The Mandalorian - Blog Posts
still crying over how gently and politely din held her wrists (I am touch starved)
bo katan: din, there’s 20 stormtroopers, you’ll never make it
din: …
bo katan: don’t say it
ahsoka: don’t say it
greef: don’t say it
the armorer: don’t say it
paz(rip): don’t say it
din: I like those odds
*exasperated sigh from everyone*
din to bo katan season 2
din: you fake mandalorian I hate you
season 3
din: I will protect you with my life slay queen marry me
no thoughts whatsoever just him
ahsoka: I cannot train him
din: what? why not?
din, in his mind: thank God
desperately in need of a brown eyed mustached agent named javier
Din: he’s just a bounty idc I need money
Din, 2 days later: what did you just say about my son?
Din: I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold
Me: *blushes* so enemies to lovers?
episode 5 of book of boba fett:
Din: I won the darksaber in battle, it is mine
Paz: nuh uh
What Taylor Swift album they love | Pedro Pascal characters
Din
This man is a lover stan IDC!!!
Absolutely blasts afterglow any second he can
That helmet has a built in speaker it’s a canon event
Does a small head bop with a straight face
He had the archer on repeat while Grogu was with Luke I know it
Joel
Evermore is the only answer
Cowboy like me is heard around the world every time his grumpy little boot takes a step
Right where you left me literally describes outbreak day
Ellie def makes him jam to 1989 with her and tells him to stop “being a grump”
Javier
Reputation (obviously)
“There were sirens in the beat of your heart” GETAWAY CAR WAS WRITTEN FOR HIM!!!
He’s the type to stare dramatically out of a window and pretend he’s in a music video (canon there’s no arguing with me)
Listens to don’t blame me whenever he sees a woman he finds attractive (this happens often)
Javi g
This man is in the top .01% of 1989 listeners on spotify
Constantly listened to you are in love and thought of Gabriella
Bad blood reminds him of his cousin
Screams the lyrics to new romantics everytime he drives down his favorite cliff
Would absolutely make an Instagram reel montage to any song on this album
whiskey
Okay hear me out, fearless (tv) but sometimes switches to his speak now era
He skips last kiss because it reminds him of his ex
Hangs out with Ginger then jams to that’s the way I loved you
SWEARS that he doesn’t like any Taylor songs but is a swiftie at heart
Hacked into a statesman computer to get free eras tour tickets
Did anyone notice how The Book if Boba Fett sorta turned into The Mandalorian season 3?
Luke Skywalker/Darth Vader by BossLogic
He’s crying under the helmet and y’all know it
Doctor: you have 18 minutes left to live. Use your time wisely.
Me:
Unable to see pictures of Pedro in TUWOMT with the shotgun without thinking about how that’s what Din’s face looked like under the helmet when he used the pulse rifle
sometimes family is you, the cute kid you met on the flight, and his mysterious dad
The last thing Boba expected, was to meet an utterly adorable child on the flight home, and then get mistaken for the child's buir and the riduur of the child's actual buir.
Rating: G
Pairings: Boba Fett & Grogu; Din Djarin/Boba Fett; brief Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Warnings: reference to past near-fatal jellyfish stings
Prompts: @bobadinweek 2021 day 4 | family & this
“Give us a call when you land, ok?”
Boba rolled his eyes exasperatedly at the third reminder. “Yes, O’buir.”
Obi-Wan smiled fondly at his child’s antics through the screen. “Sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”
“Yes, O’buir,” Boba sighed theatrically. “I’m 25. I can make my way home from the airport.”
But he couldn’t help the instinctive face he made when Jango appeared in the frame only to drape his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and hook his chin over the other’s shoulder to kiss his cheek.
“Buir!” he said exasperatedly. “Stop doing that every time I call home, for Force’s sake. You can be sappy when I’m not there!”
Jango merely smirked at him while Obi-Wan hid a laugh behind his palm.
Oh Boba just knew his buir was doing it on purpose to get a rise outta him! He scowled at the pair, not that it did anything to stop them. No, they had been that way for 15 standard years already, and would be that way till they joined the ka’ra.
(And he wouldn’t have them any other way. He only hoped that he would one day find a riduur who would look at him the way his buire looked at each other.)
The hall speaker came alive with a chime, interrupting any further conversation.
“That must be your boarding call,” commented Obi-Wan. “Have a safe flight, dear. Love you.”
“Safe flight, Bob’ika. We’ll see you when you get home,” added Jango.
“Mm, yeah. Love you, buire.” Boba waved back at them before ending the call.
Sighing, he slid the datapad into his jacket and shouldered his carry-on before pulling on his buy’ce again. At the boarding announcement of the rows including his, he joined the others making their way onto the aircraft.
“Welcome aboard, sir,” greeted the Togrutan flight attendant, glancing over Boba’s documents. “We wish you a pleasant flight.”
Boba tipped his head briefly in acknowledgement. Ahead of him, the mass of people slowly inched their way to their seats. Lowering the audio input of his buy’ce to reduce the audible hum of the craft, he joined them, squeezing his way past people until he arrived at his row.
More preoccupied with getting his carry-on into the overhead cabin space, he did not fully register the presence of his row-mates until a cheerful chirp caught his attention.
“Oh,” he breathed out, sliding into his seat which was thankfully an aisle one. “And who might you be, ad’ika?”
Big brown eyes stared back at him curiously from an impossibly tiny body, floppy green ears twitching ever so slightly. The kid was swaddled in thick robe-like clothing and had a child’s seat belt fastened neatly over its body where it sat in the center seat. Tipping its head, the child cooed at Boba.
“His name is Grogu.”
Boba looked up at the person sitting by the window and his breath caught at the sight of the unpainted pure beskar buy’ce.
The mando was clad in an unassuming, loose-fitting outfit of a shirt, jacket and jeans. But Boba had grown up around ori'ramikade, his buir being one himself, and had seen them in all sorts of attire.
He knew an experienced combatant when he saw one.
(Not to mention beskar was still incredibly rare. Not even the ramikade owned pure pieces of beskar’gam. So for the mando to be wearing the pure unpainted metal and as their buy’ce no less, they had to be talented enough to still keep it even with all the aruetiise who would gladly slaughter them for it.)
“I see,” he murmured. Straightening up slightly, he offered his forearm. “Boba Fett. Clan Fett, House Mereel. He/him.”
The mando clasped Boba’s arm, a silent strength in their grip. “Mando. He/him,” he replied, offering no more information.
Boba merely nodded as they let go. It wasn’t the first time he’d met a traditionalist.
(And it elevated his opinion of the man’s skill even higher. Though it did also raise the question of why he had given out his ad’s name. Perhaps the child was not used to being addressed otherwise.)
“Well met, Mando.”
The child squeaked, waving his clawed hands at Boba. He laughed softly at the adorable cry for attention.
“Well met, Grogu,” he said seriously, gently grasping one tiny hand.
As the pre-flight announcements began, the mando distracted the child with a shiny silver ball. The kid was happy enough to play with the item, rolling it back and forth between his hands.
Meanwhile Boba pulled out his own datapad and busied himself with a few interesting research papers he’d not had time to read while juggling his semester’s course load. The 9-hour flight would give him more than enough time to make a sizable dent in his reading list.
He connected his buy’ce to the in-flight entertainment system easily enough, and was soon absorbed in his reading, strains of warbat trance playing over his internal comms.
Engrossed as he was, he barely registered the passing of time until a soft insistent patting of his thigh caught his attention. He looked down from his datapad to find the kid tapping the outside of his leg, wide eyes fixed on his buy’ce.
“What is it, ad’ika?” he asked quietly, switching off his music.
Grogu cooed at him and raised his arms up. Boba glanced over at the mando, but the man seemed unaware of his ad’s antics. The silver buy’ce gave no hint of what could be happening beneath, though Boba figured there was a good chance the man was fast asleep.
Truthfully it was highly unlikely that the mando would be willing to let his guard down enough to fall asleep on public transport, especially around so many strangers and with an ad to protect. But it was even more unlikely that he would let his ad interact so unreservedly with an unknown, even a fellow mando’ad, if he was aware of such interaction taking place.
At Boba’s prolonged inaction, the child grew more and more fussy, his whines getting louder as he smacked his hand forcefully against Boba’s leg.
Making his choice, Boba stowed away his datapad and unbuckled the kid’s seat belt, carefully lifting the child and settling him on his lap.
“Shhh, ad’ika,” he whispered, gently stroking one ear. “Your buir is sleeping.”
Grogu easily settled down, having gotten what he wanted. Boba wrapped a protective arm around the tiny body, cradling the kid close as he had his fill exploring Boba’s clothing, fiddling with the many zippers, pockets and buttons.
Perhaps it was the “buir instinct” that was often joked about by the mando’ade, but Boba found himself unconsciously smiling as Grogu played with the folds of his clothes, unbothered by the number of times he had to carefully disentangle the kid’s claws when they caught on the fabric.
“Patoo!” Grogu exclaimed softly. He lifted his hands up, straining towards Boba’s face.
Boba bent forward to let Grogu skitter his hands over the buy’ce’s cool surface, heedless of the strain in his neck at the awkward position. After a few gentle pats Grogu frowned, ears dipping down, then tapped the side of the buy’ce insistently.
“Do you want it off?” Boba asked curiously.
Grogu’s ears perked up. “Patoo!”
He tapped the buy’ce once more.
Sneaking a look over at the mando to make sure he hadn’t woken, Boba lowered the tray-table and helped Grogu onto it, making sure he supported the table with his legs. The child was incredibly light, but he’d rather not risk breaking the tray and/or endangering the kid either way.
Grogu watched him eagerly from his perch, and Boba huffed a laugh before pulling off his buy’ce and placing it on the kid’s empty seat.
“Patoo?” the kid whined, ears drooping as he reached for Boba.
“It’s ok, ad’ika,” Boba murmured, bending slightly to let Grogu run his hands over the scars on his face. “It’s ok, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
The child looked at him sadly, tipping his head in silent question.
“It was an accident,” Boba replied, running a finger across the kid’s ear. “My buire and I were freediving in the ocean near our house one evening a year ago. We didn’t see them, but I ended up swimming into a couple of jellyfish.”
“My buire were terrified,” he added quietly. “I nearly died that day.”
Grogu shuffled closer to hug Boba. Running his hand down the kid’s back, for a brief moment, Boba could’ve sworn he felt an almost familiar surge of warmth engulf him.
“Hello sir, is there any food or drink option you would like to have?”
Tensing, Boba pulled away and turned to the flight attendant, an arm wrapped protectively around Grogu. He relaxed slightly when the Twi’lek female smiled down at the child and greeted him softly.
“Do you have any broth for the kid?” he asked when Grogu turned pleading eyes on him.
The attendant briefly consulted her datapad. “Yes, we do have bone broth suitable for your child. Would you like it in a toddler-friendly cup?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The attendant handed over the cup. “Anything for you or your partner, sir?”
Boba choked, quickly disguising it with a cough as the Twi’lek looked at him in concern. “Ah, no. We’re good, thank you.”
As the attendant moved away, Boba could still feel the heat that had rushed to his ears and the back of his neck at the mistaken assumption. Grogu squeaked at him, patting at his chest.
“She thinks your buir is my riduur and you’re my ad,” he told the kid incredulously.
Grogu simply tipped his head and cooed.
“Ok, fair enough, I can see why she might think you’re my ad. But your buir's riduur? I could be a vod.”
The kid merely squirmed forward, attention fixed on the cup Boba held rather than what he was saying. Sighing, Boba helped the child off the tray-table and onto his thighs before handing the cup over. Grogu chirped happily and snuggled into Boba’s stomach, clutching his prize triumphantly.
Boba watched him absently, mind drifting back to the attendant’s words.
He’d never thought about having an ad of his own before, not seriously at least. But as Grogu sipped at the broth, perfectly content to sit on a stranger’s lap, he could slowly paint a picture of a future for himself - one with a tiny green child and an intriguing man with a pure beskar buy’ce.
He shook his head to get rid of the fanciful idea. “Di’kut,” he cursed under his breath. “I really need to get out more.”
A thump of the cup against his chest had him firmly back in reality.
He took the offending item. “Done, Gro’ika?”
Grogu nodded seriously at him. Then to his amusement, a large yawn escaped the tiny body, almost causing the kid to topple over if not for Boba.
“Looks like it’s nap time for someone.”
Grogu yawned once more in agreement. Burrowing himself back in Boba’s arms, he blinked tiredly a few times, and was soon out like a light. Boba tucked the folds of his jacket around the kid and leaned back against the headrest.
It really wasn’t so bad - taking care of an adiik.
The dim light and low drone of the aircraft quickly had Boba feeling the exhaustion of the day. And within minutes, he too unintentionally slipped into sleep.
“Hey,” a low voice called as someone shook his arm. “We’re landing soon.”
Boba’s eyes snapped open, body tense, only to meet the dark T-visor of the mando. A surge of discomfort coursed through him as his bare face was reflected back at him.
Then he remembered the child.
“I-” he spluttered, looking down at the kid who was still fast asleep in his arms. “I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine,” the mando cut him off, the smooth metal of his buy’ce giving no hint of true emotion. “Let him sleep. He’s had trouble doing so the last few days.”
Boba couldn’t help the flush that crept up his neck. Here he was bare-faced (the ugly scars criss-crossing his visage exposed) and cuddling a traditionalist’s child without their express permission, and somehow he was still alive and unharmed.
It was a kriffing miracle. His buir would’ve killed others for less.
Really, the only saving grace of the situation was that his aliit was not there to make fun of his massive misstep, for which he sent a quick thanks to the ka’ra.
Then he hastily grabbed his buy’ce off the seat between them and shoved it on. And just in time too, because the flight attendants were making their landing rounds.
“Good morning sirs,” greeted the same flight attendant from before. “Could you please have your child seated with their seatbelt fastened? We will be landing soon.”
Boba’s face was on fire under his buy’ce. He was already in deep enough osik with the mando, and now the attendant’s misunderstanding was putting him in an even worse spot!
He opened his mouth to hastily correct the attendant when the mando spoke.
“We understand. Thank you.”
Boba’s jaw dropped. As the attendant went down the other rows, he numbly placed Grogu back in his seat and watched as the mando carefully fastened his kid’s seat belt.
Mando was definitely one of the strangest traditionalists he’d ever met.
“Sorry,” he finally spoke. “About the attendant, she-”
“I know. I was awake,” replied Mando. “Since Grogu started trying to get your attention.”
“Oh he was no trou- Wait. You were awake the whole time?”
Mando huffed a laugh, a warm sound that not even the vocoder could completely disguise.
“He’s fond of you. It’s… unusual,” the mando said slowly. “He generally doesn’t like others very much.”
“I see,” Boba replied faintly.
They remained in silence as the aircraft landed and everyone around them began to disembark. Boba stood as the mando unbuckled his and Grogu’s seat belts.
“Do you have a carry-on?” he asked, pulling out his own bag to sling over his shoulder.
“Elek,” said the mando. “Same compartment.”
Boba nodded and pulled out the only other bag as Mando picked up his child. When the other reached out to take the bag, Boba shook his head. “It’s fine, I can take it.”
“You have an ad,” he added when it seemed like the mando would argue.
That seemed enough to convince the mando, and the two began the long process of going through customs and collecting their luggage.
By the time they finally exited the arrival hall, Grogu was wide-awake and happily cooing at all the new sights and sounds, eagerly pointing things out to both the mando and Boba. They came to a halt right outside the taxi stand.
The mando handed the silver ball to Grogu, and the child quietened, content to play with the item.
“Vor entye, Boba Fett,” he finally said.
Boba immediately shook his head. “There is no debt between us. Children are the future.”
“This is the Way,” replied the mando quietly.
They stood in silence for a moment longer.
“Do you have a place to go?” Boba asked. “Because, you could come over for a while if you want. My buire love kids, and-”
Grogu startled as a taxi sped by, dropping the metal ball with an upset squeak, which then bounced onto the road.
“Grogu,” the mando began, when the child lifted his tiny hand and the ball zipped back into it.
Boba inhaled sharply. “A Force-user.”
Beside him, the mando went still, a predatorial calm that sent klaxon sirens ringing through Boba’s head.
“Udseii, Mando,” he said evenly, making sure to keep his posture calm and unthreatening. “I will not harm you or your ad.”
At his side, the edge of a blade threatened to slice into him. “You’re not the first nor the last to say that.”
“Haat, ijaa, haa'it!” Boba swore readily. “My buir and some of my vod are jetiise, Mando. I promise you, neither my aliit nor I will harm you or your ad.”
At that, the mando finally relaxed. For the first time, Boba could see the exhaustion that threatened to swallow the other whole, and he found himself instinctively reaching forward to steady the man.
“Your buir, could you- could you take me to them?” the mando asked. “I was told to find a Jedi. I- I can’t- The child, he’s not safe. There are people hunting him.”
Grogu whined, sensing his buir’s distress. Boba’s heart, already firmly in the kid’s grasp, ached as the mando tried to sooth the child.
“Yes,” he answered. “Yes, I can take you to him. You both will be safe with us.”
The Best and The Worst Luke Skywalker content ever
Luke Skywalker in The Mandalorian but it’s Toxic by Britney Spears
Finally some good fucking romance representation
We have reached a point where the HEIGHT of romance is NO LONGER sacrificing yourself and your partner through unescessary pain and grief, hell and back. INSTEAD, it is the pain of Waking and caring for small children and getting them into SCHOOL clothes and COOKING breakfast as the sun shines over your sleepy eyes and your PARTNER waddling into the kitchen in your t-shirt and unwashed yesterday's boxers. THEY makes coffee and you serve them waffles AND toast. ROMANCE IS NOW MIDDLE AGED PEOPLE IN LOVE cuddling on a blanketed picnic bench in the backyard with too many sunflowers and too many bees but the NOISE HELPS YOUR PARTNER GO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT. SAY GOODBYE TO GRIEF AND SORROW SAY HELLO AND WELCOME QUIET WEDDINGS AND THERAPY AND CONTENTMENT. WE HAVE SUCCESSFULLY MANAGED TO ROMANTICIZE COMFORT AND REST. WE DID IT FOLKS.
YES
I didn't even notice until op said it!
When I was watching that one scene in Avengers it felt so gross, I was immediately disgusted and had such a strong urge to turn it off and forgetforgetforget and pretend I didn't see anything. I guess it worked cause op made me remember it, but if I was asked out of nowhere what the worst show off feminism have you ever seen in cinema I wouldn't be able to tell. The Trauma. Ugh.
Anyway, again, I didn't really see that as something exceptional. It felt so normal and natural to me.
Usually I do pick up on BAD performance and all this bullshit female characters just for check. They don't have a story. They feel empty and unnecessary. The only quality that is important for the story with them is their sex/gender. Or there is nothing important for the story at all.
The point is the Mandalorian did a great job. Its female characters never felt bad like that. That fight included. The performance was good as expected. Therefore it never clicked as something special in modern social media. WHILE IT CERTAINLY IS. It is special!
Because right off the bat I can only remember Hannibal was such quality female writing where the were just right. Tbc it also depends on shows writing and perfomance level in general, so there are some more, but imho they are written less great in general.
And the amount of good female writing is truly saddening yet the good news are it grows! With time there is and will be even more great stuff!!
Non-performative inclusion and “The Mandalorian”
This post contains minor spoilers. Proceed with caution.
In the season two finale of “The Mandalorian” there is a scene near the beginning of the episode in which a strike team (minus Mando himself) storms onto an Imperial ship, blasts stormtroopers, etc. It’s an extended action sequence. Two of the characters are helmeted.
I was well into the scene before it hit me that all four of the characters on this strike team were women.
The fact that there was this all-female action team wasn’t new. I’ve seen that before. What was new about it was that this was the first time I’d seen a team of women that didn’t feel performative.
Remember that scene in “Avengers: Endgame”, the “she’s not alone” scene where All The Lady Characters Assembled, and you could tell the filmmakers were getting some kind of weird boner of “looooook at how many Strong Female Characters we have, let’s put them all together and have them be Strong Female Characters at the same time” and it felt super gross? That was performative.
I’ve heard and used that term before but I’m not sure I really grokked what it meant until I saw what its absence looked like, in “The Mandalorian.”
It didn’t feel performative because each of those characters had been part of the narrative in their own time over the previous two seasons, with their own agencies and backstories. They were characters in the story as it needed to be told, they weren’t Strong Female Characters introduced for the purpose of being that (in a sexy way, of course). There was never a sense of ticking off the “kickass lady character” boxes. When Cara Dune is introduced, or Fennec Shand, or Bo-Katan, there was never that subtext of “Okay here is our Lady Character, isn’t she such a great Lady Character, look look we’re Doing the Thing you want us to do with having Womens in our Boy Stuff.”
No. It was, here’s a Rebel soldier. Here’s an assassin. Here’s a Mandalorian exile. Here’s a Jedi. Here’s a magistrate. They have functions to perform and stories to tell in this narrative. Those functions and stories happen while these characters are women, not because they are women.
And it’s so, so subtle, the difference. It’s hard to put your finger on how it’s usually done wrong until you see it done right. It’s not just the writing although that’s a big part of it. It’s in how they were filmed, framed, shot, costumed, and lit. It’s in how they were directed, how the camera treated them - i.e. no differently than the male characters. None of these women were sexified, either. Not that they weren’t being portrayed by attractive women, but that wasn’t remotely played up or displayed in how they were styled, costumed, and made up.
Unfortunately now that we’ve all seen how non-performative inclusion of women into a narrative can be done right, everything else is going to seem that much more insufferable.
MOOD.
I wholeheartedly agree with that one. No way Luke would wear things like that intentionally. I mean that man has a true pure boy energy (and actually is one, which is sad cause life does not do exceptions and look what it did to him). And he grew up on a freaking dust ball of a planet where peak fashion you see is hutts slaves wardrobe choices!
Yes, he is a Skywalker, and we all know that Skywalkers are always about the Drama (TM) and meaningful looks (even if it's cinemas fault). Which Luke certainly shares. And yes, jedis in general have their own culture and style.
So far the worst we've seen were Darth Vader and Kylo Ren. Cause they need to be intimidating and make people aware who is the Bad Guy around here. Next comes Leia with her political career. She must be aware of her appearance. And only then comes Luke with his simple Jedi look with some meaning behind it. Only in color btw. And that's it. The worst we've seen him was Dramatically (TM) taking off his hood.
So yes, I believe Luke is a true Skywalker, therefore a true Drama Queen, but more in action department than fashion one.
Leia and Luke are too practical to actually participate in real FASHHHHHION. But they both can and will do styles cause they know the power of proper look. It may as well be Force related thing cause they know what effect it causes.
ANYWAY, all of it does not necessarily make Luke do NOT wear Chanel Boots.I present you the idea of him wearing them ACCIDENTALLY!
Just like he ended up running around in that yellow jacket. What if he has on idea what are those clothes cause he was given them at some point and was like, oh they feet and are quite comfy to wear and fight in, thank you very much I will certainly wear them! And next time he strides in some Leias politician party/snake nest and everyone goes OH SHIT internally. Because Channel boots are what they are and they make Luke look really nice and he still a jedi and a pure boy with a power to crush you. So. While Luke definitely has no real understanding why people around him react like this, but they do and it helps him help Leia so why not.
The only culprit behind this disaster must be Han, who will laugh right until Leia comes down at him, but won't stop gifting Luke discreet fashion shit. And Luke will certainly find out at some point and OH WOW that explains everything. He will either have no care in the world or make Han stop cause it ruins his reputation as a jedi and teacher.
So yeah. I once again stress it that Luke is not that kind of human, who will care about fashion. As a crack this headcanon is fine, otherwise it is not.
Yes, Luke how I see him is a Little Shit. Is a Drama Queen because of it. He may be ace or gay or whatever. But he is not a sucker for fashion. Just. Not.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk, bye
“why do you still use tumblr?”
listen— i have to keep track of my hyper fixations somehow
Sometimes people expect that you are alright and they might think that you have it all together. Most of the time though, those assumptions are incorrect. There are things that they will never see and battles that they will never know that you are going through. Sometimes it's scary because you want someone to shout out to you and ask if you are ok. Someone to follow that little prompting from above to help you out, but they never do. They look at you like they don't care and they don't care because they have the assumption that you are alright. Like an assumption that you might be too good for them because they are going through something too... It's hard to ask for help sometimes... It's hard because they all assume and because you feel like you would be too much of a burden on them. Or you think that they are going to judge you because they might think that you are just trying to seek attention. It's hard to get help because it is scary and you feel like you don't need help....
This is what anxiety feels like to many, or at least what I feel like when I have anxiety. I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression and OCD on my mission for my church. Before I was diagnosed with these disorders, I always had a constant wave of insecurity, doubt, trouble believing in myself, and other things included that plagued. When I graduated from high school, I was sure that I would fall into a state of Schizophrenia by age 22 to 23(I haven't). When I was on my mission, I finally had the opportunity to look at things that could help me. I took those options because it came to the very end of the line, where one day I just wanted to end my life. The thoughts became too overbearing and I felt like if I just went away, sitting in the bath at the time, that everybody would be better off without me and my contributions. I never fully went through with it though because I just loved my life too much and the work I was doing at the time to end it all. I told my companion and my mission leader's wife and they helped me to get the help I needed. I am so happy that they were able to help me and that I was able to, through that see the light again. Though that was a very high point in my life, even with the help and the pills, I still get some of these thoughts sometimes. Even just two or three days without the pills because I didn't have my next precription in time, the effects are scary. I cry for no reason, things hurt more than they should, and I just feel a feeling of helplessness and like I can't do it anymore.
The reason why I guess I am writing this is to partly get things out and partly is to probably raise awareness that I am not the only one. When people joke about having anxiety, I understand that it is a joke, but they will never know what it is really like, unless they actually do have anxiety. Statistics from adaa.org have shown that at least a percentage of 18.1% of the population is diagnosed with anxiety, which is 40 million adults over the age of 18 alone.(ADAA.org) Imagine how many more people are diagnosed with anxiety and how many more kids could be diagnosed. Hypothetically speaking, that could be every two kids to one adult, but that may be wrong. According to SAMHSA's webpage, there has been a 27% increase in their phone calls from 2019 to 2020(numbers may have gone up since then. In 2019, SAMHSA had a high of 656,953 calls for the year. This number grew to be 833,598 calls in 2020.(SAMHSA) For more statistics and facts, go to www.adaa.org or www.samhsa.gov. This is only half of it.
ADAA has also pointed out that people diagnosed with Anxiety have also had Depression previous to this.(ADAA) The CDC states that those with an anxiety or depression disorder have has increased from 36.1% to 41.5% between August 2020 to February 2021.(CDC) Those with an OCD disorder are about every 1 in 40 adults, according to singlecare.com.(SINGLE CARE)
There are many people out there, who are suffering and are trying every day to hide it, just like I was. There are many out there who do not know that they have even have these disorders. Now that I have read through this, I want to bring awareness to these people. I want to help give them a voice. I want to because I am one of them. I know what it is like to struggle and what it is like to feel those feelings of discontent, sadness, and despair. These people can't be told to just stop and think more positive. These diseases are real and they are very riveting to every person who is diagnosed with them. Just like Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, an apostle of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has said" ...Today, I am speaking of something more serious. Of an affliction so severe, that it significantly restricts a person's ability to function fully. A crater in the mind, so deep that no one can responsibly suggest that it would surely go away if those victims would just square their shoulders and think more positively."(LIKE A BROKEN VESSEL) Though he was talking about MDD(Major Depressive Disorder), this could be applied to what has been said before.
I want all who are going through this to know that they are not alone and that there are many, just like them. Do not be ashamed of what you have as a mental disorder, now speaking collectively to all disorders and not individually. You are not weird and you are not some freak who doesn't fit in. Don't worry, I once thought that too. It is ok to feel what you feel and it is ok to address and talk about it. You do not have to suffer alone. If you are struggling, please talk to someone who you feel comfortable talking to and get the help that you need, what ever it may be. My Chat is always open and though it may take me some time, I will answer back. Let's all come together and share our stories of our disorders and help help strengthen one another and to help us not feel alone.
You are amazing. You are worth it. You are loved. You are you. You may have a disorder, but do not let that define you. You are you.
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Sources:
Single Care
https://www.singlecare.com/blog/news/ocd-statistics/
ADAA
https://adaa.org/understanding-anxiety/facts-statistics
CDC
https://www.cdc.gov/mmwr/volumes/70/wr/mm7013e2.htm
Like A Broken Vessel by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNAx2Rgq-uI
SAMHSA HELPLINE
https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline
I love to draw bc I can do this and it will be okay
FOR REAL its been proven lol
mandalorians too
today is the best day ever im gonna wear my grogu pjs to school, im making gingerbread houses, and i get to go see moana 2 !!
It was high time I gave these two some more love, tho the designs have changed a little since I drew this
I want what they have, in fact I'd like to be Tranyc, without the whole being almost burned alive part