mental health in america

Imagine Chris being your rock.

A/N: This piece is going to be more than just about the angst and the fluff, it’s about addressing a serious issue in both my own life and society; an issue that seems to carry a stigma that prevents one from talking about it without shame. Now I started writing because it was the only time where I felt like I had true control over anything, over myself- over life. It’s honestly the reason I’m still alive sometimes. (Super dark, I’m sorry.) I have had an eating disorder for years now, and this is possibly the first time I’m publishing a story where I properly address that because I feel like Tumblr is a safe space and perhaps there is someone reading who will find comfort in my words and seek the help that I, too, am afraid to seek. First of all, you are not alone. Secondly, I know how scary it is. Thirdly, we are beautiful despite how often our reflection tell us we are not. Lastly, you are worthy and you deserve a love like this. Why am I writing this now, while I’m on my holiday having the time of my life? Because mental disorders don’t stop when you’re on holiday, and they don’t stop when you’re working, or studying for a major exam. I just want those who are suffering from this, or depression, or anxiety to know that I am with them always. ❤️

You tapped your pen anxiously against the table as you reread your food diary entry for the day. All the while you could hear the voices in your head telling you that “it’s too much”, that “you failed”, that you needed to “do better” and “be better”, and the harder you tried to ignore said voices, the louder they got. You lowered your pen and closed your notebook, taking slow breaths as your eyelids blackened your vision. You were okay, there was always tomorrow. You could eat less tomorrow; you’d succeed tomorrow; you’d be better and do better tomorrow.

You broke from your concentration when you heard Chris come through the front door, calling out to you. “Babe, I’m home!” Relief escaped your lungs as if he were the only thing capable of saving you from yourself. You returned yourself to your bittersweet reality, stowing your food diary in your top desk drawer where it lived with all your other notebooks; all filled with your thoughts, both blissful and pained.

“Hey you,” Chris smiled at you when you entered the kitchen. You managed one back, despite how tired and heartbroken you were; Chris noticed, but he said nothing knowing it would cause you to break down if he asked. “How was your day?” He asked as you forced your way into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“Same old,” you mumbled, appreciating how comforting his touch was. He stroked your back gently, peppering soft kisses onto the top of your head. “How was yours?” You quizzed, glancing up at him for a moment before pressing your face back into his chest. God, he smelt so good; he smelt more than just his refreshing cologne, he smelt like warmth and kindness and happiness. He smelt like a dose of everything you needed after the day you had.

“Better now that I’m with my girl,” he smiled, giving you a tight squeeze before he released you. You leaned against the island counter while Chris proceeded to unpack the small bag of groceries he’d brought back with him. “So I’ve been thinking,” he glanced back at you, feeling his heart ache at the sight of your tired eyes. “Why don’t we go away for the weekend? We can rent a cabin, go immerse ourselves in the quiet forest. It’ll be nice, don’t you think?”

You knew Chris only suggested going out to a cabin when he was worried about you. It didn’t start out like that, it started off as a getaway where the two of you could spend some time alone without modern technology and people getting in the way. But over the years, it’d become a retreat where one could rid oneself of all the stress, and the emotional dread, and the weight of the world that was on one’s shoulders; that one being you, and occasionally Chris when he was having a particularly stressful time. It was a nice place to be because you wouldn’t have anything to stress and trigger you; you could just exist, drinking the calm and the quiet that Mother Nature provided. But it was also a horrible place to be because Chris would take that opportunity to talk to you, to worry and fuss about you, to love you with a love that you didn’t feel like you deserve, and unlike the city, you’d have no where, nothing, and no one to hide behind.

“I don’t know,” your fingers played with your right earlobe; a nervous tick Chris had deciphered over the years. “I feel like this isn’t a good time. You’re busy with work and I’m busy with work- I don’t think now’s a good time to have a getaway.”

“I think it’s because we’re so busy that we need a getaway,” he countered. “We can’t keep working ourselves to the bone, Y/N.” Especially not mentally, he thought but he didn’t say out loud. “I’m about to leave for Infinity War, now’s a good a time as any for us to have some alone time.” You let out a quiet sigh, but stopped arguing because you knew from Chris’ firm tone that saying no wasn’t an option. “Pack a bag, okay?” He kissed your cheek and you nodded with a forced smile. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
• • • • • • • •
The car ride out to the cabin wasn’t as bubbly as your usual car rides together; there was a fog of emotions, but happiness wasn’t one of them. You didn’t sing or joke, and you most definitely didn’t eat anything. It broke Chris’ heart to see you like this, and it broke yours to see what you were doing to him. It was actually your biggest fear to hurt him the way you were which was why you rejected him when he asked you out the first few times. He had this light in his eyes that you didn’t want to kill with your dark, you’d done enough of that over the course of your existence.

You’d lost friends, and boyfriends, and even some members of your family- you didn’t want to invest in another person only to lose them too. But Chris was persistent. He respected your decision to not be with him romantically, but remained in your life as a friend. A very good friend- a best friend that you couldn’t help but fall in-love with. He was the perfect man, he cared for you and loved you unconditionally. Even after finding out about what you suffered from, he didn’t go anywhere. He was one of the few who promised you a lifetime and actually proved he’d keep his promise, and so you let your walls down and allowed him into your life as your romantic partner.

Two and a half years later, after dozens of panic attacks and days where you’d avoid food altogether, you were still with him and he was as in-love with you as the first time he saw you. Till this day you didn’t understand why, because to you, you were unlovable. But that wasn’t how Chris saw you, he knew you weren’t your disorders; you were intelligent, and talented, and strong, and beautiful, and resilient. He loved you because of all that, but most of all, he loved you because you remained kind despite the constant hell you were dragged through. You may not have seen what he saw, but you were every bit the girl you aspired to be, and until you saw yourself in that same light- he wasn’t going to stop working you towards that.

“Hey.” You turned away from the window when Chris reached for your hand and pulled it onto his lap as he gave it a light squeeze. “What are you thinking about?” He asked then lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. You felt your lips quirk into a smile; that was an act of affection you’d never get tired of.

“Nothing,” you shook your head.

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking about?” He quizzed and you nodded. “How much I love you.” He threw a grin your way and you managed a laugh; he smiled because that was what he loved to hear. “You make me feel like I’m the luckiest man on the planet everyday, Y/N.” He forced himself not to well up when he saw you did. “Everyday,” he repeated in a firmer tone.

“I feel the same way about you, Chris,” you squeezed his hand and smiled. “I love you to a point where you could easily ruin me,” you admitted under your breath as you pulled your hand from his. You didn’t mean for Chris to hear it, but he did and he understood it. It was the same for him; you were going to be someone he’d never get over if he was ever unlucky enough to lose you.

“I’m never going anywhere,” he glanced at you as you closed your eyes, pretending to drift off. “You know that, right?” He waited for an answer, but he didn’t get one. “I’m planning to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart.” He said as he came to a stop at a red light. He leaned over the gearbox and kissed the side of your head gently, whispering as he pulled away, “don’t you worry.”
• • • • • • • •
Chris watched you over the table as you unconsciously stared at your food. You were so used to contemplating the pros and cons of consuming anything that you didn’t even realize you were doing it until you called yourself out. It was incredibly heartbreaking for Chris to see that you couldn’t even do what humans were meant to do in order to survive without first spending hours fighting yourself on it. The motto you lived by: eating is a choice, not a necessity.

You had good days where you could eat and not feel like your entire world was falling apart, then you had bad days where you couldn’t even eat a salad without feeling like you needed to throw it back up. It was so fickle that you didn’t know if you were actually suffering from an eating disorder, or if you were just a health nut who wanted to look good. But no health nut would do what you constantly did to yourself, there was something definitely wrong with you.

Chris could still remember when he first confronted you about it, it was probably one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. You weren’t dating when he found out about your eating disorder, but he was already in-love with you so it didn’t stop his heart from shattering at the sounds of your cries. It didn’t seem like normal crying to him, it was as though he could hear your soul break. The pain you were in was immense but mental, and nothing he did could’ve taken it away. In that moment, seeing the love of his life bawl her eyes out, he thought he’d died and gone to hell.

“Are you going to eat that?” Chris asked gently.

“Um…” You looked up at him, your eyes glistened. “Yeah,” you forced a smile, “I am.” You picked up your knife and fork and poked at the roasted chicken breast on your plate before cutting a small piece and putting in into your mouth. “It’s good,” you mumbled after swallowing.

Now he didn’t want to push you, but his worry had reached the edge of the cliff. You needed to eat something and you needed to eat it now because he didn’t want you to get lightheaded or suffer from gastric pains again. “Y/N,” he began with a sigh.

“What?” You were frustrated with yourself and on the verge of crying. “I’m eating, aren’t I?”

“You have to try harder than that,” he told you. Both of you could both hear how worried he was for your physical and mental health, and that he was on the verge of crying too. “I know how difficult this-” he began but was cut off.

“I love you, Chris, but you don’t.” You shook your head as you rose to your feet, weeping as you did. “And I really don’t want to do this with you right now. Excuse me,” you walked out of the dining room and headed straight for the backdoor so you could take a walk and calm down.

The air was crisp outside. Actually, it was a lot colder than your unprotected body could endure. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing warmth through your thin sweater. You heard the door open then heavy footsteps crunching towards you, you closed your eyes and fought the urge to cry as Chris draped your coat over your shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, rubbing your arms. “You’re right, I don’t get it. If you’re not ready, then- you’re not ready.” Your shoulder shook gently as you cried as quietly as you could. “I can’t force recovery on you, I can just be here for you as you recover. I’m sorry, Y/N,” he repeated as he gently turned you around. “I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” He cupped your face in his hands and brushed away your tears, starting to cry himself. “I’m sorry you’re going through all this, I’m sorry you think you’re not beautiful because you are.”

“I’m broken, aren’t I?”

“No,” he shook his head then pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “You’re not broken, you’re just lost right now. But we’re going to get you out of this, okay?” He rubbed your back soothingly as you cried into his shoulder. “I promise you, this pain isn’t going to be forever.” He pulled back to take your face in his hands again, “and I always keep my promises, don’t I?” You nodded, sobbing. “So believe me, you’re going to be okay.”

“I love you,” you choked out as he pulled you back in for another hug.

“I love you too,” he whispered, clutching onto you as tightly as he could.

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @letterstomyself21 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @sammyrenae68 @brobrobreja @elizabeth-matsuoka @thegirlwiththeimpala @camerica96 @all-of-the-above11 @captainamerica-ce @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @siofrataylor @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @imaginary-world-of-mine @wanderingkat77 @grantward3 @rileyloves5 @chrsmom302 @buckys-shield @mylittlefandomfanfictions @breezykpop @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @hayleesteashoppe @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @louisespecter @castellandiangelo @ccrossfire @assxmblesstuff @edward-lover18 @princessesnaddy @1d-niallerbieberforever @dxbrevgrey @bellastellaluna @christopher-or-steven (I am so sorry for this angsty piece, I just needed to get some stuff out. I’ll get back to the fluff after this, I promise. Don’t quit me ❤️)



If you or someone you know is suffering from depression, don’t be afraid or ashamed to seek help. It is a move of strength to reach out. 


Highschool. Oh highschool. I place that used to be for education and friendship has turned into a place of obedience and bullies. Test scores and graduation rates are more important than mental health. They do not teach you the slaughter of Native Americans, or the struggle of modern day racism, or the fight for gay rights. They do not teach you about sexual violence, oppression, and abuse. They never teach you about the real world. But they will make sure you know that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, how to find the slope of a line, and all the fancy facts about the presidents of America. They sugar coat everything, never show the raw truth. Teachers ignore children in need, children being bullied, children who are contemplating suicide. Maybe if we taught more about mental health and did not make it such a stigma we would increase the amount of children who come forward for help. Highschool is not about education and truth, it is all about trying to make every child’s mind work the same way. No room for creativity, imagination, growth, or health. Just make sure those test scores are high.
Please Don't Do It || Steve Rogers

Summary: It was the end, you couldn’t take it anymore, you decided to end your life. Until a certain handsome 97 year old finds you and tries to change your mind…

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Suicide, Depression, Reader Near-Death
If you’re depressed or suicidal then, please please please ask for help. Ending your life is not worth it. You can talk to me ANYTIME, I don’t bite.

*Requests are open*




Originally posted by thatplaidnerd

Originally posted by master-of-duct-tape

You were alone in your bedroom, laying on the bed as tears were rolling down your cheeks. You’ve been holding it in all day. Seeing all those people smiling an happily living made you want to die. You felt like you were drowning, expect you could see everyone else around you breathe. That’s what depression felt like.

That was it for you. No one understood your pain. No one wants to help. No one.

You made your way to the bathroom, making sure to stop by the mirror, wanting to take one last look at yourself. You hated what you became, you used to be such a happy person, but now it was too late. That joy and desire to live you used to carry has been robbed from you. But then Steve came, and for a while, everything seemed to be better… but it didn’t last, unfortunatly. Not wanting him to abandon you, you never told your lover about your depression. You felt like you were a burden to him, and expressing to him how you felt would just add more weight on his shoulder. You didn’t feel like you mattered.

But what you didn’t know, is none of that was true, you did matter. You did have people who cared about you, you just needed to be brave enough to ask for help, because you deserved someone to be there for you, and help you get through those difficulties. But it didn’t really matter anymore now, did it?

Sighing for what would maybe be the last time, you opened the cap of the bottle, pourring a part of its content in your hand.

Ready to swallow the pills, you shakingly brought the pills close to your mouth when you heard a familiar voice shout.

“Don’t do it, please don’t do it (Y/N) .” No, you told yourself, what is he doing doing here?

“Baby, please don’t do it. I can’t lose you too. Please just put those pills down, love.” He gently whispered.

“You don’t get it Steve, you just don’t. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep putting a fake smile on my face and pretend I’m okay when I’m not. I can’t live with those people who pretend to be my friends while they actually hate me. This world is cruel and I can’t live in it anymore. You can’t understand my pain, no one can Steven. You’re better off without me, you’ll find someone better, there’s so many pretty girls out there who would kill to be with you. Please just let me die Steve.

You whispered the last sentence, not finding enough strengh to use your voice. Steve was fighting back his own tears, blaming himself for not noticing sooner, all the signs were there, if only he just paid more attention to you.

“(Y/N) Look at me.” At first you ignored him, feeling too ashamed to face him. “Baby, hey, look at me. You don’t have to pretend anymore, okay? From now on, I want you to be honest with me. I want to help you fight this, I want to help you. Do you know why? Because I love you, because you’re the only one I want, those other girls mean nothing to me. (Y/N) please, just let me spend the rest of my life showing you how important you are to me.”

As he went on with his speech, he slowly took the pills from your hands, and hid them in his pockets, you didn’t take any actions to try to stop him. You were just exhausted, all you wanted was someone to hold you and tell you everything would be okay.

Steve wrapped his arms around your fragile body. He then tightened his grip around you, never wanting to witness an event like this ever again.

Please don’t let me go…” You desperately asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck, starting to sob once again.

Originally posted by xmind-fuckedx

He kissed your hair and your forehead multiple times as you both sat down on the floor.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere, baby. Everything will be okay.  We’ll get through this together love, we’ll get trough this together.”

You weren’t alone anymore, everything was finally going to get better.

SadBoy BlackBoy - SadGirl BlackGirl Campaign.

Hello guys,

I’ve decided to take mental health awareness a step further. The Black or African American community in America suffers through so much that goes unnoticed. As a community we suffered from a lot of post traumatic stress and a list of other things that may contribute to sadness, hopelessness, and a number of mental illnesses.

This right here is just an opening statement. I am here to let you know that I am going to commit myself to preserve the mental health of my people. I am tired of the stigma. I am tired of the microaggression and racial bias. This one right here is for us.

Lets put these caricatures to rest. We are not a trope. We are a people and our health is at stake. Join me on this journey to change the way we think about mental health. Lets help each other. I want to create a space where we can speak to one another about what is going on in our lives– about the things that are bothering us. I am opening my inbox to anybody who needs someone to talk too and to anyone who is willing to take part in this campaign.

Let’s make a change in the way we think about our mental health.





Jesus Camp follows several young children as they prepare to attend a summer camp where the kids will get their daily dose of evangelical Christianity. Are these children being brainwashed?


This is a documentary about a girl, Genie,  who spent all her life locked in a bedroom - the wild child who grew up in total isolation with almost no human contact.


Documentary exploring the kidnapping - and recent release - of the three young women who were held captive in a cellar in suburban Cleveland, Ohio, for 11 years.


Children of Darkness is an Oscar nominated 1983 documentary film. It explored the topic of juvenile psychiatry - an acute lack of mental health care in America for seriously emotionally disturbed youth.


A chilling documentary featuring an interview between a 6-year-old psychopath and her psychiatrist in which she describes in lurid detail the fantasies of wanting to murder her brother and parents.


a 2000 American documentary by James Ronald Whitney about his grandfather, Melvin Just, and the devastating consequences of the sexual abuse Just inflicted on their family.


The Aokigahara Forest is the most popular site for suicides in Japan. After the novel Kuroi Jukai was published, in which a young lover commits suicide in the forest, people started taking their own lives there at a rate of 50 to 100 deaths a year. The site holds so many bodies that the Yakuza pays homeless people to sneak into the forest and rob the corpses.


On the afternoon of June 13, 1981, a Japanese man named Issei Sagawa walked to the Bois de Boulogne, a park on the outskirts of Paris, carrying two suitcases. The contents of those suitcases, to the lament of a nearby jogger, was the dismembered body of a fellow student – a Dutch woman named Renée Hartevelt, whom Sagawa had shot three days prior and had spent the days since eating various parts of her body. This documentary highlights his life after the incident.

Meet the Interns: Lauren

Stuff I like: Cats. Tea. Music (specifically, The 1975). Poetry (specifically, Michael Lee, Neil Hilborn, and Michael Faudet). Books (specifically, The Great Gatsby). Zelda Fitzgerald. And F. Scott Fitzgerald, I guess. Sloths. Koalas. Being a sensitive soul. Being introverted. Ice cream. Movies. Netflix. Nick Miller. The beach. Warm weather. The color black. Traveling. Art. Love. Social Media (sometimes). TWLOHA!

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anonymous asked:

[1/2] Just a thought: Yuuri going through some form of cognitive dissonance on the off chance that he decides to raise more awareness regarding mental health in America and Japan. I've heard that mental health issues are heavily stigmatized in Japan, it's almost considered taboo. Japan is a collectivist society and conformity is highly valued there. If you're diagnosed with a mental health issue, for the Japanese you're almost considered "useless" in the workforce or wherever.

[2/2] Continuation: On the other hand, America is more open-minded about issues regarding mental health and are more active in their research towards helping those who are diagnosed. Yuuri would probably be extremely conflicted. On one hand, he’s Japanese and I assume majority of his principles are grounded on Japanese tradition and beliefs. On the other hand, he’s lived in America long enough to be more liberal, and to be more open about topics not usually discussed in Japan.
It’s certainly a very interesting topic! But I won’t be going into cultural perceptions of mental health in Rivals as I am not either American or Japanese and wouldn’t be able to portray the intricate cultural aspect effectively or accurately. I also like to think that since in the YOI world there is no homophobia we can also have a world with less stigma surrounding mental health

  • Someone: America shouldn't be taking care of immigrants and refugees while there are AMERICAN VETERANS homeless on the street. Americans first!!!
  • Someone else: all right then can we increase spending on aid programs for the homeless and mental health programs since veterans make up a huge portion of America's homeless and mentally ill population?
  • Someone: No i don't care about that i just want to use veterans as a rhetoric device and then forget about them as soon as i win the argument

anonymous asked:

I almost started crying class because I found out that Arkansas (with Trumps full support) just disbanded the law that allows trans people to use their preferred bathrooms. Now trans people aren't allowed to use public bathrooms AT ALL in Arkansas. What's even worse is that now more states are talking about doing the same thing.

For the sake of my own mental health I still mostly avoid thinking about what is happening in America wrt Mr. Cheeto Voldemort right now. I know it’s a great privilege to be able to (somewhat) ignore it, but it is what I need to do still.

I am so so sorry that you, and other trans people, are smack bang in the middle of that shitstorm though. You deserve so much better than to have a president like him, and you deserve so much better than to be in a place full of people in power who support him.

so I moved back to SC from Chicago (things weren’t working out, the job I had was the worst thing ever for my mental health, Trump’s America so all the perks of a blue state no longer mattered, desperate loneliness, no time or money for the creative shit I moved there for anyway) and I’m working a little every day on getting my upcoming media project running. 

I don’t have a job at all yet, things are really, really tight. I’m living with people who will not let me starve, but you know I need a little $$ to feel like a person and also to get a few things before I can even really set up a kickstarter.

All the wrestling content I’ve created in the past ~2 years- articles, predictions, live tweets, meeting some of you guys, etc- has been unpaid. And I don’t regret doing any of it! But if you’ve enjoyed the work or me or anything, please consider donating a little bit (and also keep an eye out for the kickstarter, which should have some very, very cool things)!

I can offer Tarot readings, we could something on the network, OR I can write a piece on wrestling at your suggestion! If you wanna do something like that, just ask about it and I’ll let you know how much it would be (not full commission prices or anything, I’m trying to live so it’ll be a steal!). But also if you only have a Starbucks order’s worth to spare, I appreciate you so much and like, I don’t know, I’d still love to do something to thank you! 

So I have CASH and Venmo: 

and you can ask for paypal or Chase share info as well (tho I’ve never used the latter tbh and may decline just because it’s relate to a bank and if Idk you like that, well, ya know). 

Signal boosts are, of course, appreciated! Just signal boosting me here and on twitter to any of your wrestling friends or media loving friends is great too, because that’ll help once I really am running this kickstarter thing! 

Thank you, guys! Years ago this community saved me from homelessness, and was such a beacon through various illnesses and life events. I feel a little crazy even asking for help again, but yeah…

I’m kind of a whole person and I’ve got really big plans. 


stucky + tony + my best friends wedding

I had a strange dream that some psychopath was trying to break us up.