3

[CW poop mention]

6. Hi, this incredibly embarrassing, but I recently experienced some personal trauma and so I am having problems with eating... Mostly restrictive and the inability to swallow some foods. However, I am having some digestive problems, mostly issues with skid marks. I was wondering if this is common and if there is a remedy for it... This is the first time I have experienced something like this. Sorry.

First, I really honestly don’t think anyone goes through their life without ever getting skid marks lol so you’re not a freak at all. I get them from time to time and I don’t really have digestive problems. Usually it just means I need to eat more fiber or adjust the balance of my diet. Also, this might sound weird, but anal kegels might help! The anal ring is all muscles, after all, and if restricting is a problem then all muscles have probably atrophied a little bit, including those. And finally, it might just be bad toilet paper. There’s lots of kinds that are practically useless and turn into a pulpy mess instead of doing their damn job. If you’re at home, consider getting stronger toilet paper (2-ply etc) or carrying baby wipes in a purse or backpack. Black underwear can also help with the insecurity aspect.

7. I love your blog so much! It helps knowing what other people are going through while making it a little humorous. Stay awesome!!

:D will do!

[CW romanticizing relapse, negative body image] 8. I have been battling with my ed for [x amount of time] now. In [y]th grade I got so tiny, I felt so pretty. I had never been skinny until then. I gained a lot of weight from being on so many medications, and now I am at an average weight but I am so unhappy with my body. I still struggle with purging and skipping meals. I start college this fall and I am terrified that I am going to let ana control me since no one will notice. I just want to feel beautiful and I know I wont until I'm tiny…

Something I’ve been going through recently is trying to lovingly remind myself when these thoughts pop up: I’m not believing this stuff because it’s true, I believe it because I’m literally crazy. It’s somewhat counterintuitive, but those beliefs can really take ahold of you if you take them seriously. But it’s just a symptom of the mental illness you know you already have. It’s like if you were prone to visual or audial hallucinations -- they feel real. They look real. They sound real. Of course you’d believe there are lions chasing you right now, because all of the senses you usually trust are indicating that that’s true. But also, if you can use the knowledge you have to try to see past them, you can actually interact much better with your environment.

Facts: you feel unhappy with your body. You still struggle with disordered behaviors. You start college this fall. College represents a big challenge to your ability to keep ana under control.

Beliefs: I can’t feel good unless I am thin. I can’t help but do what my ED says. I must keep this all a secret. I can’t get any help.

In the past 5 years, there have been times you’ve felt happy. Even when you weren’t thin. State memory means it’s hard to think of times you’ve felt differently, but it’s just a fact about human brains that we can’t feel one feeling for very long without switching it up.

Also, I guarantee you that you weren’t happy then. It’s so easy to romanticize thinness -- we see thinness romanticized literally ad nauseam -- but it’s such an empty feeling to be stuck in your ED. It’s so hopeless. It feels so crappy to walk into a restaurant with your friends, to see them all laughing and having fun when all you can think about is how terrifying it is to order food and how much you want to run away. When I really think about how awful each moment is with an ED, how I’m constantly either freaking out about eating or dreading the next time I’ll have to eat, how I had to numb myself constantly because reality felt so bleak.... Thin just isn’t worth it.

And let’s be clear: thin isn’t pretty. It’s just thin. Thin people CAN be pretty, but so can people of size, and so can very muscular people, and so can people whose body shape is more average. And eating disorders will make you thin at the expense of everything your body needs to maintain itself. It’s like insisting that houses are only thin if they have columns out front, so you hack off the front door, peel off the siding, pry up all the furniture, and stack up this pile of garbage to make some columns. You’re better off with a column-less but functioning house than one full of holes and empty inside.

Before you get to college, look up the mental health resources. Sign up for counseling through your school ASAP!!! Counseling tends to fill up as midterms approach, so this way you’ll be covered in case things go downhill later. Also, TELL people you trust. This you must do even if everything in you screams not to, because everything in you will scream not to, because your ED brain is actually trying to kill you. The more trusted people you tell, the less you have to fight it on your own, and the more resources you have to fight it. ALSO, see if there is an ED support group or a body positivity group on campus. Being around people who can gently call out disordered thoughts is a huge relief! And finally, explore other things that make you feel beautiful. Some people like makeup, and seeing how much of appearance is just illusion. Some feel beautiful when they know that they are strong and agile. Experiment with your clothing. Cut or dye your hair. Now is the time to test out different styles, and those are so much more fun to work on than calorie counting.

Lastly, you have more to do than be tiny. Mice are tiny. 5 cent candies are tiny. Pinky toe nails are tiny. What can you do that’s new? That helps you learn? That’s helpful? That’s exciting? Ana ignores all of that because of an obsession with BEING one thing. But ana doesn’t know shit about all the weird, cool, funny, wild stuff you can do. Show her what she’s missing.

Best of luck to you, and if you find yourself struggling in college don’t be afraid to message us back. We’re here for you throughout your recovery process <3

[lightlorn]

L, Y, H, E, A, R, T, K. I. for shizuka, aria, and kokoro.

late festivities. ll accepting.

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

Shizuka has a lot of love for their son, their sister, and the few fellow outsiders they allow into their inner circle. She would do anything for Akira and Rieko especially. They also adore their cat Aniki, known as Buta before their son started talking and decided on what the overgrown beast was to be called. Deep down, in some secretive part of themself, they do feel love for their former patron, though they do not know how to define it.

Aria has love for her community and people above all, but her big heart has so much room in it. She loves her true companions, loves the outsider, the downtrodden, those who she can champion. Beyond that, she has not exactly received steady romantic love – Tamlen, Sten, Anders, hers is a sorry little string of affections unrequited, never acted upon, or broken up by reasons beyond their control.

Kokoro is far more reserved by contrast. She loves her daughter, of course, more than anything. Blood means nothing when it comes to her relationship with Mads. Then we get to debates about verse – in her secondary verse, she has a complicated love for her father and his oldest students, stunted by her adolescent problems that made her put up walls. She loves your Xemnas, of course, without hesitation, though she demands a fair bit of him.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Shizuka is fiercely protective of what they consider hers. You can see this even in their introduction, how readily they went to bat for the owner of the club they worked. Now, they’re most readily compromised morally by the need to defend those they are close to, which is dangerous when you recognize the kind of people they keep company with.

Aria has always been the protective sort, defending her childhood friends from consequences or danger. This has endured throughout her life, to the point that even the sight of a clearly non-threatening Isolde saw Aria put herself between the hysterical woman and Alistair. When Anders fled Amaranthine, Aria did all in her power to stall or mislead the Templars that hunted him. She is the kind that protects others even if it puts her in some danger.

Kokoro has lost a lot in her time traveling worlds. She will defend first and ask questions later where her loved ones are concerned. Especially in romantic relationships, she tends to put herself in the line of fire to spare whoever has her heart. I think this is best seen in the Kokoro/Terra verse where, after all is said and done, she tries to take on his responsibilities to protect him from a brewing breakdown that is sure to be exacerbated by the task her father handed down to him as a parting shot. If she can keep even one person she loves from some pain, she will take it as her own without complaint.

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

All of them are demisexual, Shizuka to the point of questioning if they might be aromantic prior to getting a handle on their untrusting nature. Shizuka doesn’t trust others with their whole, so they keep their heart locked tight in their chest. Aria has had her heart broken one too many a time – by Tamlen, by unreturned affection, by Anders – to let it wander away from her again. And Kokoro is still carrying the weight of a childhood spent emotionally distant from others, and struggles with the idea of letting herself love another wholly.

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Shizuka is not the touchy feely type. Their hugs are fine, but unless Akira needs some stim pressure or their kid sister is in town, they tend to try and get it over with as quickly as possible. That said, if you hug them first then their touch starved ass will tense and then melt with relief.

Aria likes hugs! Provided someone is allowed to touch her, she will give them the biggest, strongest bear hugs. What good is all her training as an archer if she cannot use her massive arm muscles to dispense the finest of embraces? It would be a sin to allow the gifts the gods granted her to atrophy!

Kokoro is not much of a hugger. She has the Blue Blood standard of just offering a clasped shoulder or a ruffle of hair. When someone needs real comfort or a hug, however, she tends to put maximum effort into it, to the point it can be hard to tell who is clinging to who.

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

Answered here!

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

Shizuka is an absolute cynic. All they’ve ever seen of romantic love is settling, boredom, or an absolute shitshow. Sadly, past relationships have set them firmly in the camp that anything they get into will fall into the latter category, and they refuse to settle or live a classical life that they spent so long running from. They want someone to understand them, but even when they find that they spend all their time nitpicking and being sure that it’s only skin deep.

Aria is not much of a romantic in more of the classical sense, but in a relationship she proves to be quite the amorous partner. She wants the world to be better, for people to be better to each other, and that starts with her. This is the kind of person that love stories will be written about after they are gone, for all they do for the person who captures their heart.  Ask me about that Arianders thread I had just before the Chantrypalooza, our realistic Hero is a true blue romantic at heart.

Kokoro is... somewhere between the poles. She has no time for romance throughout canon events, too busy keeping to a goal she was forced to sideline for the last ten years due to lack of leads. That does not stop, in some verses, romance finding her. In our Xemnas/Kokoro verse especially, it hits both of them like a freight train. But even then, we see Kokoro prioritize Xemnas becoming better, gaining freedom, over possessing him as a lover, and she always pursues her own goals without sacrificing anything to him. She’s romantic when there is a good place and time for it. Otherwise, she knows her priorities.

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

Shizuka mocks the very notion. Not even to be cruel or because they’re a cynic, but because they know what goes into maintaining a relationship. Love is a lot of work, and understanding, and it’s not always pretty. But it’s something you commit to, and something you face together. There’s no real falling to them -- you make a choice every day to continue with it, even when it doesn’t feel like a choice at all.

Aria likes the notion, probably commits to some idea of finding soulmates, but is not holding her breath on it being a reality. There’s so many people in the world, and you can only meet so many. Maybe some can find true love, but others will find a variety of love besides. So long as it’s healthy, so long as it leaves you better than it found you, then whatever love you choose is good, never mind if it’s ‘true love.’

Kokoro really wants it to be true in her heart of hearts, for something to just click and make it easy, but that dumbs down a very complex issue. Love is a lot more than just meeting someone and riding off into the sunset and having the best days of your life, she knows that even with her usual lack of romantic history. True love might not exist, but the right person does, and they’ll help make this world a little more stable for being in it, just as she might make their world a little better.

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Shizuka has decades of experience. They’ve got the practice on lockdown, and can gauge fairly well what any given partner wants out of the experience. It’s all part of their plays at intimacy, knowledge, or whatever else they can get out of a person. As for a genuine kiss, well, they’re still pretty skilled, but perhaps a bit hesitant.

Aria is an earnest kisser. Maybe not one for finesse or natural talent, but when they kiss someone they mean it, and they make it something special. Whether a first kiss or a thousandth, their object of their affection will never have to question where they stand with her so long as they’re eagerly trading kisses. It’s actually kind of sweet.

Kokoro has kissed one boy, in her teens, on a dare. Kokoro has no actual experience beyond this adolescent experience, and while the boy proved positively frazzled by the act, that might owe more to his partner’s beauty and standing than actual skill. She’s probably pretty bad at it until she gets some practice in, which might be endearing to some.

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Shizuka better be dying before they say it to anyone they are not directly related to. Rieko and Akira hear it constantly -- Akira especially -- but everyone else holding their breath to hear it is going to suffocate long before Shizuka even thinks of saying such a thing. They’re more likely to say it through ride or die actions than openly, verbally admit it. 

Aria used to be open about the sentiment, sharing it freely, but her losses have made her a bit more reserved. After Tamlen’s loss, I think it became a bit harder for her to form the words, and then depending on the verse, her history with Anders really blunted her tongue. In a time of great emotion or stakes, however, I think she could remember the shape of the words and offer them again.

Kokoro doesn’t have a lot of people to love, but those who got through her walls and into her heart will never have to doubt where they stand with her. Once she loves someone, she will say it, as many times as they need to hear it. This is what makes her a good mom friend to her companions and an even better romantic interest to those who want to devote themselves to her socially awkward ass.