A Fraction-Fractured

I thought the world of you, my mind said.

I thought so highly of you.

Yet here you are, broken again; in another way, by another person, a fraction of the light within your soul now fractured, shattered, gone.

What did you do to receive this?

You thought you were doing good. You thought you were doing well.

But you messed with the beast.

And the beast bit back.

And now you’re lying on the floor of a dark cell, emotions scattered around you like shredded pieces of paper, and what do you have left?

Truly, what do you have left?

You’re no better than them, my mind said. You’re no better.

You thought so highly of yourself and your story and your situation. But maybe things got all twisted long ago. Maybe things weren’t what they seemed. Because now you’re in the cell, and the darkness beckons, and the words don’t form, the tears don’t spill, the hardness of the surface beneath your bones doesn’t pull away, the hardness just jabs into you and your body and that’s all that you are anymore: a body.

Pulled apart by the stakes. Pulled apart like your limbs would dislocate soon enough. But maybe not enough. Maybe it’s too much for the world to know your secrets. Maybe it’s too much or not your place to lecture.

Even if you think you’re saying something worthwhile–maybe not everyone is ready or willing or wanting to see it, hear it, grapple with it.

So, here you sit. Lost in the abyss; a taste of something more than The Void and you don’t like what you found. You don’t like what you found at all.

So go back to your words, lick your lips and wipe away those tears.

You’re not wanted here. Not fully, not wholly. Only certain parts, only certain parts and no truths, no perspectives, no stories different than their own.

You did something you shouldn’t have. You did something you shouldn’t have.

Like having opinions, having perspectives, having a voice, having a story. Just not in the way they liked, not in the way they are comfortable with expressing. And now it’s time to just walk away.

Even when it kills you.

…Especially when it kills you inside.

Some people aren’t ready for that. Some people aren’t equipped to handle it. You’ve said your piece. So peace out.

You’ll go back to grieve in whichever way that is. You’ll accept the process for what it is. Maybe not right now, maybe not today, but tomorrow, a soon coming tomorrow and you’ll find yourself okay again. Because it’s okay to feel. It’s okay to feel your feelings.

Even when you’re fractured. Even when a fraction of you has been depleted.

It’s still okay to feel that. Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

Because at least if you’re hurting, you know it’s because it mattered to you. You loved and you lost, and now you’re in pain, but it’s because you loved so much that it was worth it. You loved, you lost, you grieved, you overcame. Over and over. You overcame. So just see this as another thing to overcome. You’ve got this.

My mind had said its piece, and I had formed my own. So I folded up the letter again, letting the ink smudge into one another so that the words became mere blocks of black like long school buses. Unhinged. Unknown. A fraction of its own fracture. And I thought to myself, as I stared out the window with the tears running down its lips, and the mixture of my own tasted salty like the sea, I thought,

Thanks, Rebecca. Thanks.

About the piece:

Written 10/5/2022; Inspired by true events; music listened to: “Narcissist” by Lauren Spencer Smith


Word prompt: https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2022/10/05/your-daily-word-prompt-Fraction-ydwordprompt-October-5-2022/

To be free once more . . .

via Today’s Daily Prompt: Release

I am the wilderness, locked in a cage.

I am a tree reaching for the sun, please don’t hold me down.

I am a rolling wave without the motion.

I am an asphalt flower breaking free.

I am the fire burning desperately but you’re controlling me,

Release me.

Release me.

Legit, I thought of this song when I saw the word chosen for today’s daily prompt. It took me a few moments to remember who it was by and to find the right video, but I did it and I have about 8 minutes left to tell you about everything that’s been happening.

First, I’m only allowed 4 hours, at the moment, per day of Internet time. I know, scary, right? 😉

Second, I have a shit ton of journaling posts that I’ll be uploading over the course of the next month, likely, and then continuing each day from then on.

Third, I’ve been MIA because I’ve legit been in the hospital for an entire month.

You read that right.

An entire MONTH.

I got hospitalized for the tenth time on September 18th 2017 and I just got out today, October 20th 2017.

Mocha is officially a DOGGO. She’s so big now you guys! And tall!!

I’ve been keeping a journal, and writing articles (of course!) four actually that I will be working on uploading and submitting soon.

I got a change of meds and because of money will be changing them again.

I got ECT (six rounds of it).

I did some shit while I was inside. (Not good stuff).

I made lots of new things.

And overall, I’m a lot better than what and where I was before (most of which I can’t recall, anyways).

As you will come to see in my articles–I have been released from the confinements within my skull. The world is an exciting place for adventure and fun. I look forward to what tomorrow holds.


Stay safe, my dear, dear friends. ❤ ❤ ❤


PS I would put this into the mental health song a day challenge but I can’t actually remember what that pattern and scheme looked like. 😉

End of Summer Organizing | #WWRRM

Daily Prompt THUMB

Saturday’s Prompt ~ Organize

Wanted to make this post sooner, but have had a lot of struggles lately. Wasn’t sure what to submit for today, but I figured I could write for this piece and share the photos I have just made about it, plus some extra photogenic photos.

If I sound off, it’s because I am. I’d go into detail but, basically my Tweeter tells the story. I’d rather not talk about it much right now, just know that I’d been in crisis for self-harm/suicidality for twenty-four hours on and off, and it only ended (for now?) around noon today.

So, while I was doing well in the last week, I had been organizing a lot. Here are the preparations I’ve already made for the new semester: (Which I feel I’m ready for month 1 and less so for the months thereafter)

First, I organized through my backpack and threw out stuff I no longer need (and congratulated myself on the candy I have in various pockets and various coping supplies littered throughout my bag, that’s awesome, Recovery Raquel!!).

Then I went through my gel pens and designated this pencil pouch to them:


It’s a pretty blank pencil pouch, so I am thinking of painting over it to liven it up. 🙂

Then I found through an old folder about structure some monthly planner sheets:


These I will use as reading assignment due dates for all my classes, to help organize me and keep up with what I need to do and have a visual for doing so.

Then I have the monthly designated sheets which I will use for recording major deadlines.

Here are two classes of books (waiting on another two to come in the mail):


Here are my subject notebooks: (I decided to use two composition notebooks as I don’t have many more full sized notebooks and I figured instead of buying more I can use them and if I want future ones, well, then I can buy them. As of late, I haven’t used them!)


Then I have my homework folder and my new agenda planner I got:


This will help to keep me organized and writing down my assignments so I can remain on top of them and keep structure in my life. I haven’t used agendas or writing out assignments in three years.

Then, I ordered this planner from Amazon called Tools 4 Wisdom which comes in a large size and a smaller one. I was leaning more towards the smaller one but I didn’t like that it was from 7 – 7 only, whereas the larger one is 5 – 10. It has the times written out so I can easily fill in each day during the week of what I’m up to. This will also help to keep me structured and using planners to keep me organized and more in control of my life and my time management.

I’m a little wary of using this planner since my last one was so big and heavy that I was able to ignore and avoid it, but because I’ve been keeping up with daily planning and goal setting for each day since about July, I think I’m doing well.

I have even transitioned to using 8.5″ x 11″ printable sheets of planners this week so I can get more accustomed to it. Maybe I will even use one of my more weekly ones before I start using the planner once I get it at the end of this week. 🙂

Here’s what those printable planners look like:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I have another couple too that I already used but I’ll refrain from showing them today.

Any who, that’s the organizing I’ve been up to, except for the last few days.

I hope you all enjoyed this post! I would add those artsy pictures now but I have to feed my hamster and want to go to sleep early (I only slept 5 1/2 hours broken up). Night, guys!!

h i d i n g | Artwork

Today’s prompt – Hidden

My Artwork! THUMB

Could have sworn this daily prompt was the word ‘hiding’ instead. Ah well, it still works. Any who. Short post today.

My therapy session, as I said on Twitter today, got a volcano shoved up its ass. What that means is one of my parents was present and we were still talking about things that happened two weeks ago that I was just uninterested in and felt like we were living in the past (I wanted to talk about current events, live feed as my therapist said). It was the first time in therapy where there was a noticeable tension (I didn’t notice it, T did) and I was going through all other alternatives to escaping the situation. I thought and imagined storming out, ending the session there, crying (I was nearly there), and others I don’t care to remember. It felt like there was no way out and I got overwhelmed and felt like there were no options, at the same time as my reminding myself to look for those options.

It was a shit storm.

T and I managed to salvage the rest of the session (half an hour) and come up with a plan ahead of time if that ever happens again, which is helpful. T also offered for me to have another appointment tomorrow, which they don’t do as a rule, to help salvage the situation. Which I appreciate. Felt guilty for, yes, but m definitely appreciating that now assssss

My parent is STILL in a sour, bitchy mood because of it. Or, because of what happened. *rolls eyes* STILL. It’s like eight hours later and they haven’t spoken to me since.

Then with my Youtube video I got a notice that one guy’s music is copyright claimed so then I felt overwhelmed that I couldn’t find an alternative song and what to do about it and there’s just not a lot of good, free music online and I just got stressed out.

I took myself out of the situation and the Internet for a while, listening to my iPod in my room, smelling the sachet I got recently (the nice smelly scents in a pouch), texting people and drawing, or trying to. I didn’t like how it was coming out though, but I tried again and this is what I wound up with:

I went full blown artsy with it, listening to music and just expressing myself purely. Haven’t done this in a long time, especially in this medium, not since I took that art class almost a year ago. It was rather freeing, and I’m pleased with the results, and will likely be more pleased and comfortable with it as time goes by.


It has my RtW signature and the date 7/27/17 on the bottom half. I used graphite pencil, 2H pencil, charcoal and my fingers (the streaks and to blend).

It’s fitting, because it’s a gray scale of a person in a fetal position, which is a throwback to my old depressive episode days. I’ve always wanted to draw this just never got around to it.

Today I felt like hiding when all the shit was hitting the fan. Now, I just want it to be over. Here is the outline I first did:


And also some other angles of the main image:



That’s all I got for today. I really didn’t and wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to blog tonight, and I’m glad that I still prevailed even if it was beyond my scheduled time (I don’t blog now after 8p). Hope you enjoyed this post!

Thanks for stopping by! 🙂 I’ll feel better soon. ❤ ❤ ❤ xxx

The Tea Party | Sketch

Today’s Prompt = Tea

My Artwork! THUMB

This blog post is multi-faceted, let me just get that out of the way now. I’d like to discuss again, as I’m sure that I’ve mentioned the role of the tea party before in my life and certainly on my blog, the tea party phenomenon. It fits equally as such because last night I visited the tea party and today’s daily prompt is tea! 😀

Let’s jump on in!

First, the art piece I will be showcasing in this post is an official work in progress and is a sketch, that I made about an hour and a half ago and that I video recorded the process (which will be up on my Youtube channel the following day) of. So, that’s exciting. I’d like to talk about the process and the concept of the piece within this post, as I also explore the concept of what the “tea party” really is.

With that said, here is the artwork I’m referring to:


The bottom half of the drawing features a woman with her eyes closed, hand under her chin. The top half is what is going on in her mind–the tea party. DUN DUN DUNNNN. (I have about 20 minutes left to upload this post so the Youtube video will be updated to it by tomorrow).

The tea party is essentially the time one spends ruminating among the crowd of mental health conditions. I used to call it (and still struggle with calling it this) the OCD tea party but I don’t believe I really live with OCD anymore, not the classic type at least. Essentially, I wanted to showcase the mental torture of the tea party, the innocence displayed that is fabricated since the actual tea party is menacing, disgusting and a glorified lie, while not being morbid about it. A difficult feat, for sure.

You will see in the AiP (art in progress) that I started out a little morbid then decided I didn’t want that in my new sketchbook and didn’t like the connotation arising in it. So I changed it to how it looks here.

Here, it’s more that the person in the imagined bubble is acting as a puppet with depression (left) and obsessionality (right) controlling them.

The tea party is often experienced by myself when I put in my musical headphones, stand up in my room and pace around while “talking” to myself. Le sigh.

I haven’t figured out a good way to break this cycle, just yet. But I’m sure that I will come up with one.

When the tea party calls for you, what do you do?

Here are close ups of the bottom and top:


Okay, I would do more, but I’ve legitimately been running around with the video part and the writing and drawing and everything so this is a rough draft of this post, at best. I’ll update it and re-work it a bit tomorrow. I just don’t want to miss the fact that this is the start of WEEK NUMBER 4 for daily blogging!!!!

Thanks for reading, peeps!!

(Also I’m going to the movies to see Spiderman Homecoming tonight so that’s the reason for the rush, we leave in 15).


Here’s the finished video on Youtube, please check it out!!

This post will have a follow-up once I’ve completed coloring it in and making a secondary video of that. It rained today (Thursday) so I couldn’t film, but hoping tonight/tomorrow I can try again.

If there’s any issues with the video like bloops and blips, let me know as I was rushing when I made it. Hope you guys enjoy!! 😉

Traditionally Nontraditional

Today’s Prompt ~ Traditional

Apparently, traditional art means much more than I thought it did. I thought it meant working with pencil only, but no, much larger than that. So large I really don’t want to spend the time trying to research and understand and read up on it because it really doesn’t matter that much.

So, onto the actual post!

Today’s post I will be sharing 3 works of art:

My Artwork! THUMB

Excluding the one above, that’s just my thumb for this post!

I made it on Canva though 😀




So this is a drawing I made spontaneously back in May! I sent this in the mail to Tiffany Lewis, who is the owner of the non profit organization Pens for Pals about anti-bullying and suicide prevention. Phew, that was a handful! She and her volunteers write weekly/bi-weekly letters to people worldwide to help provide support and a listening pen. 🙂

You can probably Google her and find her Twitter, Youtube, Facebook, podcast, etc. She’s really sweet! So I made her this drawing yonder ago!

It was actually while my friend Elliot was over the house. I first drew it in pen and then I went in with watercolors and pearlescent watercolors (the shiny parts), so yeah! 🙂





This is but ONE of the drawings I made while I was inpatient this last time. It features two women, one upside down either way you look at it, with an hourglass in the middle between them that has a rainbow of grains that reads: “All Life Is Temporary”.

Which is essentially meaning that all life and its moments and situations are temporary ones–so if you’re in either a great or unpleasant place, it won’t last forever! And that’s the way it was meant to be, that’s life! Let it lift you up and bring you joy and hope, rather than bring you down into the shadows and abyss.

I made this drawing while hanging out with Kaiden, we were doing some pacing as pacing buddies do, and he had complimented me on my people drawing so I was inspired to make more.

I did the initial line work in pencil! And the eraser I had was crappy so couldn’t really erase anything!

Then I did the color in CRAYONS! Fucking love crayons now. 😀 Let me know what you all think! 🙂 (My idea for tomorrow’s post is to talk about readership and comments. *nods*)




The completed version is above–BUT WAIT! I have in progress photographs too! 😀

The concept for this piece was actually inspired by a good friend of mine on Twitter, who I had told that my therapist says to think of my falls as mere stumbles, and they responded with this phrase. I was really inspired by it and I decided I wanted to write it down as an AId (Art Idea, drawing) and then I was really in the mood so I decided to draw it that night!

But when I went in with pencil I didn’t like how it was coming out so then I almost gave up but then decided to go back to my roots and said FUCK IT and went in with the paintbrush for watercolors instead!! 😀

Here’s the in progress photos:

Just slightly out of order for the first two but it’s good everywhere else (not that I sat there to watch it).

Of course the concept is about mental health conditions (or other such struggles) and crawling away from them towards the brightness of recovery. I used pearlescent watercolors again in this piece, too. Maybe I shall work on a drawing tonight, as well.

I did a LOT today, but that’s for another post!

That is all that I wanted to share for this artwork post today. More will come as music inspired, fanfic cover art and IOS! 😀

See ya, peeps!

Creating Structure

A Prompt from this Week >> Disastrous

Structure. To those of us living with mental health conditions, structure is often a critical force to be reckoned with. We often need structure in our lives otherwise we wind up too much in our own minds, and that can lead to dangerous situations and disastrous outcomes.

So how do we begin to structure our time?

First, it’s good for us to have an outlet for creating our structure. A structure for the structure, so to speak.

For almost two weeks, I’ve taken a liking to the stationery I’ve got from Target that has a daily schedule (8am – 9p), priorities and notes section. Examples will be shown below. The way I’ve gotten it to work is by writing in pencil what I think I’ll be doing during selected hours (and even writing tasks in multiple blocks, so that I’m being flexible and realistic rather than rigid and not adaptive) and then going back later in pen what I actually wound up doing.

It was definitely easier doing this when I was going to the partial, as this is my first day without it, but I have a couple of exercising ideas to keep me up and active and not falling asleep with Mocha on the living room floor. 🙂 (Such as walking and bike riding).

I would also fill out a Weekly to do list with about 10 goals, must do’s and later on’s.

Here is what those look like:


This helps me to focus myself on what I want to get done overall in the week, what little notes to remind myself of and building in these goals to my daily structure/goals.

Here’s a slideshow of my daily sheets:

A couple of them are a little blurry, sorry about that. :3 They end on Tuesday since that was the initial day I was going to write this post! ^^’

It’s also helpful to put into the blocks of time when you need to eat and take your meds.

It’s also important and great self-care to schedule in an hour of reward time or me time each day. 🙂

I also started to score my day last Saturday and have been keeping up with that all right.

Soon, I want to also add filling out workbooks to my list as well as doing better with reading. Maybe this weekend, even. 🙂 For the reading. Hehe


That’s about all I’ve got for now, TV and music going makes it a little hard to focus. >_<

See you guys tomorrow for another post!


Speaking Out About Mental Health Part 1


Photograph from 2012.

July 11th’s Prompt ~ Grit

People say: “You’re brave” “You’re courageous” “You’re an inspiration” “You’ve helped me” “Thank you” when it comes to sharing one’s mental health recovery journey. I’ve been told some of these things, myself, over the course of the year that I’ve been sharing my story. The words have come from followers, friends, family, strangers, and professionals.

Of course, mental health blogging can be a challenge in and of itself. To be honest, living with a mental health condition itself takes a whole lot of courage and, dare I say, grit. Sometimes people living healthy (or sometimes unhealthy) lives without a mental health condition cannot seem to fathom or understand how deeply it runs in our lives and how it can thwart us. For those of you out there reading, well, keep on reading. The answer may not lie in this post, necessarily, but to be seeking out information to better understand your loved one is a really, really good sign.

I often disagree with those out there with mental health conditions who say “You’ve had to have been through it to understand it” or “book knowledge is not enough” (essentially).


Because empathy exists. With empathy I don’t have to have experienced something myself to have a sense of what you may be going through. With empathy, I can place myself into your world–even if it’s still essentially MY world view.

You see, I interpret the whole concept of “you’d only get it if you’ve been through it” a load of bullshittery because NO ONE would therefore understand it. We are ALL different. Your experience is different than my experience, yet, generally we can clump together our separate experiences and call them what they are: life experiences. Just because I’ve been through X doesn’t mean I went through it the same way you did. Therefore, I don’t necessarily have to have been through X to get a sense of what you’re going through.

It’s all just approximation and some imagination, if that’s a simpler way of looking at it.

People who haven’t gone through mental health conditions can still empathize with us who are going through them, because they offer us a different perspective. Can this perspective be misguided? Absolutely. Do they always know the right thing to say or do? Nope. But they care, and they let us know that, and that’s what’s important. (And if they don’t care, well, fuck them).

Just like it is not necessary to hit rock bottom in order to begin one’s recovery journey, I don’t think it’s necessary to have had to experience mental health conditions one’s self in order to relate to others. I repeat this again, because I think it’s an important distinction (and I don’t feel I’ve covered it enough here).

For instance, take the topic of suicide.

There are the people who harp on and off about the philosophical meaning of it, the religious bullshittery about not doing it and the “selfishness” involved with it. Those are the people who are way back in the forest fighting amongst themselves.

Then there are the people who are at the very edge of the cliff — people who aren’t suicidal yet are willing to learn about it in order to be there for their loved ones.

Next, we have the people falling off, mid flight, in pause, from the cliff side. These are those of us who have experienced suicidality in our lives.

My point?

It’s not necessary to have to experience suicidality yourself in order to get the gist of what it’s like to be free falling.

Again, you may never truly “understand” it, but, who does? Really, who does?

Any who, my point has been made, on that end. No pun intended. Now I’d like to re-explore the other point of this post.

Grit. Living with a mental health condition is an act of bravery. It is the spirit of being courageous, of facing the day, even when that’s the last thing you want to be doing. It is getting up out of the bed in the morning when every part of you just wants to curl up in the fetal position and be with your thoughts.

Blogging for mental health is….at times, facing the adversity. You don’t know how many times people in my life have questioned my blogging and its helpfulness to myself, others, and especially because it’s on the topic of mental health and suicide prevention. I’ve often had mental health professionals and my parents question if this blog is merely feeding into the mental illness rather than providing me of a coping strategy–and a powerful one at that (as well as a journal).

It definitely aggravates me when people do this. I’ve considered it before, and I still disagree. Blogging is a coping strategy for me, it keeps me busy, and I get to choose what I blog about. Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself, but this blog is about recovery to WELLNESS.

And of course, that begs the question, when I’m doing poorly, do I still blog? Do I edit out the negatives or do I expose them, too? Do I curb myself into providing my own to do of adaptive coping strategies and working through what I need to or do I just focus on how shit I feel?

I haven’t always done this. I haven’t always “edited out” or worked through positively my issues, yet I am willing and more prone to do them now.

I DO want this blog to return to its original mission, not the abbreviated, complex and sometimes dangerous outlet it became a few months in.

So, mental health blogging? It’s tricky stuff. We balance on the tightrope of sharing too little or sharing too much. We balance on trying to find a balance, and either putting in too much or not enough, and we struggle at times to find that happy medium.

Yet it’s a part of our journeys. There will always be some form of adversity and someone who has to stand up against it.

Will you be standing? Or will you be silent amongst the crowd? Having a differing opinion but keeping your mouth closed tight?

There’s not really a “right” or “wrong”. It’s whatever works best for you in the moment. It’s not easy to be so transparent, AND it can be learned.

It’s important before we act on a behavior, whatever that behavior is, to understand why or for what purpose we want to move forward with.

I’ve said it before, and for this post, I’ll say it again. I choose to break the silence about mental health because I strongly believe that silence kills. Our society needs to talk about mental health and suicide prevention. It should be taught in schools. It should be common knowledge. I want to do my part in joining the already growing crowd of people sharing their stories and their recovery’s. That’s why I talk, speak up, type, blog, etc.

I hope my point has come across. It’s been a little muddled on this side but, I think I’ve said my piece even if it was jumbled due to interference’s in my environment.

I have a reason to be blogging and that hasn’t changed. Here’s hoping it never erases.


❤ ❤ ❤

(PS I’m putting this into the category (imaginary category) of a short series, as I’d like to better write out my thoughts again another time but this is like the draft version of that and it took me a while to write it (fucking writer’s block) and so a more polished version will come out later.)


The Savagery of Trichotillomania Strikes Again

What I never got to say in the month of June was that my eyebrow grew back from the last time I pulled it out–due to trichotillomania. It took a month for the regrowth to happen, and by doing my coloring pages and self-care making sure I got out my stress before I went to sleep, well, that did the trick.

Unfortunately, while being inpatient again, my fingers got rather pull-y. I pulled from my brows and my eyelashes.

I thought it was bad during that time…until last night. By far, my worst pulling ever, worse than the last time I spoke up about it. Genuinely, 85% of that same eyebrow is gone again. I’d like to make this post about the savagery of trichotillomania, what it’s like at it’s worst. Ideally, I’d like to not do much extra research with it, to just keep this post simple and updated-y, but I may surprise myself (as long as my laptop battery doesn’t run out!).

Let’s get started.

First, when I pull at night for me, it feels like there are no consequences to be had. As I said before, I tend to enjoy rolling the thick lash in my fingers before depositing it onto the sheets below. I have pictures of both the aftermath, the regrowth from last time and the charred remains from last night’s pull session. Just an FYI that they’ll be posted here, so if you have trich and it’s triggering for you to read about, I suggest backing away now.

Even typing it now I kinda want to start pulling again.

For me, last night, I was thinking of the whole load of stressors in my current life. Ranging from Mocha to school to my current life situation to hanging out with friends (or trying to plan to do so) and so on and so forth. I didn’t realize I had actually pulled out 35 lashes until I saw the result of my pulling and the lashes left on my sheet.

Here’s what that result looks like:


As you can see, I went for the middle portion the most but even the end of the brow is missing, too. I still can’t decide whether or not it’s worse having that thin sliver at the top (I think it makes me look angry) or if I’d be “better off” without it. :S

Here, too, is the photo of the poor little warriors off the mission and a photo dating back to June of how my brows were looking:


For good measure, although I’ve pulled from my other brow and my eyelashes, this is what the other side looks like right now:



So what do I do about the trichotillomania?

At first, I was shocked and devastated and definitely feeling shame about what I had done. I didn’t actually cry a lot (or at all) which was surprising to me but I did reach out to some friends via text message soon after.

The hardest thing is facing the world after missing an eyebrow. Luckily, I am myself so I can’t actually see my face 24/7 so I have that kind of reprieve (whereas everyone else can see what happened).

I do dread going out into public tomorrow for the partial program looking as I do, yet I’m also hell bent on not covering up what happened either. I mean, I guess if anyone comments on it I can just tell them that I live with trichotillomania, and thereby raise awareness about what it is (even if I don’t know THAT much about it myself). I know that it’s not a “bad habit”, it’s a legitimate OCD spectrum disorder. It is probably the only mental health condition that I live with that actually causes me to feel ashamed about.

I also find that looking at other people’s trich troubles helps me, too. I suppose it just gives me more confidence to wear my face bare and let people question it if they wish to. I just don’t like the idea of hiding–even if instinctively that’s what I want to do.

So wear my face bare is what I’ll do. I refuse to cover it up. Maybe that makes me a coward or disillusioned, but oh well.

While I was inpatient and struggling with this disorder, I made a trichotillomania awareness drawing. I’d like to share that with you all, now.



And yes, I did this in pencil (with no eraser D:) first then colored it in with crayon. The background is a mixture of violet and red violet. This piece was completed on July 4th 2017. 🙂

I’m sure I will have future posts about trich, so in that time I will learn more about it to be able to explain it to you all, too. If you HAPPEN to know more about it than what I’ve presented here and in my previous post, do enlighten me!! 😀

Thank you, everyone! ❤ ❤ ❤

Worth It | Avengers Fanfic

Inspired by June 13th 2017’s daily prompt: taper

*I do not own these characters. All rights go to Marvel.*

Worth It

Summary: Loki removed the shining silver utensil from the nearest table. “That may have been Hel frozen over, but I am not known to fail on a mission.” In which Loki goes to the ends of the world to get what he wants.

A low hiss sounded in the dark abyss.

“Please, d-don’t,” came the hoarse whisper as pain settled deeply into the man’s bones. Jet black hair lay in a tousled heap, sweat sticking the loose strands to the man’s flushed cheeks. Rivulets of the liquid mixed with the man’s tears as they became one on their way down slender cheeks. The man’s lips were parched, his throat a mess of raw tissue and red staining wine. Except, of course, it wasn’t wine, but rather the blood of his heart that circulated through his body, pouring out from his open mouth as he spat feebly in response.

The pain, by the Norns, was the pain unbearable.

Electric shocks zapped through his body sending him into reigning spasms, uncontrollable quirks of his tissues as they shivered and shuddered. His hands, weak and useless by his sides, tingled with the shock that was working its way into his system. His palms itched, his fingers cold to the touch and his veins were pronounced–protruding outwards like high-rises.

His brain was sludge, barely working, barely functioning, and he, he was barely breathing. Thoughts rumbled into one another with a force so heavy he thought he might dry heave. Scattered were the remnants of his memories as flashes of a red cape, lightning and a blonde, blue-eyed face appeared in his vision. There were pieces of a brightly lit rainbow, a helmet man, an eyepatch, red and gold and so, so much green.

He felt the bile in his throat rise as he rasped out again.

“P-please, d-d-don’t,” he begged quietly. Forming words on his cracked lips was nearly impossible, but he thought maybe, just maybe they had come out all right. Maybe, just maybe, the Norns would grace him with repentance and kindness–just this one time.

But he was never so very lucky.

“–orry Reindeer Games,” the voice, rough and gravelly, didn’t sound so convincing. It sounded strained, as though difficult work lay ahead and the man felt fear rise unsteadily in his chest.

If this was just the beginning, he’d rather not be around for the climax.

“P-please, j-just k-k-k…” he felt his energy zap away from him as though he were a machine that had been startled from being pulled out from its energy source.

He felt so very, very sleepy.

His eyes wavered in their blinking motion, green orbs unfocused as the world swam around him.

“-ey, ’ey! Stay with me, okay?” The voice, whoever was speaking, sounded a lot more concerned this time around, even if the slowly losing conscious man noticed a hint of malice in their tone.

He violently wanted to complete his prior thought, but the sentiment rolled away from him like spilt marbles on an escalator. He watched in mild fascination and severe distraction as they glimmered like diamonds, like the jewels he once collected from Vanaheim.

Jewels, gems, Mother.

Oh, how the universe was ever so cruel to him! Why could he not be within the arms of his lovely mother, a mother who loved him dearly despite his abhorrent nature?

Green eyes rolled uselessly in their sockets, a cry of pain escaping his lips as the pain drilled onwards. Deep, deep into the flesh of his flesh, the bone of his bone, his brain could not comprehend the atrocity of what was occurring, but somewhere deep within himself he knew he was responsible for the pain.

He knew somewhere deep down in his heart that he was getting off easy with this flavor of punishment.

Maybe the Allfather had finally given him the reprieve he so wished for, just in the most brutal and terrible of ways.

Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be long for him now. Maybe he’d be finally allowed to let go of this haphazard wasteland of a life that was so cruelly cut out for him when he was found, abandoned, on that icy rock. Maybe it was time for him to finally breathe again, by way of no longer being.

The trickster felt all of these feelings, raw and pure and immobile, as he lay wherever he lay, in a world he was uncertain of, with a purpose long lost from his reckless fingertips.

His eyelids began to flutter shut, as the cool embrace of nothingness encompassed him, but as always, he was never let go of so easily.


The trickster could not even suppress a groan.

The bumbling buffoon came running to his side, wherever that side may be (he certainly couldn’t tell), clasping one of his icy hands in a fiery bath of warmth.

Loki tried to pull away instinctively, but the older demigod refused to relinquish him from his grasp.

“Loki, what is the meaning of this?”

The urge to yawn strangely swept through the younger sibling before he could stop his mouth from opening and spilling out the breath he had unknowingly been holding.

“Friend Stark, why has my brother taken to sudden illness?” Thor’s expression hardened as his eyes narrowed in suspicion; “Has something gone on while I was away?” his voice was low, as though issuing a threat, which Loki was surprised to hear from his not-brother.

The aforementioned individual raised two hands, palm open, in the air.

“Whoa there, Point Break, I was just helping out. I figured you’d be pissed if we let Reindeer Games,” he gestured to the limp figure on the cushioned table, “die.”

A frown and look of confusion etched its way into the features of Loki’s face.

“I’m-I’m not–” Loki reconsidered his words carefully, “is it over?”

His words were measured, controlled almost, and whispered delicately as if their utterance would result in a swooping motion of reapplied pain.

He waited a second, two, three, but the pain was tapering off. He felt himself regain control of his once trembling limbs, his fingers feeling warmer than before (except for where Thor held his hand, which he still grumbled about and tried to pull away from) and his head clearing considerably.

Of course, leave it to the Allfather to give him a sudden illness only for him to wish for death then take away the opportunity straight from under him.

“What happened?” Loki asked next, seeing as how the Man of Iron had yet to answer his previous question.

Tony Stark quirked an incredulous brow upwards and snorted to himself, pouring himself a glass of scotch while holding up a torched, smoking circular object.

“This thing was the cause of your plight,” he tossed it lightly to the demigods. “Would you like to keep it? I can probably score one of those medical jars that doctors keep record breaking tumors in from Pepper, if, you know, that’s your thing.”

Thor looked to the object in equal amounts of confusion. Before he could ask, the memory clicked in Loki’s mind.

That is what caused all of this?” He sounded dismissive and hardly believing some metal bracelet around his ankle was capable of so much damage.

“Well, you were on house arrest. What did you expect? You can’t just show up a few months after New York and picture Fury welcoming you back with a pink ribbon and a Pride parade.” Tony took a swig from his scotch. “You gotta earn that last one.” He remarked, winking.

Thor cautiously picked up the device. “What–?”

“Lokester was on house arrest; meaning he wasn’t allowed outside twenty-five feet from here to, well, anywhere. Fury wanted to make sure the ‘subject’ remained a part of the tower and only the tower,” Tony shrugged, “we needed something nearly indestructible and he wanted me to tamper with the thing. Never thought we’d have to use it, but Reindeer Games here just couldn’t stand another night without peppermint ice cream.” Tony gave a pointed stare to the offending victim. “Cue the bright lights, party anthems and the ferociously bad ailment, and voila, here we are!”

Thor sent a curious glance towards his brother.

“All for this…peppermint ice cream?” he questioned, gaze lighter than it had been in years.

Loki half-shrugged then smiled mischievously.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had any,” Loki chided, smile growing wider. Before his not-brother could reply, Loki removed the shining silver utensil from the nearest table. “That may have been Hel frozen over, but I am not known to fail on a mission.”

“Except when–” Tony began about to point out the obvious failed mission of recent news but Loki shot him a glare that silenced the man for now.

“What do you say…brother?” Loki challenged his older sibling with sparkling green eyes.

Looking back at his brother as though he’d just seen him alive for the first time, Thor let a small smile form upon his lips.

“I call forth for another!”


A/N: This fic was brought to you by my sleepy musings of Loki wearing an anklet which turned into an ankle bracelet mixed with WordPress’ daily prompt on June 13th 2017 “taper”.

Ta-Da! Something serious that just turns silly.

Additionally, I’d like to thank you all for reading! I’m back with notes on all my stories and soon to be published pieces although, I’ve recently gotten a puppy and inspiration is dodgy at best. Regardless, expect many writings over this summer! Thank you so much, peeps!

Also, if I had to go through an immense amount of pain before I got ice cream mine would be Ben & Jerry’s Boom Chocolatta. So worth it! What would you choose?

And I don’t own these characters!!

Written June 13th & 14th 2017.