They All Look Like Assholes Lmfao

Uhm.

Most of BSD is missing from Mangadex—yikes.

my friends being annoyed when i talk to people outside outside the friendgroup …bitch am i bunny corcoran? 😕

henry winter x reader headcanons:

he leaves you for someone in the greek class

scones, french literature, and chess.

Bunny when he took a leisurely walk in the woods and saw all of his friends suspiciously gathered around collecting ferns:

A good morning kiss

Parasite's paradise

granite hills: my experience with the mental health system

all stories have a beginning, this one starts with me waking up, puking my guts out over the course of 2 minutes, and calling 911.

i spoke to the operator for 5 minutes, we talked about our pets, about our hobbies and our conversation was cut short when the police opened the door.

he shined his flashlight around my room, in complete disarray, a single lamp for light, the putrid smell of my puke next to my chair with a bunch of disintegrated pills in it.

i looked up from my bed, said goodbye to the operator and covered my eyes as he shined his flashlight at me, he asked a bunch of questions, 2 paramedics came in, and escorted me outside onto a stretcher, they took my vitals, which to me was entirely usual, i had done this about 300 times before, and it was just happening again, in another place, in another time, but it was comforting.

the paramedic in the back asked me about what i took, i told him, i gave him all my information, and then we talked as they drove me to the hospital, i laid there on the stretcher and stared out the back window, watching the road i had driven down a thousand times before, familiar.

i got there and was met with a room of 6 nurses all interrogating me, i was confused, i couldn't remember how much, how many, when, i apologized and i gave multiple different answers, none of which helped, i got examined for an hour, hooked up to a bunch of ivs, an ekg, everything else, my body slowly stopped working, walking across the hall ended up with me hyperventilating, they gave me potassium and i writhed in pain, my face flushed as i experienced an even worse pain, i even began to think i should've never called anyone, that i should've laid there and died in my bed.

they left me alone in this room, they stared at me from the desk across the hall as i woke up, threw up, and went back to sleep, all throughout the night, until i had nothing left in me to throw up. my veins burned and i just accepted it, all i could do was accept it, i wanted to run away but i accepted it.

the next day they came in and told me they need to move me, they're sending me to milwaukee, froedtert hospital, i sign everything and lay there, it has always been a source of comfort to accept the situation, to relent to whatever anybody else wanted, they tell me what to do, i sign the papers, they send me away, completely usual, and i accepted it.

i got to the hospital, and was met with another room of nurses, they transferred me to the hospital bed, and i stared at the ceiling, i just continued to relent to what was happening, they examined me, they did my vitals, they washed me down with wipes and i felt humiliated, but all i could do was accept what was happening.

they flushed my iv's, the scent of bleach so familiar to me at this point, comforting in a way it should've never been, and slowly the nurses left one by one, until i was left with one, she sat there and she took care of me, she listened, she helped me in every way she could. i felt humiliated, my inability to work my own limbs, my own mind in the way i wanted. to have to be taken care of, but it was comforting regardless, to relent myself to this. i would've liked to have stayed in that moment forever.

i woke up in the middle of the night to a different nurse, to one i didn't know, i felt scared to ask for help, so i didn't, i tried to do things myself, relinquished to my bed, and hoped that my flailing would get her attention, to make her help me, so i didn't have to ask.

this went on, waking up to a different nurse, until i was surrounded by a room of doctors, they were friendly, and this was scary, 5 people standing in front of me, offering condolences, asking if i had questions, i laid there and i listened, i didn't look them in the eye, i shook my head, and i nodded.

then i was transferred to a different room, and my sitter was replaced with a camera, and i was free from all the machines, and i slowly regained the ability to use my arms, but at the cost of being isolated, i couldn't call my mom, they had taken my phone, i couldn't do anything but keep hitting that big red button until someone came to help me do these most basic things.

and i accepted it, there was nothing i could do, i just accepted it, then 7pm came, a shift change, a new nurse introduced herself, her name was abby, and another, a cna, her name was hunter, they were both so pretty, so nice. for the first time during this journey i felt totally comfortable, i would call them over all the time for the tiniest things, apologize with a smile, just because i needed to speak to someone, and that's what they were, someone.

one night i was especially sad, i called them, and a new cna came, her name was payton, she let me talk, about my complaints, about how i was feeling, she related to me, she was kind to me, she tried to understand, and that's all i wanted. she left and when she came back, she came back with hunter and abby, she brought coloring books, word searches, and they played my music on the nurses terminal.

they sat with me and we just.. goofed around, for 2 hours, and that was the first time i had smiled during this period, i laughed, they sat in my bed, they knew what i needed, and they helped me the best they could, but of course, slowly, one by one, they had to leave. i was alone. i had lost my appetite on the word search, the coloring page, both left half done, but for the next while i would think about this moment and smile.

the next night abby came back, alone, and she asked if i wanted to go on a walk, i said of course, we walked for 40 minutes, and we talked, i let her talk about all her stuff, i was so happy to listen, just to speak to another person. she was so kind, and nice. she never had to do any of this stuff for me, she chose to. she told me she would fly to north carolina to a friend's house for her weekend, i thought about this all night.

i went to sleep and woke up, early, she was still working, she came into my room and still covered up to my mouth in my blankets i said "i think it's really great that.. you have a friend that you would fly across the country for" and she smiled and she said "reece, you deserve someone like that too.. someone who would drop everything to be with you.." i just smiled, she knew, but i hid it.

she left and i just cried, the most human thing anyone has said to me in so long, and all i could do was cry, that was her last shift, we wouldn't meet again, so i cried, i didn't want to lose her, but i accepted it.

and then one day, one especially boring, isolating, horrible day, a doctor comes in, with short blonde hair she tells me she's working on my plan, that i can go to a mental hospital soon, and i'm not listening, i'm just looking into her eyes, and she grabs my knee gently and says "you'll get through this" at first i recoiled at the touch, so unused to that sort of contact, i look surprised, and she turns and leaves, and then i miss it, so much.

then the paramedics come, i'm getting sent to granite hills, i have never heard of this place, i'm worried, a short ambulance ride, i'm there, i get rolled in, i get up, i've done this 10 times now, just another intake, like every other time, but when i get released into the unit, there's something different.

no one comes to talk to me, about my case, about how i feel, about how i got here. my overdose story is met with quiet nods and vigorous writing, documenting my mood, my appearance, my behavior, but i am never asked if i'm okay, and i accept that.

and this trend continues, for days at a time i am neglected, uninformed. i watch a kid pass out, another patient grabs him just before his head cracks against the ground, he gently lays him down, a nurse runs in, quickly asses that "he's just playing" and it takes them 15 minutes of convulsing before they call a code blue.

the kid wakes up, all he can talk about is basketball, soccer, when we go to the gym. he walks up and down the halls at midnight asking to play soccer, and i lay there, and i accept it.

i watch as techs instigate fights, escalate instead of calm, i watch as patients have to advocate for the more timid patients, me being one of them. i see as the older patients console and talk to the younger ones, as the techs sit outside the room talking about their plans for tomorrow.

i keep walking up to the desk, i ask to speak to my therapist, i say i need to talk, i can't go to sleep, i lay down and tears start pouring out of my eyes, i'm desperate, i come up 15 minutes later, ask everyone, eventually someone agrees.

i sit there and i pour my heart out to this nurse, i sob and i try to stay coherent, she tells me i have to get over it, i say that i understand that, that i can't, that i think about it everyday. that it's not fair, that i am trying, that i tried so hard for so long, and i was alone, and now here, now, i'm more alone than i ever was.

she listens, that's all i could ask for, she says she has to go back to work, i nod my head, i thank her for talking to me, for listening, i leave, and i go to sleep, and i accept this.

i sit in the hallways, the 23 other patients loudness echos down the hall, i cover my ears, i ask for headphones, they refuse, i ask for ear plugs, they don't fit, they don't figure out anything for me. 4 techs for 24 patients, there was constant screaming, talking to themselves, and i think to myself, what a horrible decision i have made.

and every night i go to sleep, i wish i could die, that i never asked for any of this, that i just wanted help, and i wake up and tell the nurse i slept fine, that i'm fine, because i need to get out of this now.

everyday i get worse, and everyday i have to use every skill i know just to stay sane, constantly finding the silver lining in everything, my body and mind are just so exhausted, but i can't give up, or i won't get out. i need a support system, i keep reminding myself i need a support system, i need my therapist back, i miss her and i need her.

i watched as all the loud people get drugged out of their minds, they sit in the chairs in the day room and snore all day, they fall asleep at lunch, they fall asleep standing up, and i refused the meds because i know what they do, and i refused to accept it.

for once in my life i started saying no, i started declining things, i started complaining, anyone who would listen to me, i complained to, until they walked away. i didn't care, i'd find someone else to complain to.

some days i'd wake up and wonder if they had accidentally sent me to a correctional facility, the techs getting upset despite how polite i was, saying may i, please, thank you in every single sentence, acting totally subservient despite the rude answers. i knew what they were doing, and i refused to participate.

and i knew places like this existed, but i have never lived them, it felt like home, in the worst possible way, all the worst parts of home, the screaming, the horrible food, the stiff bed, the smell. but i knew i just had to leave, all i had to do was participate in the things i needed to, decline everything that wasn't necessary, and leave.

i stopped complaining, i started accepting, not because i wanted to, but because it wasn't the right moment to complain, i was complaining to people who willingly participated in it, who knew what was going on and accepted it, i knew i had to memorize what i saw, and document it. and that's what i did.

i saw every single injustice, i saw how horrible they treated others, how they treated me. a place that should've been kind, accepting, and tolerant, was instead rude, rejecting, and intolerant. at every single corner, so i stopped asking questions, and i just did what they wanted. when one tech declined me, i found another, and when questioned i answered simply "they told me it was alright" that's all i could do.

had i not been so experienced, so educated in this system, i would've cracked, i would've broke down, and i would've went back into another crisis, but i knew i just had to wait, that i couldn't do anything that would set me even a single foot back.

and i got out, finally, and these simple things, these things i missed so dearly became so much more important, to not be burdened in this environment was like a breath of fresh air. my dinky, ratty, stinky room became the most beautiful thing in the world, my cat, my most perfect beautiful boy. to just exist in this place, alone, free of the manipulation, the instigating, all that stuff i had to deal with.. it's amazing.

in the completely wrong way, using all the wrong methods, granite hills helped me, it showed me how to appreciate what i have, in front of me, right now. that no matter the horrible people i encounter in my life, they would never lock me in a facility, watch me decay slowly, document it, refuse to assist me, and let figure everything out for myself.

i am so appreciative of the people who see people like me, and see an opportunity to assist, to care for, to speak to. instead of someone to abuse, tease, and mistreat. these simple kindnesses make such a difference in this horrible, tainted system i accepted, and relented to.

“Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that’s why we’re so anxious to lose them, don’t you think?”

– The Secret History

Daily affirmation: I am not a slave to consumerism.