every time i read a fic where bucky talks to/near tony about being held captive for an extended period of time, tortured, operated on while awake without his consent, and being forced to do work for bad people,,,,,
and tony goes “wow i could never possibly understand in a million years what that would be like. ur so brave buckaroo i can’t even Imagine how i would feel if i were held captive for an extended period of time, tortured, operated on while i was awake without my consent, and forced to do work for bad people. i do sometimes get mildly stressed bc of the wormhole tho haha”
i die i die inside my soul leaves my body i Die have you Seen Iron Man The First
Interesting how some army were like “dont criticize the chainsmokers we need to keep good face” when the chainsmokers legit made racist jokes against asians and said they basically pursed music just to get laid yet 2 weeks before bts’s grand debut on american tv and right after they announce a human rights campaign they crucify cupcakke for saying she wants to bang someone her age
I found my first ever therapist because he’d done couples counseling for my parents. I worked with him on and off for years. Later my parents and I all went to him for group family therapy (which, in retrospect, all this overlap should have raised more eyebrows at the time). Near the end of that group therapy period, I was preparing to move to Egypt (which also meant moving out of my parents’ place, where I’d moved back into partly to deal with all of the stuff all the therapy was for) and this therapist basically insisted that I wasn’t ready and wouldn’t be for a long time. That got me very upset because I’d been working hard on my mental and emotional state and ability to function for a solid year already, in addition to prior years of therapy before that, and I’d recently been diagnosed (by a different doctor) with a mood disorder, so like…I was never going to be all the way “ready,” you know. These things don’t get ~fixed.
Anyway at my very last one-on-one with him, just before I left for Egypt, he asked me how I was feeling about our therapy coming to an end, and I was like, “it’s been good, but I feel like this is the right time, I feel ready to go back into the world again and move forward in my life,” and he kept prodding me to express some kind of greater upset or sorrow at not seeing him anymore. Finally he kind of blew up and insisted that I didn’t know what I felt because I repressed my emotions too much and blah blah blah. I never saw or spoke to him again after that, and I’ve kind of hated the thought of him ever since because of the completely inappropriate nature of that incident and what it suggested about how he related to/felt about me, which, yuck.
Anyway out of the blue like five years later, he emailed me yesterday to wish me a happy birthday and tell me he was thinking of me “in the context of our therapy connection,” and asked me to pass his good wishes on to my parents. Which is insane because he could perfectly well contact them directly if he wanted to. I just…what the fuck, why do men exist