what i hope yall mean when you say “protect people with ugly symptoms”: protect/support people who have meltdowns, people who pick at skin, people who are anti social, people who have hallucinations, etc

what some of yall actually mean: protect people who are abusive, manipulative and stalkers. protect people who constantly use their mental illness as a shield to avoid facing consequences for their behavior. support people who are anti recovery and refuse to better themselves.

blogging for reminding me to breathe. I owe you so, so much this week. Thank you, for everything, for existing. ♡

Hey there, Nonnie. I am so sorry that this week has been such a hard one. You don’t deserve to be wrung out that way, from so many directions at once. You’re amazing. You’re through that terrible week now, and I am so SO proud of you.

May the next week be a better one. Sending you all my love. I hope you are able to take the time to find a scrap of calm for yourself, to centre and breathe.

you are an inspiration. not only as a writer but also as someone who deals with mental illness. thank you so much for just doing you <3

*hugs* thank you, Nonnie. On not-so-great days (and weeks) I do try to remember that I’m pretty damned good at being me, and that it’s not such a bad thing. 🙂

Hope you know it too, lovely Nonnie. You’re the best you there is, and you rock at it.

Greetings. I am the one who asked how you know about Hobbit and so on.I am sorry for your lost and am glad that you are strong as steel and carry on with a good life and a family. I have to tell you I feel loved by reading your story. I am sure you are doing the right thing. Fighting!

Awww, thank you Nonnie. That’s very kind of you. Thank you.

I’m all good, honestly. It was many years ago, and much of the sadness has faded. I remember and honour my uncle with a lot of love and pride. He’s always a part of my life. He’d want me to live it to the best of my ability (and he’d be stoked that I am constantly surrounded by happy nerdery).

I am overwhelmingly glad you feel loved by reading my story, Nonnie, that is one of the most truly beautiful things anyone has ever said to me about my writing.

Don’t know if anyone asked but how did you come across with Lord of the rings and other works? Did you watch movies first or the opposite?

Oh, this is a bit of a tale, and it is a bit sad. so a warning in advance, Nonnie.

When I was in Year 3 (I was 7), my class read ‘The Hobbit’. I’d read it before, but something about having it read aloud to us set my imagnation ON FIRE. I went BONKERS. I made a Gollum puppet in Art, even (mum still has it). I drew dragons on EVERYTHING, and generally raved on about it to my whole family, and they indugently smiled and nodded and left me (the nerdy, bookish one) to my nascent literary fangirling.

Not so my uncle Puss.

My Uncle Puss was my mum’s brother, and a very intelligent, shy, gentle man. He barely knew what to do with my sister and I, because we were loud and dramatic and theatrical as kids, and he would retreat a lot. But me ranting about The Hobbit drew his immediate and undivided attention, and it was like opening a door into a whole new person. It was Uncle Puss who told me that there was a sequel, and that it was MASSIVE. And that after that, there were whole languages, and a mythology, and so much more!

Tiny me: THERE’S A WHAT???? OH MY GOD, GIMME.

My Uncle Puss was, in other words, a fellow nerd. And I didn’t know until that moment. It became a thing we shared, this world we loved, and the rest of our family teased us about our nerdery. This awkward shy man and this awkward dramatic little girl, enthusiastically shouting together about Elves and Hobbits and Dwarves.

(He ALSO introduced me to Star Trek TOS.)

He gave me my first copy of LOTR. It was his own, actually, and I treasure it still. I have other copies now, some very pretty and fancy, but his was the first and most special. He gave me all of HOME for my birthday, a volume each year. I am holding his copy of the Silmarillion in my hand. It has his name on the inner cover.

Uncle Puss was not a well man. He was bipolar and schizophrenic, and disappeared about fifteen years ago – just before the films came out, actually. He’s presumed dead now. I miss him still.

So yeah, it is the books first, for me. Always the books first.

semper-draca:

poplitealqueen:

Fake it ‘til you make it is honestly some of the best advice I’ve ever been given in terms of mental illness.

It’s one thing to feel in your bones that you’re an absolute failure that doesn’t deserve life or love and acting like it, and a whole different thing to not.

For one, telling yourself one morning “I’m gonna pretend to be happy today” or “I’m gonna pretend to be proud of myself today” will almost always end with you having a pretty decent day. (Doesn’t last longer than a day, believe you me, and one small bad thing can shatter that illusion like a cement block through glass)

Second, it starts to trick your brain into thinking certain ways. Usually. Just like you can keep telling yourself you don’t matter until you believe it, you can keep telling yourself you matter until you believe it.

And if you don’t? If you honest to god think you don’t matter, that your life and what you do has no meaning in this world, well, what’s the harm in acting like it does to others? Best case, you convince them that you’re some self-confident godbeing. Worst case (but also funniest case), you convince them to despise you for being so proud of yourself, never knowing that you in fact can’t stand yourself as much as they do.

Fake it til you make it, dudes. Be a hotshot in your own head if you gotta. Reblog your stuff ten billion times and scream like a little kid when the smallest of good things happen. Makes the black dog in your head cower and back off. Be confident even if you don’t believe it.

Honestly this is the best advice ever. About a year ago, I decided to just fake self confidence really really hard, and the results? People started to assume I was more confident and outgoing (in particular my boss but also my parents), things became easier to do because fake-confident-me wouldn’t have a hard time doing anything. It doesn’t work all the time, but seriously this helps.

In particular, I hated how I looked. I despised my appearance, I’d never take a selfie, I’d avoid mirrors, wear a full face of makeup every day, wear boring clothes that would fade into the background, which of course all came back to thinking I wasn’t worthwhile. Fake-confident-me wouldn’t have any of that. Sure, I still do some of those things, like wear makeup all the time, and there are still moments where I can’t stand my body. But man oh man, fake-confident-me has made being real-me a hell of a lot easier.

I’ve met people that I last saw years ago and often times I’ll get comments like ‘you’re so different’ or ‘you look so much better’ and I will always tell them to fake it tell they make it. Fake it guys. Fake it so goddamn hard that it slowly becomes real

Am I allowed to say that, as someone with depression, I’m really proud of and inspired by what you’ve accomplished, not just with Sansûkh?

You are beautiful.

Thank you. Thank you so so much.

That guest reviewer could have saved themself time by just writing “I hate mentally ill people who don’t fit into my cutesy idea of mental illness”, it gets their point across and is much shorter

truth dot com, Nonnie.

(extended Director’s cut) ”I don’t like it when you headsick types make your own decisions about what to like and what to do and who to identify with. I don’t like it when you use your experiences and your lives in the story you provide for free: They’re too messy and difficult and “boring” for me to handle. Don’t you know that it’s your fault that I hate you??? You should cater to me instead of writing the story you need. Do as I say, I know best. You’re too incapable to know your own life well enough to represent yourself. I’ll continue harassing and concern-trolling you until you do what I want.”

Yeah, much more accurate and far more pithy 😛

Okay so I know you’re getting a ton of these but I realized I have PTSD not long before I started Sansukh for the first time and I am a ‘bad’ PTSD-haver because it manifests as these bursts of rage and destruction followed by total withdrawal and numbness rather than the standard victim behavior, and your Thorin helped me come to terms with that so much. Thank you. Sansukh means the world to me. Thank you for giving me the chance to be at ease with myself. Thank you.

Oh, Non. *hugs* No. Thank you.

I worked out my explosive anger last night, by writing that prose piece. So I’ve been pretty mellow and calm ever since.

What I’ve taken away from the last day, though? Is that there are a lot of people who aren’t into being told what we ‘should’ do in order to be acceptable and good little model mentally ill people. I’m getting a lot of messages. Dozens and dozens, actually. There are a LOT.

So many people are telling me that it matters that i wrote him like me, like this. Like us. And that has actually brought me to tears, when the original witless anon hate didn’t even come CLOSE: it just made my temper snap. It didn’t touch me in my soul.

Apparently there are a lot of people like you and me and Sansukh’s Thorin, Nonnie.

I’m so glad. I’m so so glad. That this thing I wrote has actually meant something to you, and to others. I’m so so glad it has helped. God knows we can use a little help now and then. That I did something good helps me, and humbles me and makes me just SO grateful. Thank you for your support and for sharing with me this very personal thing. We’re not alone, it seems. *hugs*

(1/2) I sent an ask earlier, but it was too long… pesky charac limit. Anyway, I can’t believe you have to deal with ignorant, banal nonsense like that review. I Love Sansukh. Not just bc I too live with depression (the air sucking, anhedonic kind)

(2/2) but b/c of how u somehow managed to ALCHEMIZE an already masterpiece into such funny, devastating, utterly sweet, and stunningly inclusive writing I’ve recently had the pleasure of reading. Keep on keepin’ on lovely. Show ‘em how it’s done <3.

oh guh. Reading this was like a soft, loving punch to my chest. Oh my god. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I will. I’ll keep on keeping on. I won’t let anyone tell me that my words and experience aren’t worth reading. And I’ll keep smiling and I will finish this, and I will not let this jealous catty ableist bullshit stop me.

Thank you for the beautiful kind words, Nonnie. I am so SO grateful for the support.