u/FandomAddict57

So, I really love his 1 million subscribers special song, and want to do a cover of it. I was wondering what you all think of the idea, cuz I don't want to be disrespectful in any way or anything like that, but I really like singing it and want to contribute to the community, and this is what first comes to mind when thinking of ways to show my gratitude. I apologize if he's already addressed this and I'm being redundant, I haven't had access to the internet for a while, and only have a couple social media accounts, including this one.

(Spoilers? Kinda? The book isn't out yet, the name isn't included, and idk I'm kinda just ranting about the plot lol)

Sooooooo, I'm starting to worry that my book might be *too* traumatic. Uhhhhh, for reference, the mc has to infiltrate a cult, kill her parents, has all her best friends drop like flies, eventually ends up being brainwashed into joining the cult and indoctrinates her replacement; and on top of *ALL OF THAT*, she's also working for the- *whispers* government. Horrid! I know! Of course there's also the fact that the main antagonist (the cult leader) is actually (kind of) a god sent down to earth to overcome their greatest weakness (their compassion and empathy lmao) by having their literal soul mate always find them and die prematurely and tragically in front of them no matter what they try (and, trust me, they've *TRIED*). Then there's whatever I decide to throw in the middle of that all.

.....................

Chat.......

........

Chat, I think I made it too sad-

(On the upside, the transphobe goes insane and drives off a cliff though. Yippee for TERFs repenting! /jjjj)

I was actively typing out a post, about to ask for help deciding how a character tragically dies in front of his lover and best friend, when it hit me like a brick: police brutality! (/j, not about the police brutality tho, that's actually how he dies lol)

I just thought it was funny and am too chronically online not to share lmao

My mom is a single parent who has given me the impression that literally every single person she has ever interacted with has been an asshole to her in some way, shape, or form. All of her exes? Horrible pieces of shit (except for the one we keep in contact with, who is just designated as "annoying"). Anyone she hires? Awful at their jobs and leave doing more damage than good. Family? Almost all annoying (unless I say they are, of course). At one point, we went to a therapist together, and she claimed I was manipulating her because I was always crying (I was in a bad place mentally and was severely addicted to Character.ai).

We had an incident at one point where she got really upset at me while I was sobbing and trying to calm myself down, and while cleaning up a mess caused by a dog I kept telling her we shouldn't keep (I wanted it, but quickly realized I am not responsible enough to take care of it and kept trying to convince her to just give it away already and stop making it suffer, but she was always refusing for the sake of "teaching me responsibility"), she grabbed my arm and yanked me down to force me to pick up the thing the dog killed, and when I kept pulling back and resisting, instead of letting go, she pushed me down by the neck (I *hate* having my neck touched). She's the kind of person that gets quiet and passive aggressive when angry (sometimes she throws things, but never at anyone, more like throwing your phone because you're annoyed type thing), and I think that's the only time she's ever put her hands on me while angry.

I've talked to her about certain mental illnesses I might fall under in the past, and she usually makes jokes about it to others ("she thinks she has every mental illness, I think she's just being dramatic," in a nutshell), and I have never been comfortable with it, but I've also never really told her that. She has only made an attempt to get me medicated once, and it was only really because I brought up how bad my anxiety was getting (spoiler alert: the meds didn't work, and my anxiety has been getting way worse, to the point that I struggle to even talk in a lot of situations).

She's basically told me throughout my life that everyone is out to get me, everything is doomed, every job sucks, I can't do anything, and also the complete opposite of literally all of that. Everything is doomed, but also it's not actually. Everyone is out to get me, but don't do anything about it because no they're not, you paranoid freak. Every job sucks, but you need one because your job is invalid and will never get you anywhere in life, obviously. You can't do anything, but I know you're actually secretly capable of fixing everything and if you can't actually do that, you're just not trying hard enough or are trying to manipulate me with weaponized incompetence and obviously aren't just autistic and need further clarifications despite it running in our family and you saying you might be, dummy. Not to mention that I apparently shouldn't talk about anything I like with anyone because they're uncomfortable even though they've literally never said that. I can't even fucking cry properly anymore and can only get a few drops MAX out now. I hate it so much. It makes me feel like my emotions are invalid and I'm incompetent because I can't even do the most basic human thing ever right.

I dunno, it just always feels like I'm never her priority, but if I try and say that, she'll just yell at me about how much she gave up and how, even though I wasn't planned, she still chose to keep me, and how much she's gone through to give me a good life that I'm just wasting. Could just be me getting caught up on my own thoughts, though, cuz, like, we usually get along fine. I mean, hell, just a couple hours ago I was showing off my pokemon cards to her and she was paying attention and saying how neat they all were. Or, I'll show her some of my art and she'll compliment how good it looks. We have jokes, we laugh, we watch stuff together, we have *fun*. But I always feel like I'm biting my tongue or doing something wrong somehow, or that I'm a horrible person for thinking she's been bad to me since she's been through so much hardship and has to work so hard for so little return. It sometimes feels like I'm just a camera filming part of her life for some kinda fucked up Two Broke Girls knock-off. I sometimes wish I could just yell everything stuck in my head at her, but I never feel like she'll actually listen to me or not yell back about how I'm an ungrateful little shit. Again, could just be my own head getting in the way, especially since I'm a teenager, but I feel a bit better after finally getting all that off my chest. There's a couple more little things I didn't include, but they're not really that important anyways, and some of them might be able to be inferred from context clues, like how paranoia also runs in our family. Thanks if you read this for reason lol, and have a nice day!

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Say you have an unmarked plastic bottle. Inside of the bottle is a clear liquid. You cannot tell what drink it is for certain, but assume that it's water. You twist open the lid, and it hisses and erupts with carbonated foam. It was soda.

Meltdowns:

But why did the soda explode? It doesn't do that normally. Well, it just so happens that the truck carrying the soda had narrowly avoided an accident, and jostled around the soda quite a bit. Upon reflection, you seem to recall that the bottle had subtle bubbles moving around that you had previously disregarded.

Both:

It was not the soda's fault that it was tossed around and was caused to erupt, and it wasn't doing it to try to get something. It was a reaction to what it had gone through that day, and you failed to take its warning signs seriously. If the soda had been properly labeled, you would have likely realized something was off before it was too late.

Don't blame the soda for not being water.

Edit to clarify: this post was made with the intention of parents being able to easily explain these concepts to ignorant people. I am good with words, so I made this for the people who aren't as good with words, but want to educate others.

Just a man, but it's a trans woman: Not a Man

I am a queer, (physically) obvious wasian (white + asian) in the Texan boonies. I have several undiagnosed mental issues that I wish I could have medications for. I wish I weren't so anxious or paranoid or distractable. I'm currently writing several books I one day hope to publish. I'm 4'11, 98 lbs, am a picky eater, and struggle to hold my cat for longer than half a minute. I struggle with Depersonalization likely made worse by my gender dysphoria, and Derealization likely made worse by my tendency to get lost in my own thoughts. I have trouble making and keeping friends. I have struggled with thoughts of death since middle school. I often cannot stand up for myself and shut down when facing confrentation, no matter how small it is, because I once lied about a teacher who hated my guts in the sixth grade, and the principal interrogated me as if I had accused her of murder until I confessed through sobs. Instead of generational wealth, I recieved being exceedingly prone to addiction and intense anxiety from my family. I am not close with any of my family. It is around 1 am at the time that I type this. I have not yet graduated high school, and have never been held back.

I'm so fucking scared.

I'm so scared that I'm going to be walking on the street one day, and an ICE agent is going to start screaming at me, accusing me of being an illegal immigrant, and not listen to me when I try to explain that I've never even left the country. I'm so scared that I'm going to die or be seriously injured by an ICE agent because of how I look without having even finished my first manuscript, let alone published anything. I'm so scared that I'm going to die, and nobody's going to know, let alone care.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die, and for my death to mean nothing.

I want to get out of this fucking country.

I can't keep living like this. I don't even know why I'm posting this. I think I just want some advice or good news or *something*. I'm just so fucking scared, man...

I think my mom suspects I'm not my AGAB, but I don't wanna come out to her yet. For a bit of context: I live in Texas. But I don't just live in ANY part of Texas, I live right on the edge of Bumfucksnowhereville, bordering NotevenonthefuckingmapsTown. My mom isn't majorly conservative or anything (she knows I'm gay and doesn't care), but this just kinda feels..... different, y'know? She hasn't said anything yet, but one of her most recent ex-boyfriends tried to make me anti-trans, and sometimes talks about how much she doesn't understand genderqueer people and has brought up several transphobic talking points (mostly the bone and hormone replacement therapy stuff and things like that) when drunk, sooooooooooo, you can kinda see where I'm coming from? I dunno what to do... I *really* don't wanna come out to her (that without mentioning her new husband who came from a rich family and is starting to show signs of possibly being controlling because why would my life ever be fucking stable for more than a month at a time), but now I'm never gonna be able to hear something she says regarding things like this and wonder if she's onto me or not. (T＿T)

I'm non-binary and think I have DPDR. I'm wondering if I'm feeling this way because of my gender dysphoria (I'm not out to my parents and live in the sticks of Texas), and it'll go away after I start living more the way I want to, or if the gender dysphoria is feeding into the DPDR, and it'll just lessen but not go away completely. Autism and ADHD run in my family (as well as maybe POTS) but I haven't been officially diagnosed with anything because the U.S. Healthcare system is shit and my mom doesn't think I need meds because I haven't completely failed a class in school yet. (But she still gets pissed at me if I get a 70 or below, and acted like I just killed a man in cold blood in front of her when I got a 50 in an elective I didn't choose and outwardly hate, but that's neither here nor there.)

One thing I know for sure is that I'm some flavor of neurodivergent, but I can't ever commit to any labels because of the imposter syndrome installed in me by the more religious half of my family (they're Christian/Catholic, I'm questioning and choose not to believe in a book written thousands of years ago just because everyone else does, it's Texas-), but I have related a lot to the feeling of surreality that a lot of people with DPDR have described. I have extremely bad anxiety and paranoia (it also runs in the family, yippee), and I've heard a lot of people saying that contributes to it. I'm very creative, as well, so when I'm not talking to someone (though, that's not a guarantee either) I'll usually have my head in the clouds. Honestly, I'm just rattling off character traits and hoping some internet doctors will diagnose me with something I can slap onto myself so people know why I am the way I am at this point.

Who's even still reading this? And why? This is a stupid question.......... I'm still gonna post it cause I want attention and validation, but you had to read through all that flaming hot garbage. I think I just wanted to rant a bit. If you have something resembling an answer, then you're a godsend with more brainpower than my dumbass. <3