hallicunation

Hallucinations

• relax - voices are often caused by stress, so try to focus on your breathing.

• distract yourself - focus on a task or watch tv.

• ask your voices a question, that you dont know the answer to - if they dont know the answer the voices must be coming from within you.

• background sounds - people have reported that listening to music or having the tv on sort of drowns the voices.

• talk back to your voices - ask them to leave and say no if they order you to do things, remind yourself who’s in control.

• know your triggers - it may help to keep a diary of when the voices are more active.

• medication - modern anti-psychotics are 80-90% effective in revieling voices and will often make them disappear.


Delusions

• distraction - same with hallucinations.

• give them facts - checking facts and statistics may help

• talk about them - in my case, the more i talked about my thoughts, the more unrealistic they seemed. That may not happen to everyone, but it is helpful to talk about them.

• know your trigggers - same with hallucinations.

• medication - same with hallucinations.

Don’t

• dont isolate yourself - this is common among people with schizophrenia, but talking about what youre experiencing, or at least see a friend, is helpful


• dont do drugs - it might feel like it helps, but its only temporary. In the long run street drugs may make your symptoms worse and put you on a higher risk of relapse.

Atonement

Request : hi hi hi! could you write something about a reader running into rick somewher and yelling at him for leaving her like the scene between rick and morgan from s3?? lots of angst nd fluff pls XD

Characters : Rick Grimes x Reader

Word Count :

Warnings : vvv angsty, lots of yelling


With a short, pained gasp, your eyes flew open. Knowing immediately you weren’t in your usual hideout, which consisted of a hard, cold floor and hardly any lighting, you quickly leaped up from the soft cot, lurching to grab your rifle which had been left by your bedside. You stumbled, feeling a searing hot pain at your side, but managed to grab the gun anyway, and within seconds, your weapon was raised, prepared to fire. With a low grunt of pain, you gritted out a few low words, “Who the hell are you people?”

You had run into trouble when a group of men with guns had stormed your camp in the early morning. Luckily, you had heard them coming from a mile off, and you had just enough time to scramble up a tall tree before they had flooded in, kicking over the small, metal pot of river water which you’d boiled the night before so you’d be able to drink it in the morning. You had watched in fury as they rifled through your belongings, picking through your pack as if it were their own.

With a rather angry expression, you tugged your silver, and extremely expensive, wrist watch, off your wrist, kissing its face, before hurling it as far as you could. You were rather annoyed about losing your watch, which had cost your ex-boyfriend just under three hundred bucks, but you figured that losing your watch was a better deal than losing your life.

Your watch thumped against a tree, snapping a thin branch, before softly hitting the ground. The noise quickly attracted the attention of the men, who dumbly hurried after the sound, leaving one skimpy teenager with a handgun to see if whoever was living there came back to their camp.

As soon as the other idiots disappeared from your view, you prepared to leap from your branch, which only seemed to be a head higher than the skimpy teenager, and abruptly tackle him to the ground. Although, before you could jump, your foot suddenly slipping, and a gasp slipped past your lips. The kid’s head snapped up, spotting you just as you leapt at him, giving him just enough time to raise his handgun, firing blindly.

You had gasped at the feeling of a bullet tearing through your side, continuing to fall on top of the kid, knocking him out as soon as his head hit the floor. Knowing the other men would be back any minute, you grabbed your rifle and set off into a sprint in the opposite direction.

You had run as fast as you possibly could, one hand pressing at your side, feeling a warm wetness underneath your palm. And eventually you had reached the outer walls of a prison, surrounded by walkers. You had suceeded in killing a few of them, before you had crumpled to the floor, your vision fading quickly to a dull black.

These people, stood in front of you now, watched you in worry, some even with slight anger in their eyes. No one spoke, and you quickly grew angry, aiming your rifle at the ceiling and opening fire. The people flinched, some gasping, “Cut it out!” A little boy shouted bravely at her, before a man rushed round the corner, looking ready to break up a fight, only for his eyes to fall on you instead.

Immediately, his face dropped.

You stared at him for a long moment, your grip on the rifle loosening as you lowered it slightly. You took a few seconds to study his face, his hair longer, beard shaggier, his eyes holding a horrifying sort of grief, just beneath his lashes. His lips were parted in surprise, arms still at his sides, staring right at you with look on his face that made it seem as if he thought he was hallicunating.

You could feel tears burning in your eyes at seeing him again; just his presence felt like a godsend, just as you needed it. Your heart seemed to ache in your chest, lungs clenching as your breathing sped up. “Rick,” You managed to choke out, your rifle almost slipping from your fingers.

Rick glanced at the little boy for a moment, who you now realized could be no one other than the man’s son, Carl. He’d spoken fondly of the little boy when you’d first met him. Upon noticing that Carl was staring right at you, and could definitely see you too, Rick started forwards, already lifting his arms out to hug you tightly.

“No,” You snapped, your relief at seeing him again now long gone as you quickly lifted your rifle to aim right at him. He froze, raising his hands in surrender, while the others tensed, feeling threatened again. “Don’t you dare come near me, Grimes,” You snarled, finger hovering over the trigger, “You take one fucking step forwards, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if your friends shoot me as soon as I pull the trigger, I’ll kill you.”

“Y/N,” Rick spoke softly, hands still raised cautiously, “Listen to me, you don’t want to do this.”

You squeezed your gun tighter, clenching your door as tears welled in your eyes. “Yes, I do,” You swore, refusing to look away from him, and reveling in his worried expression. You knew he was scared, you could tell fromt he look on his face that he knew you’d shoot him if he stepped closer, because he knew what he’d done. “You left me,” You spat, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you immediately tried to wipe away by turning your head into your shoulder.

“Y/N—” Rick tried again, but you cut him off.

“You left me to die!”

The others looked stunned for a moment, all glancing between you, before finally resting their gazes on Rick to test his reaction. Guilt. He looked completely guilty, which only confirmed the group’s suspicions; you were telling the truth.

“You told me you were coming back, a- and you never did,” You managed out, voice shaking gently, “I waited for you, for days, weeks. And you never came back.”

“I couldn’t— Y/N, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” You barked back, rifle still raised, “Didn’t have the balls to come back to get me? Didn’t care enough to try?”

Rick cut you off, looking angry, but still too guilty raise his voice too much. “I tried. I did. I tried to come back, but I couldn’t, the road was cut off by a herd of walkers, it was suicide,” He told you, lifting his foot to slowly take a step forwards, despite your promise to shoot him. You tightened your grip on your gun, readying yourself to shoot at him.

“I lost everything because of you,” You choked, another set of hot tears dribbling miserably down your cheeks, welling at your chin before sliding down your neck.

Rick’s eyes softened as he continued to move closer to you, contented with the fact that, despite him taking far more than one step forward, you never dare shoot at him. When he got close enough, he slowly pulled the rifle from your hands, pasing it backwards to the closest person: a rather annoyed-looking Korean man.

You trembled as the rifle slipped from your fingers, knees wobbling weakly, before your legs abruptly gave out underneath you. You crumpled, falling into Rick’s arms, who caught you with ease. You felt one of his hands move to the back of your neck, holding your head up which threatened to drop to the side at any moment, while his other arm secured itself tightly around your waist, keeping you upright.

Rick must have signaled to his group while your head was buried in his shoulder, because the next time you looked up, your eyes red with tears, you and Rick were alone. “I’m sorry,” Rick murmured as the both of you sank to the floor slowly, you falling limply into his lap as he sat back, legs out in front of him, “I’m so sorry.”

You sat in silence, unable to move from your position, feeling safer than you had for months with your head rested gently against Rick’s chest, curled in his lap as he held you tightly. Only the sound of your quiet cries, muffled by the front of Rick’s shirt, could be heard, along with the heavy, mournful breaths coming from Rick, who seemed as if he didn’t have any tears left to cry.

A minute or two passed before Rick spoke. “Forgive me,” He managed slowly, attracting your attention. You raised your head as he choked on his own ragged breaths, watching as a single tear trickled slowly down his cheek, which he didn’t bother to wipe away. “Please.. forgive me.”

You parted your lips, blinking away your tears as best as you could, only for a few more to slip down your cheek. “What I did—…” Rick tried, pausing as his voice broke, “What I did was.. c- cruel. Please, Y/N. Forgive me.”

You looked up at him for a moment, your hand resting gently on your cheek as a silent tear slid down your pinked cheek, flushed with emotion. You stared up into his teary, crystal eyes, feeling your lips tremble as you managed to choke out a few words, which would only make the poor, broken man cry harder.

“I forgive you.”