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How Much of Life is Lost in Waiting?

@starryaperture / starryaperture.tumblr.com

Max||(F)Trans.||She/Her. TERFS and lgbtq+ phobes DNI. Current shifts: Sunny Suzuki (Omori), Chie Satonaka (Persona 4).

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

"What were you like before taking the meds tho"

Two weeks ago I was posting about eating cake frosting for dinner.

I feel like it's worth mentioning that being on The Wrong Meds can indeed do the 90s movie thing to you.

Like, if you go on meds and that happens, it's not because whatever's going on with you is jut Too Severe or that you're doomed or only people with Other Illnesses get to have meds that make them feel actually good and you have to settle for "miserable but somehow so hollow I no longer care about the misery" and be grateful you're no longer actively suicidal or whatever.

If that shit happens to you, tell your fucking doctor. And if your doctor doesn't take you seriously, or acts like That's Just How Being On Meds Is, ditch them! Find a new doctor!! Because that is NOT how being on meds is supposed to work! That means the meds are not working correctly!!

Reblogging to agree and say that what was happening to me was (and to an extent still is) severe and was the result of manifold health problems and has taken the better part of a year to effectively treat. I did not expect medication to be this effective. But it is. So if you think that you are untreatable, get a second opinion.

there is a single pill i can take to immediately live a day as the best version of myself-- not a superhero, not a perfect genius, but a good dude who can read and write and do the dishes. im optimistic and coherent and can plan for the future. i write novels and walk the dog and remember to shower and brush my teeth.

if i don't take this pill i spend the day as a dirty, inept husk, a sad sack of well-meaning but futile intentions just sapient enough to be dimly aware of everything im unable to be.

this pill is incredibly difficult to obtain a steady monthly supply of because when normal people take it they have a little more fun at parties.

Counterpoint: At least if I spend the remainder of my natural life as a dirty, inept husk, a sad sack of well-meaning but futile intentions just sapient enough to be dimly aware of everything I'm unable to be... at least I'll know I'm me, not a fake version of myself created by medication. Nor do I have to worry about regressing if I run out, the repeat prescription doesn't come in time etc.

Not dissing OP's choice to take advantage of the meds, but they're not for me.

Hey, so, this is kind of the attitude that made me afraid to take meds that I really benefit from: the idea that who you are on medication is somehow "not really you."

The person I was when I was very depressed did not feel like the real me. That was a version of me that was very ill. The "real me" is the me that is able to dance at stoplights and make art and enjoy food and laugh at jokes. And for now, I need pharmaceutical help to get back there.

The assistance that medication provides doesn't make me any less The Real Me than wearing glasses or taking painkillers. Depression is a physical illness. If you try medication and you don't like the way it makes you feel, then it's not a good medication for you. But you do get to choose, and I'm glad I have the opportunity to choose to actually be myself again.

Kill the idea that suffering is somehow authentic and worthy, and take the fucking drugs. I lost years of my life to this kind of thinking and I have nothing to show for it other than a handful of embarrassing memories and a house full of clutter I don’t want or need. There’s at least five regularly used different classes of antidepressants! And about four more specifically for anxiety! They’re all acting on your brain in different ways and you will have different reactions to each of them! Don’t give up and accept misery because you’ve mistakenly believed the misery is your real personality!

It's been a year since I went on medication for PTSD and major depressive disorder. I can sleep again. I can taste food and I can cook. I can go back to work. My blood work is no longer dangerously abnormal. I've gained back the 16% of my body weight that I lost. I'm gonna be in a play this spring.

Look at all the things I did in 2025 and that I plan to do in 2026. Never kill yourself.

For some reason it seems like every time I mention that closeted queer people exist and to strangers may appear functionally identical to cis and straight people and thus we need to be cognizant of that in order to foster a world in which these closeted people feel safe coming out always seems to result in people going "brrbrr won't anyone think of the poor cishets" at me.

Like. I actually am not talking about the cishets here, I'm talking about actually queer people who do not feel safe to come out and why that might be so that we can fix that problem and find a way to allow them to live their truth and peace and happiness as themselves. I actually don't care about the cishet people who won't feel any of these effects, I care a lot more about the rest of my community who are too afraid of the consequences to live as they've been longing to because things like being disowned by your family and being hatecrimed by your neighbors are still things that happen to queers across the globe and also in this country.

"In Pieces but Still Holding It Together." By Bouke de Vries (2020).

Babe are you okay? you reblogged “In Pieces by Still Holding It Together” By Bouke de Vries for the five hundredth time today.

[ID: a number of ornate painted vases, each one shattered to pieces but kept in a glass vase in such a way that their shape still resembles the original. Some of the pieces have been partially repaired with gold, but most of them are still disconneced. End ID]

happy new years! i don't have any celebratory arts, but here's an art i made while ignoring president's boring ass speech at midnight🎉🎉🎉

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