@comeonscully - Tumblr Blog

The Boat (Virgin with Corona) (1897) by Odilon Redon

And SIMILARLY… why, as someone who has been going to therapy off and on for over 15 years, do I have nothing to show for it?

Like I try not to be cynical, I try to be supportive of mental health shit and therapy and meds especially as someone who struggles with it myself, but I’ve lost faith in it completely. It’s something that direly needs an overhaul but since we aren’t handing out lobotomies anymore everyone thinks this is the most stellar treatment possible but it’s not.

I go in and give them the same long list of symptoms, and I get depression, and/or anxiety, general mood disorder, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder. Am I being picky to think that people supposedly reading from the same book of diagnostic standards should be coming to the same conclusion?? Is that not the whole reason of creating the DSM in the first place?? Like I remember learning about whoever it was that went to different hospitals with the same symptoms (like me!) and getting different diagnoses and treatments (like me!) and coming up with a diagnostic guideline specifically to prevent that.

And THEN the two therapists I’ve had since the borderline diagnosis have straight up laughed at the idea of me having it. Like haha, nah girl, that’s definitely not it. I’ve worked with them before and you’re nothing like them AT ALL. Even tried doing the whole DBT thing, that’s how I met the second one, cuz talking therapy just straight up doesn’t fucking help but that’s all that’s fucking suggested by literally anyone and the therapist I had gone to said I wasn’t really a good fit for it but we could do traditional therapy and guess what? It didn’t help.

Like please… what am I supposed to do.

I’m at a stage in my life where I’m just accepting I’m not as important as I think I am and actually it’s pretty crazy and very victim mindset of me to blah blah blah and that’s somehow been more helpful than literally anything else has, but then I go through periods where I start to struggle and I just have to fucking white knuckle it out. Like this is week two? three? of me once again wishing I was fucking dead and wanting this to fucking stop (even though it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be but FUCK I’m tired of hurting FOR NO REASON) and what exactly am I supposed to do?!!!??????

Even with meds I maxed out basically everything and then my doc hit me with a “we can try _____ (forgot the name) but it has the possible side affect of causing tremors even when you stop taking it.” Uh, hard pass. I’m in my 20s dude. Wtf.

Like is it just me that’s running into this??? And I’ve been in three different states too and it’s all the same everywhere I go so I know it’s not just a regional thing. Like what’s going on????

And in an adjacent tangent:

When I was 11 and showed up to several professionals exhibiting symptoms of depression and then launched into a spiel about how I was raised in a religion where I was only allowed to interact with people within said religion and since my parents had decided to stop going to meetings our entire family stopped talking to us and I lost every close relationship to me (including the ones with my parents and sister as they, too, were adjusting to the shunning and we all went our own separate ways, a fracture that genuinely lasts to this day)-

The responsible thing for them to have done was to introduce me to coping skills other than fucking cutting myself, which they were also fully knowledgeable of.

Wanna put me on antidepressants, buddy? Sure! Go ahead. I don’t give a shit, even though literally none of them has ever done anything other than give me side effects. But fuck man, don’t yall teach breathing exercises or something? I was a fucking kid. I was a preteen. I was just barely an adolescent. Did they think my parents would teach me how to cope similar to how schools think parents will teach their kids finances? All I ever learned was to never talk about how I feel except to a therapist, cry behind closed doors, and to fucking drink my problems away.

My marriage is like… not the best, hasn’t ever been the best, and honestly a big part of that is me and not just general compatibility issues though all in all we’re just not that great of a fit in the first place, but that’s besides the point.

It’s so fucking crazy how whenever I talk about it to people, therapists included, I get shit like:

-“at least you experienced poverty as a child so you know what to expect” (from a marriage counselor, and the poverty I experienced wasn’t that bad, but like. Pass.)

-“there’s government programs for stuff like that” (referring to food stamps, completely unprompted, because of course I wouldn’t be able to afford living on my own, coming from a friend who is almost 30 and hasn’t moved out of her parents house yet)

-“you should redownload Facebook for Facebook marketplace to get deals on furniture when you move out and also find roommates” (pass. Not particularly on the marketplace because I do miss just browsing but the fact of having to do that, and also I just straight up don’t trust strangers at all like that like??)

-“you can move in with me but your cat would have to stay down the street with my brother” (unprompted but also why would I do that??? My cat literally only likes me. I would never do that to her or to me. She’s what keeps me going)

-“you could get a futon because honestly I think the mattress industry is a scam anyway and it would be cheaper” (from someone who sleeps on a mattress)

But anyway it’s so wild that whenever the subject pops up everyone fully acknowledges I would for sure no longer be financially comfortable in the slightest and would at bare minimum be paycheck to paycheck with no car and no way to buy one, but everyone just suggests it like it’s easy?? Like he isn’t my biggest supporter despite his flaws?? Like at least he picks up the phone. Almost every time I call them it rings to voicemail and half of them can’t be bothered to respond to the majority of my texts.

Also, like… yall know I’ll lose my health insurance, right? It’s just so fucked. Like overall everyone that suggests it like it means nothing comes across as completely out of touch with a reality that isn’t their own. They act like because I’m not happy I have to for sure leave him as soon as possible. He is genuinely the only person I can rely on in the slightest. I know that makes me a massive loser but that’s just the truth of it. I find it soooooooooo fucking difficult to connect to new people and over the years my friend list has dwindled down to two, one of them being more of an acquaintance than anything.

And with my bestie if I ever even try to bring up my own culpability she completely dismisses it and tries to say it’s somehow emotional abuse, that he’s twisting my arm to feel a certain way when honestly it’s the truth. I’m just a hard person to even be friends with. Though my mental health has improved over the years I am still an extremely capricious and mercurial individual, to the point even professionals can’t even fully agree on what’s “wrong” with me. Even when I fess up to my ugly moments she seems to act like it’s something he convinced me of instead of it being the truth, which, hello??? And she’s someone who has similar struggles so it makes no sense at all she seems to want to put me on a pedestal.

theghoulboysblog

these photos make me so emotional. package deal. do not separate them.

ashishere0w0

I miss them💔

vintagehomecollection

The “Turkish corner” was a craze in the 1890s. This contemporary version has curtained walls, quilted banquettes, and an oversized pouf made of sheets printed in a paisley design. The look is cozy and eclectic, a blending of modern and traditional things.

All About Wicker, 1978

#saw this referenced in the haunting of hill house and just had to see it #looks good #I want one

poetbooy

writhe

“you all are great people, and what you’re doing is art, but it’s also a crime punishable by 28 days in prison” is a real sentence that got said to me tonight by a security officer i think i’m living my best life

writhe

this is what was happening if anyone was wondering

joylessmarxist

femmequeens

Margot Robbie photographed by Ethan James-Green for Vogue’s Summer issue. Styled by Gabriella Karefa-Johnson. Hair by Shay Ashual; Makeup, Pati Dubroff using Chanel. Produced by Rosco Production. Creative Concept and Set Design: Julia Wagner.