Dissociatedbi - This Blog Is My Therapist's Idea

every time i see those posts like ‘what food from a show did YOU always wanna try’ i go lol none? but i just remembered im a liar

i always wanted the fucking soup brock made in the pokemon anime

“do you really wanna be on medication for the rest of your life” if you knew me unmedicated you’d want me to be on medication for the rest of my life too

Recently I keep thinking about how I wasn't allowed to clean myself properly as a child. My mother was obsessed with ridiculing me for my general hygiene making her look bad, but didn't allow me to condition my hair or moisturize my face or use soap on certain areas of my body. Like why? If you're so obsessed with how I look, why are you trying to make me look bad?

Just. For the record, for anyone worried after seeing that post; Traumadumping on the first day of therapy is like. A good therapist’s dream. Like they WANT you to spill out your problems so they can help you work through them. When you only have an hour with someone once a month it is a Godsend for them to be able to just. Say whats hurting them right off the bat. The biggest problem I had at therapy was I became so conditioned to not talk about my issues that nothing was able to get done. So please, ‘traumadump’ to your therapist. Its what they’re paid for. They are trained to decompress, you don’t have to worry about them.

Have I told y’all about my husband’s Fork Theory?  If I did already, pretend I didn’t, I’m an old.

So the Spoon Theory is a fundamental metaphor used often in the chronic pain/chronic illness communities to explain to non-spoonies why life is harder for them. It’s super useful and we use that all the time. But it has a corollary.  You know the phrase, “Stick a fork in me, I’m done,” right? Well, Fork Theory is that one has a Fork Limit, that is, you can probably cope okay with one fork stuck in you, maybe two or three, but at some point you will lose your shit if one more fork happens.  A fork could range from being hungry or having to pee to getting a new bill or a new diagnosis of illness. There are lots of different sizes of forks, and volume vs. quantity means that the fork limit is not absolute. I might be able to deal with 20 tiny little escargot fork annoyances, such as a hangnail or slightly suboptimal pants, but not even one “you poked my trigger on purpose because you think it’s fun to see me melt down” pitchfork.

This is super relevant for neurodivergent folk. Like, you might be able to deal with your feet being cold or a tag, but not both. Hubby describes the situation as “It may seem weird that I just get up and leave the conversation to go to the bathroom, but you just dumped a new financial burden on me and I already had to pee, and going to the bathroom is the fork I can get rid of the fastest.”

Skills you shouldn’t have to learn to survive yet child abuse forces you to:

moving around without making any noise

moving around the place without turning on the light

locking/unlocking doors in complete darkness

staying stoic in the face of screaming, threats, and violence

pretense of being calm even if in deep panic

perfect pretense of being fine even in the middle of breakdown

silent crying, crying without making any noise or even tears

doing physical work while crying or injured and not stopping

sensing when someone is angry or stressed because now they’re a danger to you

comforting and calming people down in desperate attemt to lower the amount of danger you’re in

recognizing a person by their footsteps, or a car by the noise it makes when turning to a stop

turning all injustices and anger inwards and making it into self hatred

hiding scars and injuries

expertly making excuses for marks or scars on yourself

dissociating in a second if there’s danger of new trauma

repressing mountains of trauma

surviving emotionally completely on your own

There is a new Chrome extension that detects if a video you’re streaming has a strobe in it, will freeze the video and stick this warning up there until you approve it.

WHERE THE HELL HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE????

Nothing more punk than someone who is in pain all the fucking time and just continues to exist.

Edit: this isn't about random characters. This is about physically disabled people.

Here's a thought: if a child begs to be allowed to see a counselor and the parent's response is to prevent them from accessing mental health care because you're afraid CPS will be involved? That's a red fucking flag.

If a kid carries around a window crank and a screwdriver in their bag, tells you it's secret from their parents, "just in case," because their windows have been screwed shut and the cranks removed? That's a red flag!

If a kid tells an adult they trust, "my parent is an asshole and I'm afraid of them," that's a red mother fucking flag.

If a kid wears shorts to school with bruises covering their legs and makes teary eye contact with their teacher through the entire class period? Red. Flag.

If a straight-A student fails an exam, looks like they haven't slept in two days, is holding their arm awkwardly to the side as if it is hurt, and stands in their guidance counselor's office, shaking and crying, convinced that that failed exam is the end of the world? guess what color the flag is. RED.

If a kid passes out after a hot day of outdoor activities and when their parent arrives to take them home they scream at the kid for making them look bad- the flag is red!

All of the fucking flags were red. Fuck.