S T🜇 G A Z E R

active: april/may 2026

♡ status: low-activity/queue

♡ interests: robotics, bunnies, antiques, astronomy, cemeteries, vulture culture, depression glass, y2k era, fashion dolls, doll photography, witchcraft (practicing since est. 2013), vintage tea cups, fashion/historical fashion

♡ hobbies: illustration, crafting, photography, foraging, writing, poetry, embroidery, occasional video games, divination, journaling, ethical lock picking, doll restoration, beginner at python coding, sewing, makeup, skin care

Updated 04/2026

I have to say that

My therapist was probably the most inept man I ended up spending 12 years with

And what sucks knowing I was right and i think the mans was getting desperate to break me by telling me to quit seroquel cold turkey

And then youre on SNRI meds but the deficit of serotonin i had meant my meds were working against me. Without the S? Thats just adrenaline in a pill. With catalytic boosters at that

Given my experiences with many therapists I can confidently say me, myself, never doing therapy again

Because I dont think that was an accident

Pump me full of adrenaline and then fucking maneuver goal posts so I'm confused and think im failing week after week and this mans did break me but not the way he hoped.

Guilt pressure, as in using your shame as leverage to do something, and intentionally set up to fail so this mans could walk me on a leash.

But ya boy is not motivated by guilt it just chipped away at me until I became agoraphobic and I felt so fucking helpless

That i had a plan, a date, a song picked out to be the last thing I heard, accepting im nothing but a statistic that is bound to be homeless or institutionalized.

This man almost put me 6 feet under.

But here's to 208 days since the date i had planned it. 208 days I chose life. And that's my motivator. I want to see that number get higher. I want to go outside. And I will.