#but it's fucked up because while i DO have GAD my worst is *not* GAD.
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list of my stims and tics to show you you're not alone.
i probably pass for neurotypical in many environments i enter, and i realize the privilege that i have because of this, but that does not mean that i am neurotypical. i have been diagnosed with GAD, depression, OCD, gender dysphoria, ARFID, and am waiting on an autism diagnosis appt later this year.
my point of making this list is to help anyone feel less alone than they might have felt before. even if you can't see me stimming or ticcing, i am, and that means that anyone could be stimming or ticcing along with you and you might not notice. you are not alone.
but here's my current list of stims, tics, and echolalia <3
wiggling my toes, specifically trying to position the seam of my sock into a certain position
kicking my foot. i have a friend who makes fun of me for kicking her all the time, but she knows it's a tic and i can't help it and the teasing is all in good fun
adjusting how i'm sitting. this is a big one if i have a large temperature fluctuation!! (and i'm not talking like oh, i'm uncomfortable with how i'm sitting, i'll adjust type deal. i'm talking every two minutes im like swinging my knee over my shoulder to get a better position)
hitting my hip. this happens a lot when i am stressed, especially if it is due to my own mistake.
shaking out my hand. this is a calming action, typically one i do in loud environments or when i have to eat a food i don't feel comfortable eating. in severe cases, i shake both hands rather violently. (i once shook so hard i had to wear wrist brace for a week)
putting my hand in a fist and nodding it. as a child i was told this was sign language for yes, but i have no idea if that's accurate or not. i've had this stim since i was nine as a nonspeaking way of showing my extreme excitement for something.
twirling my hair, occasionally pulling it. i have curls and so while it looks like i'm just touching up some curls, it typically is a tic that happens when i am very uncomfortable.
scrunching up my face and shaking my head. this can range from looking like a cute anime sneeze to a straight up meltdown. this happens when i am trying to tell someone no and they do not listen to me.
chewing my fingernails and the skin around them. this is by far the worst stress reaction i have, but it's also become a grounding technique. i've done this ever since i was little to stop dissociating as the pain will typically pull me from that headspace.
squishing my stomach. this is associated with eating and feeling unhealthy.
repeating the phrase 'mish mish.' i saw it on a tumblr post about two months ago as a way someone was referring to misha and now i say it as a comfort phrase. if someone could tell me why i latched onto this specifically that would be great.
humming, but not a specific tune. i typically try to find the pitch of whatever is bothering me most (like if there's a tornado test siren) as a way to feel like i control that stimulus.
just making sounds. you all know the sounds i am talking about. thee sounds
but, by far, my biggest and most frequent tic is neck tensing. this one is borderline dangerous. first my neck tenses up and then my head will shake, just a little bit until i either a) manage to stop by some miracle or b) my neck grows so tense i get stuck in a little sideways tilt for about 30 minutes.
other general sensory issues i have:
clothing texture
overlapping noise
watching tv without subtitles. literally cannot do this
the texture of whatever i am standing on (i'm not kidding, i will literally only wear fuzzy socks bc of this)
body temperature
tastes and textures of foods
restraining or constricting physical touch (for example: hand on the shoulder? so chillin. hug? i think the fuck not)
END OF LIST
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straight up i think period-induced anxiety is the worst. like i have gad so im already anxious constantly but it normally settles at a not-great-but-manageable background hum if that makes sense? but when im on my period that shit goes from like a casual 4/10 to a fucking 14/10 sometimes.
ill be already a lil spooked about x or y thing on a normal day but when im on my period? i cant fucking sleep because im thinking about it and my chest is getting tight and i can feel my heart rate kick up and i roll over and get on my phone to distract myself and yet i know im distracting myself so the distraction doesnt really work and on and on until its three am and i pass tf out
its more manageable when im at work, right, because theres Stuff To Do at work. there a Job Tasks and then Job Distractions which are, in their own way, a different form of job task to me. is it the same fanfic i opened the night before to read but couldnt get through because my stupid, chemical deficient, hormone-addled brain wont let me focus on it? yes. is it different now because im at work and work is an entirely different vibe so now i can get through that story (and maybe a few others depending on length)? also yes!
anxiety example: my boss texted me last night, or i guess now that its gone past midnight would it be the night before last?, and said (frankly very ominously? like even without the anxiety disorder it would be spooky methinks) “call me before you go in tomorrow” and i was like “oh shit oh fuck what did i do i dont think i did anything i mean i had a weird hiccup with counting the drawer out at the end of the shift because i was doing 18.50 in my head instead if 17.50 so i had an overhang of a dollar and so maybe me messing with the dollar while i was trying to figure out what happened showed up and looked weird on the cameras and she saw it and she wants to talk to me about it???” and so that morning i did all my get-ready things and went back into my room, grabbed one of my stuffies for emotional support in the same way i do to make dentist appoints and shit, and bravely called my boss
and then. she said she just wanted to check on if it would be safe to have us open the store because of the snow that night. she lives in the next town over where it snowed a lot (7.5 inches. she stuck a ruler in it and sent me a picture later lol) and wanted to check on road conditions and just a general vibe on it f whether people would be out and about (it snowed in my town 3 inches. if im being generous. most of it melted off before noon. according to my boss, it continued to try and snow where she was on and off all day. what a wild difference like ten miles does to the weather!).
i got so so so scared over like a dollar worth of figured out before i left the building confusion that my boss wanting to just. be a good person. was like nowhere in my thought process.
related but only slightly: i got freaked tf out over one singular dollar and had that shit figured out before i went home for the day, whereas my stupid fucking coworker who is like technically my manager (i think if i had to put a title on her it would be like assistant manager but idk she doesnt have a title on our work schedule but shes above all the team lead kids but i also am that but i know technically shes my boss and she makes ~a dollar/hour more~ than i do so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) ALWAYS fucks up the drawers somehow. like our manager wants the end count on the drawer to be between $149.50-150.50. Why there is dont know but thats how it goes right? WRONG. every single time i come in and have to open a drawer after this lunatic has closed the night before, the drawers are over $150.50. it is not hard to stick another dollar into your bundle. drop the extra dollar. the drawer should not be at $150.75. drop the dollar. put it at $149.75 please god. this happened today on both drawers (small store; we only have two registers and only have shift overlaps on weekends and evenings so it works).
what Also happened today was that we have little paper slips that go into the drawers so you know what amount theyre supposed to be tallying out to when you count them next to know if everything is good or not. the paper said $150.65. i counted that fucker like six times, did the math on two different calculators three times to make sure it wasn’t me mis-hitting a decimal or something, and discovered it was actually at $155.65. five whole dollars. like im sure for a target thats not a big deal — still noticeable and youd absolutely get yelled at but like big picture and all — but for us thats a decent chunk! this woman simply does not double check anything she does regarding the cash drawers and it outrages me.
ALSO ALSO yesterday i counted out my drawer and it ended on like $150.30. within the boundaries. she put it in for the when the other closer came in. i left at 2:30, this other girl came in at 6:30, so somewhere in that four hours she recounted the drawer. we have a binder we write our numbers in for ~Accountability~. she wrote and initialed that it was at the $150.30 i counted it out to. this drawer, for the three or so hours its running that evening, handles no cash. written in the binder it has a big ol NO CASH written through in the Cash In and Deposited sections. the drawer closed at $150.75. where??? did that extra??? .45¢ come from??? and like what a weird amount too! thats not a two-quarter whoopsie, thats a whole mess of coins. four dimes and a nickel. a quarter and two dimes. other combinations im too tired to list. and like when i counted it that next morning it was at that $150.75. which is impressive, as the last time a NO CASH she wrote that had different starting and ending numbers, it turned out that there wasnt actually a difference, and that the original starting number was in fact still the amount in there. her ending number was also off by like .37¢ or something that time so like.
man. tell me you dont count out the registers properly without telling me you dont count them out properly.
anyway all of this is to say: periods suck and i hate them and i fucking wish i could sleep instead of worrying about what im currently worried about.
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Who I Am, And Why I Created This Blog.
TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Drug Overdose, Suicide, Psychotic Breaks.
Take a walk with me, let me show you around the mind of The Sad Hatter.
There's a lot going on in my head right now, and I feel like I'm on the precipice of something. I'm standing on a cliff's edge and I'm either going to plummet or I'm going to fly. It's been building inside me for a long time, and I can't contain it anymore. So here it is, here's me laid bare, because I need to say this, I need to put it into words. I need to purge it all. To try and make sense of all of this shit in my brain, I think it's time I organize it. I don't know where to begin, but I guess I start at the beginning and make use of the ability to edit.
Before you read this, please be aware of the trigger warnings. And please understand that this is the most honest and open I have been, I really am stripped bare in this piece of writing. It’s not at all pretty, and am I not guiltless in parts. This may well alter whatever opinion you have of me.
I guess the beginning is birth, right? But I don't want to rehash all that trauma, so let me speed through it. Twenty-Eight years ago I was born, violently. I'm serious, I ripped my way out of the womb, and tore that thing apart. I guess I can sort of understand why my mother couldn't love me after that was my first act, collapsing her womb. So let me speedrun this part of the story. Mum didn't want me, gave me to my dad who raised me as a single parent with the help of his parents, until he met my stepmother. Shockingly, she didn't want me either, but because she couldn't get rid of me she decided to physical and psychological torture was the next best thing.
When I was eleven years old I snapped and didn't want to put up with it anymore, so I wrote a goodbye note and then snuck into the medicine cabinet and took a bunch of pills. Spoiler alert, I didn't die. I did however end up in a children's home, cue more abuse, little bit of bullying and sexual assault etc.... I snapped again, but instead of turning my anger inwards, I became an absolute bastard. Ok, I still turned it inwards a bit, I had a lot of anger, and now I have a few hundred scars to prove it. But, it turns out that violence can beget violence, and I acted out in every possible way. Racked up a horrifying rap sheet, assault, vandalism, arson, and finally... GBH. I was supposed to get put in a secure unit (child prison – Scottish Edition) but I was always able to talk myself out of trouble.
See, I was this tiny little white girl with big sad eyes and a hell of a sob story, even at the bottom of the food chain I still had privilege. So instead of getting locked up, I just got sent to a different home. And here's the really messed up part, this home was better. The staff were nicer, and nobody hurt me. My behavior literally changed overnight. I went from being charged by the police on a weekly basis, to never getting so much as a pocket money sanction. I will never excuse my actions, nor condone them, but after years of guilt I finally realized that the bad things I did were in retaliation to a bad situation, and though I wasn’t acting like a good person, I’m not a bad person, just a messed up one.
I still refused to go to school though, because though I didn't yet know it at the time, I had severe social anxiety. I was smart, a little too smart to be honest, and I found myself thriving with a private tutor. When the time came to sit my exams, someone fucked up, and despite having record breaking test scores on the pre-exams, I never actually got to sit my standard grades (think SAT's – Scottish Edition). I'm still bitter about that. So by this point in the story, I'm 16, and legally an adult, too old for a children's home. I got turfed to a hostel, and the next few parts of the story are pretty fuzzy to me.
This is where my mental health really started to deteriorate. I bounced between homeless hostels and B&B's for a year or so, until I got a my first flat/apartment. By that point, I was utterly fucked in the head. I was blacking out frequently, for anywhere between a couple of minutes to three days. I would come back to myself in sometimes compromising positions, and once there was blood. A lot of blood, splashed all over the walls. Then there was the time I suddenly found myself standing in the kitchen, about to plunge a knife into my own chest.
Nobody ever did tell me what the hell that was about. Or maybe they did and I just... forgot? But because I was extremely suicidal, a doctor finally decided to do something, and the police and the paramedics came to my door to take me to the psychiatric hospital. I spent ten months there while I cycled through various anti-psychotics and anti-depressants, and was 'rehabilitated into society'. The second I was out, I made the worst decision I have ever made in my life. If I can give you one piece of advice, one lesson to take from my shitshow of a life, it's this: Don't move hundreds of miles away to be with the guy you met online while you were having a psychotic break.
I've never really thought of myself as a victim, but I guess I'm the only one who saw it that way. Ben, that was his name, Ben was a monster, and I didn't know it until it was too late. He never hit me, never lifted a hand to me, he never had to. He could put a knife in my hand and make me hurt myself for his entertainment. I had told him everything, so he knew exactly how to break me down, how to make me want to bleed. He locked me in a house and used me up. And when I had enough, and tried to break free of him, he would just tell the police I was mentally ill and they would smile sympathetically and give me back to him.
But then my dad had a breakdown. My dad, who when he found out what my stepmother was doing to me, buried his head in the sand and packed my little suitcase for me. I hadn't spoken to him in a while until he reached out from the same psychiatric ward I had not long vacated. He had cracked under the realization that I had never lied about her, and the guilt broke him apart. I could have hated him, if it had happened a few years earlier then I would have. But I had experienced enough of the world to learn a few things, like how easily it is to fuck up, and that no matter how strong you are, you aren't immune to monsters. The truth was he was as much a victim of her evil as I was. She had manipulated him, played with his head, used his insecurities against him. So I helped him through his issues, the way I wished someone had helped me. That doesn't really make me a good person, it just makes me human.
But my dad got better, and found his footing. And when he did, he realized something wasn't right with me, and I told him the truth about Ben. My dad had left me to suffer at the hands of an abuser once before, and he wasn't going to allow it to happen again. He came and got me, and he took me home. He moved me in with him, gave me his bed and slept on the couch. After a couple of months, he helped me get my own place.
And that's the happy ending, right? All the trauma was over, I was safe, that's where the story should end. Right? I bet you're not naive enough to believe that, but I sure as hell was. I thought I would recover and that everything would be ok. I thought that with safety, there would come the chance to heal. I thought my wounds would scab over, and I would have my scars but at least I would be able to move without bleeding out. But that's not how trauma works. I had two decades worth of trauma, abuse, and hell.
I just... faded. I didn't crack, I didn't crumble, I didn't break, I just stopped. For five years I sat in one room of my home, drowning inside myself. Last year I got handed a lifeline, and now I live somewhere better. I'm not really allowed to live independently so I actually live in kind of retirement village of all places. I have my own house, but it's got intercoms and emergency cords everywhere, I get checked on daily by on on-site worker. And I'm trying to get better, I really am. It's just not that easy.
There's more to the whole story that I maybe should have put in, like the fact that my mother was a drug addict when she was pregnant with me, and that may have been the reason some of my organs didn't properly form and/or formed wrong. My lung split in half when I was a baby, and parts of my stomach are missing. Or that my mother is full on batshit insane. I could have had a perfect childhood and I still would have been mentally ill. Hell, I was seeing psychologists at five years old. Take my sketchy genetics, add twenty years of severe traumas, and well... I'm a little fucked up. Because a lot of medical conditions use acronyms, my full list of diagnosis looks like I'm collecting the fucking alphabet.
I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Agoraphobia. I also have a Pulmonary Sequestration, Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, the stomach and lung issues. Immune Hemolytic Anemia, I'm basically allergic to my own blood. Plus, ya know, my liver recently decided to just fucking nope out, the pissy lil bitch is failing. I also may or may not have cancer, I don't know because I pussied out of the tests. At this point I am a walking, decaying corpse that is held together by glitter glue and bitterness.
So... why exactly am I writing this? And why am I even considering posting this? I mean, my problems aren't as bad as some other people's. We've all got shit to deal with, especially in 2020. The whole world is falling apart, so what right do I have to sit here pouting and pouring my problems out? Well, for a start, I guess this is my blog, I can post whatever, and it's up to everyone else if they read it.
So here it is, you have the backstory, so here's what it's all been leading up to.
I'm struggling. Like, really struggling. I'm stuck on this cliff, and I want off, any way I can. Whether I fall or fly, I just want free. I can't live like this anymore, because I can't breathe.
The fucking agonizing duality of being socially anxious and too easily overstimulated, and yet feeling fucking empty inside if you're not surrounded by action and noise. The world is too noisy for my brain, but my brain is too noisy for the world. I get antsy if I'm not doing at least a thousand different tasks, but I get overwhelmed if I try to do anything at all. It leads to short bursts of mania, followed by weeks of depression. But underneath all of that, under all the dramatic showboating, and the dark humor, under all the bravado... I'm really just sad.
Years ago, when I first came up with the moniker "The Sad Hatter", I said it was because I may be mad, but my madness was born of sadness. I'm just sad. I carry it with me where my heart should be. So I named myself Sad, and I put on the hat, and I wore my sadness like armor, turned it into an act, and made a spectacle of it. "I'm The Sad Hatter, and I'm mentally ill but that's alright, I'm going to be just fine!" I told you all I had my issues, and I'll come close to opening up about how bad those issues are, I'll give little chunks of information at intermittent intervals, and then two hours later I'll act like it never happened. I'll admit I was close to killing myself, and then two days later I'll post dog photo's and act like I'm all better.
I'm writing this because I'm sad. And tomorrow, I'll act like I'm not. But when I waver again, I'll come back here and I'll open up again. And along the way, maybe you're reading this and realizing you aren't alone in feeling overwhelmed. Maybe you're realizing you're not the only one who isn't healing neatly and in a timely manner. Maybe you're reading this and gaining some insight into the struggles someone you care about is facing. Maybe my opening up is can help somebody else, I really hope so, but I know it's helping one person. It's helping me.
This blog, it's about living with myself. It's about living with The Sad Hatter.
#trigger warnings#mental health#anxiety#borderline personality disorder#adhd#domestic abuse#child abuse#self harm#violence#just all the trigger warnings
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Fake AF
You and Tom star in a movie together, and unfortunately for you that means people think you’re together. But what if there’s really something there?
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“Your hand is sweaty!” You exclaimed, a little grossed out, snatching your hand away from Tom’s. He just chuckled, wiping his palm on his jeans.
“I did that on purpose,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at you as you walked into the hotel lobby. Thankfully, reporters and fans weren’t trying to get in. The hotel you were staying at was a lot more secure than most of them and actually had security on the outside. Tom pressed the elevator button and you were heading back to your suite after a long, thirteen hour day of press and interviews. You and Tom were doing this thing, at the request of your agents, where you were pretending to date because it looked good for the movie, and then deny every chance you got so that people would keep waiting and watching.
And it wasn’t like you and Tom weren’t friends, because you were. Good friends. Really good friends. It was the third time you’d worked together over the years, and your families were friends, too. In fact, your parents believed you were dating. All of your siblings made fun of the two of you, always trying to convince you that you actually did like each other. The entire world thought you were dating, but you knew that Tom would literally never hold your hand even if you paid him to. The two of you fought like siblings, even if you pretended to be lovers. And then the movie PR people had insisted that you get a suite together, even if you wouldn’t share a room, to keep up appearances.
“Just remember you were the one who took it,” you said to him. He grinned and raced you to the bathroom, shutting himself in so you couldn’t get in. “Tom! You said I could have the first shower!”
“Well, I lied!” You groaned and crossed your arms, stomping away. Tom came out a few minutes later, after you’d changed clothes and were lounging on the couch, eating out of a bag of chips that one of the interviewers gad given you that afternoon.
“Want some?” You asked, offering the freshly showered Tom a chip. He shook his head. “Your loss.”
“Let’s see what the agents are saying, said they sent us an email for tomorrow.” Tom sat down beside you, a little closer than he usually would unless you were in public, and took his laptop from the coffee table. He opened his email account and started scrolling through the same email that you had gotten a few minutes ago. It looked like you were doing another set of lengthy interviews tomorrow at the studio’s headquarters downtown, but then you were doing a what’s in the box, a small break to make an appearance at a restaurant, and then a late night talk show before being released in time for dinner.
“So what’s the plan for the show?” You asked him, looking up and down at him. He’d spent most nights at whatever hotel you were at’s gym and was getting more fit than you’d seen him in years – his abs were showing through his tight, slightly wet white t-shirt. He was gorgeous, you couldn’t lie, and you wouldn’t. When people asked what you thought, you always said the truth. You never lied, and you hoped he wouldn’t lie about you either. But you were both not dating, and that you never lied about. It was just that Tom liked to play around – he called you stupid pet names in public, he would hold your hand, he would sleep on your shoulder when you were waiting for planes where people could take pictures of you, and you lived in the same house when you were both in London so it already looked like you lived together. Part of you wanted to think that it wasn’t PR, that maybe he did like you, but you weren’t going to do anything about it.
“What do you mean?”
“Deny, deny, deny?” It took him a second but he understood, nodding.
“I dunno. Do you think they’ll ask?”
“They always ask.”
“Well, we said until after press and the premiere, so I guess we deny. But I’ll still try to find a way to make it look otherwise.”
“Like what?”
“Why do I have to have all the answers? It’ll come to me like it always does.” You elbowed him.
“I’m kidding.”
“We’ll figure it out.” You stood up, wrapping the chips up and clipping the bag back, and then walked into your room. “Good night, I guess.”
“Yeah, g’night, Tommy.” He smiled to himself as he watched you walk into your bedroom wearing one of his old t-shirts that you’d found in the laundry room and refused to give back. You didn’t even know it was his. He would never admit it, but he liked how it looked on you, even if he teased you because it was twice your size and the shoulders were far too big. You tried to forget about it, turning on some TV while you were trying to fall asleep. Eventually you did and Tom shut your door, then went to his own room.
The next morning you ordered breakfast in, as usual, and fought over the last cup of syrup for your pancakes. Tom wasn’t any different than usual, giving you absolutely no indication that he was thinking about anything because you usually just assumed he wasn’t. Everyone was outside again, and Tom just herded you to the car and walked behind you.
The first couple of interviews were fine – nobody asked you about your relationship and you didn’t say anything about it. The two of you went to lunch, where the only seats were right beside each other, and you listened to your agents talk to you both about how important it was that you keep pretending. You just rolled your eyes at each other when they weren’t looking, which made Tom laugh, and the two of you snuck back to the set of your next interview as soon as you could.
“But what if it’s a gross animal or something? Or a banana? Tommy, I hate bananas,” you said, vaguely aware that the cameras were rolling. Tom was standing in front of you, looking inside of what was in the box you were supposed to be reaching your hands into, and he was laughing. You had no idea what it was because they’d made you leave the room to put the box down.
“It’s not either one of those things, I promise,” he said with a giggle.
“You’re lying!”
“I’m not lying. Just, just touch it, darling, everything will be fine.” You could feel your face heating up as you started to put your hands near the box. You didn’t know why the nickname was suddenly getting you. He called everyone darling, everybody knew that. But why was it making you have a fucking hot flash? You touched whatever it was inside, your eyebrows raising, and you stood back for a second.
“Is it fabric?”
“What counts as fabric?” Tom asked you.
“Oh, my God, Tom, what is it?” He giggled again and took your arm, pulling you to the other side of the box to look at it. It was just a shirt that had been folded up in a ball. “Oh.”
“See! I told you it was fine.” You jerked your arm away from him and pushed him toward the back of the box for his round. You did three more rounds, allowing the producers to figure out what they liked best, and then you headed back to the hotel to get ready for the talk show.
On the way there, you were an idiot and opened your phone. You and Tom were both trending on twitter for pictures of the two of you sitting together at lunch. People were mostly just saying you were cute together, but there were a couple of threads saying that you’d been together far longer than people thought. They really thought you two had been together since before the movie even started just because you’d been to an event at the same time? Okay, you thought. Whatever.
“Aww, is someone nervous?” Tom asked you as he watched you scrolling through your phone, right before you were supposed to go inside. “Are you really that nervous?”
“Yes!” You answered, messing up the hair he’d worked for the past half an hour on in the bathroom. “What if something happens?”
“You’re an actor. I’m an actor. We’re fantastic at bullshitting. It’s literally in our job descriptions.” You sighed. “I promise, if things start going haywire, I’ll change the subject.”
“Fine.” The car pulled up to the studio entrance and the two of you were brought inside. You met with the host, changed into the clothes you’d picked out, and then they were giving the two of you microphones backstage.
“Everything will be fine,” Tom insisted as he watched you shake your leg. They were setting up cameras closer to the couch and your arms were crossed, looking out at the audience, and you were only getting more and more nervous as time went on. Tom did his best to break you out of your shell, and eventually you were roped into playing some truth or dare game.
“Alright, Thomas,” the host said to Tom with a grin on his face. “Truth.” Tom grinned.
“Oh, no,” he said, “what do you have on me?”
“Alright. What’s your favorite thing about Y/n, and your least favorite thing about Y/n?” Tom looked at you, grinning.
“In the spirit of the game, I’m starting with my least favorite first,” he said, looking right at you. The heat rose to your face again and you let your hair fall in front of your face, trying not to let anyone see. Hopefully the cameras wouldn’t be able to see your face. “She does this thing. She shakes her leg when she gets nervous, and I’ll put my hand down or I’ll push her or something just to make her stop and she doesn’t even notice it and she’ll act like she’s not even doing it. It’s the worst.”
“I do not!” You defended.
“You’re literally doing it now!” There was a laugh track added, but the laughing you were doing wasn’t fake. You couldn’t help it. That was really what he hated the most about you?
“And then what you like the most?” You crossed your arms, waiting for Tom. He looked like he was having a difficult time so you elbowed him.
“Definitely not that,” he said, elbowing you back. “She’s just a really good person, all around. But she’s really good at cheering me up. Whatever I’m feeling, she’s always good at pulling me out of it and getting me focused on what matters again.” The crowd gave you an aww and you couldn’t help but look at him and smile. You thought you were the absolute worst at making him feel better, but really it was the opposite. So what else was he completely and totally lying about?
The rest of the show went fine. That was the last question asked about the two of you, except that if you were together, which you denied again, because you weren’t. You weren’t together, no matter how good at it the two of you seemed to be. But it made you wonder; what if you were supposed to be? What if you really could be endgame, like so many people had said? What if…
You sighed and took your earrings out just as Tom walked back into the suite, holding the Chinese food he’d gotten from the place a block down. You finished taking your makeup off before walking back out in the same shirt you were wearing the night before.
“Did you get extra soy sauce?” You asked. He held up a set of five or six packets, sliding them over to where you sat. He turned on the TV and the two of you started watching some terrible romantic comedy, laughing as it went on. Your legs extended into his lap as you ate and you didn’t even think about it. You finally put the food down and Tom went to go put everything in the fridge.
“I was so fucking starving,” Tom said as he walked back over to you. He sat beside you, a little closer this time. You tried not to look at him any differently than you had before, but it was hard. It was hard when he had a smile on his face and his hair was curly from his shower and he was smiling that stupid smile.
“Yeah,” you responded, a little too late for comfort, and he turned to you.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Tom?”
“Hm?” He took a sip of the soda he’d gotten, turning his eyes to you.
“Do you like me?”
“Of course I like you, you’re my best friend. Do you feel okay?” He extended a hand to feel your forehead, but you put your own hand out to stop it.
“I mean… What if our agents were right? What if there’s something here and we’re just too stupid to see it?” He seemed to think about it for a second, shrugging.
“Do you think there is?”
“I don’t know,” you replied. “It’s just so confusing.” He shrugged.
“Then let’s make it not confusing.”
“What?” Now you were completely and totally confused, and you cocked your head. He sighed, moving closer to you, and to your surprise, he kissed you. You were too stunned to do anything, absolutely anything, except shut your eyes. It felt weird, but good. But weird. Odd. Like it was something you shouldn’t be doing.
“Okay, that was…” He said as soon as he pulled away from you. He gave you a little smile, but that turned into a laugh. And then you were laughing.
“Weird?” You asked. He nodded.
“Yeah, that was a little weird,” he agreed.
“We should’ve started with a date. Like, a real date.”
“Yeah. Let’s start with that.” With slightly disgusted faces, you went back to what you were watching, and tried to forget about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so gross in the future, but right now… ew.
A/N: I’m sorry this is so short and slightly meandering! This may get a re-write eventually, but I loved writing this still!
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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about mental health, mine and globally, lately. About how treatment isn’t linear. About how you can think you’re doing really well because it’s better than it was, and you’re still bad enough you don’t realize it can be better. I’ve been thinking about all the ways being sick for so long can fuck you up even when you aren’t as actively sick. I’ve been thinking about how hard it is to admit, “I’m happy but being sad for so long made me prone to encouraging my own sadness.” I’ve been thinking about the stuff I did so often it became habitual and remains habitual. Bad habits I developed from 16 years of thinking I had GAD and depression but not bipolar and being overmedicated for those two, throwing me into severe anhedonia most of the time:
A) thinking I can’t keep friends so I don’t try (have I not spoken to you in a few days? Might as well not try, I’m clearly the worst);
B) feeling completely discardable because I have zero to offer other people;
C) feeling like an empty shell and therefore offering nothing in return;
D) a level of insecurity that sometimes doesn’t align with the level of insecurity I think I feel (that doesn’t make any sense, but it’s like I intellectually know I’m more insecure than I feel?);
E) needing attention and reassurance constantly because of all of the above and then knowing I become overwhelming because of it and isolating myself because of the anxiety over being that person;
F) giving up my hobbies if I’m too tired for them for a a little while because I clearly will never have the energy for them ever again because that was the pattern for more than half my life;
G) not wanting people to really get to know me because I’m kind of the worst and if people get close they’ll realize how sad and small I am.
It’s worth noting I’m actually a very happy person now. I have energy most of the time, when I make myself actually sleep instead of playing games on my phone or writing or reading too late. I do enjoy things and my brain functions better now. I’m also extremely aware of my bad habits and I try to curb them but it’s hard.
And like. I see you all. The people that are in a bad place now and that have habits that feel like the only reality possible. I see you if you’re doing better and you still carry the weight of the demons that consumed you for so long. I see you if you’ve made a lot of progress and you fear falling back into that darkness.
You’re valid and you’re wonderful and I hope you find your happiness because we all deserve it. 💛💜🧡💚💙❤️
#tw mental health#the road to wellness#happiness isnt a linear path#it isnt always easy to be happy#even when you are#tw depression#tw bipolar#its hard to accept happiness when youre scared to lose it#its even harder to accept that enjoyment is real#happiness is real
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“I Watched the Artemis Fowl Movie and It Made Me Very Upset” Liveblog!
So I decided I had to subject myself to this movie despite being Extremely Aware that it’s a massive pile of firey garbage. It was about as painful as expected, so I liveblogged to keep my sanity. Here’s basically what happened in my head while I was watching:
Josh Diggums: I feel so bad for Josh Gad's voice because it's painfully obvious they just didn't want Olaf showing up so they forced him into some terrible Bale-Batman voice that keeps cracking
why is this movie taking itself so seriously
Book Artemis: eternally unathletic dweeb
Movie Artemis: SURFING MASTER
the fuck, Branagh
THIS VOICE IS SO DAMN BAD, JOSH PLEASE STOP TALKING
okay Artemis is appropriately a little shit for EXACTLY ONE SCENE
FUCK OFF WITH FRIDGING THE MOM, BRANAGH
"ur mom's dead and ur dad's gone so ur a little shit" WHAT A GREAT COUNSELOR
fuck's sake
Book Artemis: immediately falls off whatever this hover thing is
COLIN FARRELL. SEXY MAN.
I ALMOST FORGIVE THEM FOR BRINGING HIM BACK EARLY
AND..... KNOWING ABOUT MAGIC
SDJFKSDF
WHATEVER
I WAS PREPARED FOR THIS
this voice is still terrible, Josh. I'm sorry
this kid is a pretty good actor
"all i really want is to believe in you" that was actually well-delivered
"Arty"
<sobbing>
OKAY IT'S NOT ACCORDING TO THE BOOK BUT FUCK ME THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS WELL DONE
i desperately need Butler to show up soon tho
I SPOKE TOO SOON
"DOMOVOI" ??!!?? YOU FUCKS
why
are his eyes
fucking ELECTRIC BLUE
HIS LITERAL FUKDFSUCING NAME IN THE BOOKS IS 'BUTLER' IT'S PART OF BEING AN INSANELY GOOD SECRET AGENT GUARDIAN HE'S NOT AN ACTUFL FUCKING BUTLER AND LITERALLY NO ONE EVER CALLS HIM "THE BUTLER" BUT HIS NAME IS BUTLER BECAUSE HIS REAL NAME IS SECRET HE'S FUCKING SECURITY FUCKING DID YOU READ THIS FUCKING BOOK SERIES AT ALL BRANAGH OR DID YOU JUSTDSJFKLDSHFSD:LFSEFAGH
i'm sorry
Butler is my absolute favorite character of the entire damn series and they fucking
can't even get OOOONNNNNEEEEEEEEE CHARACTER CORRECT
SCREAMS
did they think calling him "Butler" would be weird because they cast a black guy?????
AGAIN WHY WITH THE FUCKING ELECTRIC BLUE CONTACTS THEY'RE SO OBVIOUSLY FAKE IT LOOKS SO BAD. IF YOU MAKE THE DECISION TO CAST AN AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN JUST FUCKING OWN THAT HE HAS DARK EYES DON'T DO THIS
THE "OWL STAR"???? REALLY???? WHY NOT FOWL STAR
WHY
NOT
IT'S JUST SUCH AN ARBITRARY DUMBASS CHANGE IT MAKES NO SENSE
PLEASE DID I JUST MISUNDERSTAND THE REPORTER MAN
DID THE CAPTIONS JUST MISUNDERSTAND HIM?????
NOPE IT'S LITERALLY THE O W L S T A R
fuck off
i'm sorry
stuff like that just bothers me a lot
it makes ABSOLUTELY no sense to change it
Fowl Star made sense bECAUSE IT'S OWNED BY ARTEMIS FOWL
artemis has a lot more emotions than i remember him having
i will not forgive them for destroying the Butler/Artemis relationship in favor of a Dad they fucking fridge in the first half hour of the movie
oh boy nursery rhymes as codes
GROUNDBREAKING
i think the fairies would have something to say about you hiding their own shit from them, MISTER SENIOR
it's still a bad voice, Josh, I'm so sorry
okay Haven is pretty nice
"Haven" not "Haven City"
pretty sure
holly being a 13 year old girl is disconcerting
that was mentioned in a review
they're supposed to be Child-Sized not ACTUAL CHILDREN
also "small person = higher pitched voice" is such a stupid trope please stop
i like the Being diversity around the city
like lots of different types of humanoids
josh desperately wants to do the Olaf voice
i'm so sorry Josh
okay aside from the shit voice Diggums is pretty good
lol Cudgeon's already in jail
i
okay then
i know this is Opal Koboi
meh
i hate her in the books so they can fuck her up all they want
judi dench is batman too i guess
how many cigs you smoke judi root
OH BOY HOLLY HAS MISSING DADDY ISSUES TOO
fucking shit
"you're 84" and you look like a fUCKING THIRTEEN YEAR OLD
such bad choices
every time they say "Domovoi" i--
HISDFHSDHFH
JULIET
SHE'S
HIS
FUCKING
NIECE?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????
SDFJLS:DKF FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK YYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
FUCK YOU
FUCK
FUCK
FUCK YOU KENNETH BRANAGH
NO
NO
NO
NO
SHE'S
HIS
FUCKING
SISTER
HIS BABY SISTER HE LOVES AND CARES FOR EVEN MORE THAN ARTEMIS AND THAT'S A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT RELATIONSHIP THAN UNCLE AND NIECE
HOW COULD YOU LITERALLY DESTROY EVERYTHING ABOUT BUTLER AND STILL SLEEP AT NIGHT
<vomits into the sun>
eoin colfer i hope you made so much money off of this SHITSTACK
(genuinely tho that's literally the only consolation; now he can write more Good Books)
Juliet is cute but i know about all she does is make sandwiches
so fuck this
judi dench is Good
foaly is Okay
why's he wearing clothes tho
the chutes are a lot more... open than expected
BEECHWOOD SHORT THE TRAITOR
FUCK OFF
WHY IS HOLLY’S CHARACTER DEFINED BY HER FUCKING FATHER
THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE AN OUTCOME THAN I EVEN EXPECTED GIVEN THEY EVISCERATED HER CHARACTER'S DRIVE BY MAKING THE L.E.P. ALREADY HAVE FEMALE OFFICERS AND COMMANDERS
"get out cudgeon before i throw you out" okay they got Root completely right at least
aside from making him a her
but that's okay
because it's Judi Dench
awwwww happy flying scene bUT HOLLY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE SHIELDED GOt DAMN
“any update?” "yes. i'm freezing" amazing, Butler
i mean dOmOvOi
HOLLY YOU'RE STILL NOT SHIELDED
CGI isn't too bad in this but honestly that's not impressive anymore
awwwww cute wedding scene
troll is about as ugly as possible
LOL JUST FUCKING THROW TIME FREEZE UP LIKE IT'S NOTHING
OKAY
LOL HOLLY GO DEAL WITH THE TROLL DON'T FOCUS ON ONE SMALL CHILD
THAT'S NOT HOW A TIME FREEZE WORKS
I
i mean it's COOL
i love the little Men in Green zipping around
but it doesn't make ANY sense
LOL SO WHY DO THE PEOPLE THINK THE PLACE IS TRASHED
lol gently floating troll
Hollyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Judi Root continues to be amazing
ok tbf Opal Koboi would be after the Aculos if it existed
OP MacGuffin plots are so tired tho like really Branagh
i love the wings on her suit
ARTEMIS WHEN DID YOU GET TO THE TREE
holly ur a bad 84-year-old officer
LOL CUDGEON IS RIGHT ON
AND JUDI ROOT CONTINUES TO BE
"Not Happy!" lol wat
who wrote that bit of dialogue and said "yes this a perfectly good thing to have her say when she wakes up in a cage"
"mesmerism"
boy i love these exposition dump convos between Mr. Sr. and Arty
LOL "most human beings are afraid of gluten, how do you think they'd handle goblins" is a great line
out of touch, but still funny
...why does the time freeze take forever to generate now when you did it in TWO SECONDS BEFORE
calm down holly damn
foaly's very pretty
sO DID THEY FREEZE THE *ENTIRE WORLD*????????
I THOUGHT THE POINT WAS TO FREEZE THINGS INSIDE SO YOU HAVE MOONLIGHT LONGER
AND
AND
whatever
i love this fucking ARMY coming out of literally everywhere
"TOP OF THE MORNIN'" OH MY FUCKING GOODNESS
whole movie is worth it
for that line
i love that they're entirely in green
and no one ever Shields
ever
they mentioned Shields once but NO ONE IS SHIELDED
BUTLER WOULD NEVER LET ARTEMIS INTO A FIGHT
SCREAMS
"TAKE THE SHOT"
WHY IS THE TIME FREEZE SO EASILY DESTABILIZED
FOALY
ARE YOU TELLING ME NO ONE HAS EVER SHOT YOUR FUCKING ENORMOUS DEVICE
omg no U GAVE OPAL KOBOI LEGITIMATE REASONS FOR DOING WHAT SHE'S DOING
YOU GAVE HER A SAD FRUSTRATING BACKSTORY
SHE'S SUPPOSED TO BE AN ARROGANT SELF-SERVING BITCH AND NOTHING ELSE
TWENTY SEVEN MINUTES??????
hOW DID ARTEMIS KNOW ABOUT MULCH DIGGUMS SPECIFICALLY
lol that is 100% a completely inhumane prison what the fuck, fairies
why does Holly have human music
well i'm glad we didn't have to watch mulch almost eat a dude's head
"My father was kidnapped."
"My father is dead."
"Can I trust you?"
"You'll have to."
BUT WHY
WHAT IS THIS DIALOGUE
WHAT IS THIS CHARACTER PROGRESSION
THERE's NO REASON TO TRUST HER
OR TO NEED TO TRUST HER
THIS IS COMPLETELY UNEARNED AND STUPID
glad holly's entire character REVOLVES AROUND A MAN NOW, BRANAGH
LOL THEY JUST DIDN'T GIVE ROOT A FIRST NAME???
JUDI ROOT CONFIRMED
"listen to us, grunting at each other like a pair of hippos with a throat infection" LMAO
i hope that was Josh Gad improv
LOL HE JUST FUCKING DESTROYS EVERYTHING IN HIS WAY WHILE TUNNELING
YOU DIDN'T EVEN REALLY TUNNEL IN, MULCH
HOW DID YOU COME OUT OF A PAINTING
DO THEY HAVE PAINTINGS IN A BASEMENT???
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SHEETROCK OR WHATEVER
IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO EASY TO JUST
UGH
FOLLOW THE BOOK
COME ON
MULCH YOU ARE THE WORST BURGLAR
"what would your parents be" THEY'D BE CENTAURS MULCH
is... is Mulch on the second floor
HE TUNNELED THROUGH THE WALL ONTO THE SECOND FLOOR
artemis... just.. lets holly out
ok cool
LOL HIS NOSE HAIRS GROW AND MOVE LIKE TENTACLES
stupid and... funny? i guess
at least Cudgeon is the piece of shit he is in the book lol
oh boy troll time
BUTER WOULD NEVER LET MULCH DIGGUMS PICKPOCKET HIM
"jam all magic" OMFG THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE
BUTLER WOULD NEVER LET ARTEMIS FACE DOWN A FUCKING TROLL
LOL THEY JUST FIRE THE TROLL LIKE A BULLET
A TROLL-ET
DOMOVOI YOU ARE COMPLETELY USELESS WHAT THE FUCK
i wonder if kids even like this movie
omg butler couldn't even jump
i
i don't understand
he literally DOESN'T HELP AT ALL
IT'S HIS WHOLE THING
IS BEING ABLE TO KICK ASS
FUCKING COME ON BRANAGH
yeah fuck you branagh
are... are the fairies just DYING TO THE TIME FREEZE COLLAPSE???
"goodbye my friend. i'm sorry i was FUCKING USELESS"
branagh you're trying to activate my feelings with this Sad Death Scene(TM) but i am IMPERVIOUS because artemis has had NO RELATIONSHIP WHATSOEVER WITH THIS """DOMOVOI"""
COOL HE'S BACK NOW I’M SO GLAD ACTUAL FULL ON DEATH HAS ZERO CONSEQUENCES NOW THANKS TO OP FAIRY MAGIC
WHAT GREAT WRITING THIS IS
"i didn't cry did i" FUCK OFF
WHY IS IT SO DANGEROUS WHEN THE TIME FREEZE ENDS
WHY IS YOUR TECH SO SHITTY, FOALY
TIME FREEZES AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE DANGEROUS TO THE OCCUPANTS
THAT GOES AGAINST ALL OF FAIRY RULES
...okay and then it just ends..........?
Domovoi: "you have to try!"
Artemis: "i can't, tho"
Domovoi: "it's too dangerous!"
WHAT IS THIS DIALOGUE
WHO WROTE THIS ABSOLUTE DRIVEL
"the aculos for my father"
THE L.E.P. DOESN'T EVEN HAVE YOUR FATHER YOU ABSOLUTE DOOF
holly how do u know how to do this
the... the aculos is just the fucking Book?
i feel slapped in the face
she just recites the words and. and.
whatever
whatever
i'm done
GO FIND YOUR DAD WHO'S MAGICALLY BACK
WHY WOULD HE BE IN THE BED ARTEMIS
YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A GENIUS
this girl who plays Holly cannot act
i'm sorry girl
MAGICALLY BACK DAD
HOORAY HOLLY'S CHARACTER CONTINUES TO BE DEFINED BY HER FATHER
FUCK
YOU
WRITERS
AND BRANAGH
BUTLER WOULD NEVER CRY, DOMOVOI
i like the cool earpiece they gave Judi Root to maybe? disguise her hearing aid?
Haven does look pretty cool
too much water above tho it’s not Atlantis guys come on
"i'm a criminal mastermind" LITERALLY WHEN DID YOU SHOW ANY SORT OF MASTERMIND BEHAVIOR OR CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR
BESIDES BRIEFLY KIDNAPPING HOLLY AND THEN IMMEDIATELY LETTING HER OUT
LMAO THAT LAST SHOT OF JULIET JUST LOOKING EXCITEDLY OUT OF THE WINDOW AT THE HELICOPTER WHILE EVERYONE LEAVES HER BEHIND
WHAT'S THE POINT OF THAT EVEN
THIS POOR GIRL YOU’RE JUST LEAVING HER ALONE
WOW THIS PRISON/INTERROGATION PLACE HAS LIKE
NO SECURITY
HI HOLLY WHY ARE YOU HERE??????
THIS WHOLE ENDING IS JUST THE STUPID CAP ON TOP OF A STUPID SUNDAE
i need to go listen to the books again now
#artemis fowl#artemis fowl movie#liveblog#spoilers#flaming hot garbage#disney seriously who the FUCK did you make this movie for#cause it sure wasn't the fans
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#65 Beauty and the Beast (2017)
I’m burning through my Disney+ subscription, and instead of this forever cursing my drafts section until I work my way through the other lower movies on this list, you’re getting this one now.
Beauty and the Beast was my favorite Disney movie as a child. Belle was smart, she read a lot, and she was a bit of an outcast, which were my only identifiers as a wee lass (other than being obnoxious and constantly having tangled hair). I'm going to bet that this movie is the reason so many girls my age went through a Paris phase in their tween years. I did take 3 years of high school French that I have almost no memory of.
The original's animation is gorgeous, the songs by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman are iconic, and the romance between two people who learn how to trust and support each other... it's probably the reason why I've stayed in terrible relationships for way too long. My father took me to see this movie in theaters when I was 6, and it is the first movie I remember crying during out of sadness. There I was, while the Beast was dying, trying to hide the fact tears were streaming down my face because I didn't want my dad to see I was crying and not take me to see another movie again. When they adapted it for Broadway, I listened to that soundtrack over and over... "Home" was my favorite song, and the end still makes me cry like a 6-year-old. It's perfect.
I had attempted to watch this remake once before. I hated it so much I started drinking, and then peaced out so hard when Lumiere started moving that I had to watch Moana to normalize myself. Visually, this movie is what happens when the Uncanny Valley turns into the fucking Grand Canyon. Little did I know that this movie gets worse... much worse... as it goes on, and that Stephen Chbosky, the author and director of The Perks of Being a Wallflower made it this way. A man who wrote one of my most beloved novels and movie adaptations helped in creating this narrative monstrosity, and that, out of all of this, was the deepest cut of all.
I'm not rehashing the plot, because I have too much to say about why this remake shouldn't exist, and I’m going to guess you’ve either seen the movie or are familiar with this almost 300-year-old story. It took the source material and just murdered it in its attempts to update it. I'm going to start positive and work toward the biggest issue I had with it, because I'm currently writing angry and that never turns out well for me.
Things I liked:
This may be controversial, but I did like Josh Gad's performance as LeFou. I'm not saying what LeFou did made any sense (he suddenly was upset Gaston was making things up again?), but as an actor, Josh Gad was working with what he had, and I think he owned it.
Chip's introduction to Maurice - I actually paused the movie because I was laughing so hard.
The piano playing the funeral march when it tackled LeFou.
When Mrs. Potts said Chip smelled good when he turned back into a little boy. It was a cute little detail.
The guillotine joke in "Be Our Guest" and the Les Miserables barricade reference.
I actually thought Cogsworth was adorable for being a CGI nightmare. I don't know how much of my opinion of this was influenced by the voice of Ian McKellan.
I really liked the costumes, except for Belle's gown, which was definitely a downgrade. Micarah articulated the issues with it perfectly.
Celine Dion singing the credits song was a nice homage to her cover of "Beauty and the Beast", although it sucks she's associated with this nightmare of a remake.
Little quibbles:
Whatever they did to Emma Watson’s voice made her sound like a robot.
Almost all the CGI, especially the Beast, was completely unsettling. The wardrobe was the worst of it, holy shit.
They went out of their way to explain plot holes like "Why don't the villagers remember the castle?" or “Why is it snowing when it looks like the middle of summer in the village?” or "How did Belle get the Beast up on that horse?" when none of that really matters to the overall narrative.
The reaction to Belle teaching a little girl how to read was unbelievably eye-roll inducing. Lindsay Ellis' video on this is so fucking good, watch it now - You don't have to read the rest of my ramblings if you do. #beastforshe
Ariana Grande slurring her way through "Beauty and the Beast".
It was nice to see Maurice updated from a manic inventor to a level-headed, sweet, competent, reserved man who treats his daughter like an equal. Clock-maker Maurice that actually takes care of Belle reads better to me, and I like how they had him wander into the garden to get a rose for her - it's a nice callback to the original story. The problem with doing this, however, is it negates the "crazy old Maurice" narrative that plays heavily into why the villagers don't believe his tale of the Beast in the first place. If Kevin Kline, a put-together man (up until this point), wandered into the tavern looking disheveled and conveying a story about his daughter being kidnapped, I'd be like, "Shit, Maurice, what did you see?!". But instead, the story goes out of its way to put him at the mercy of Gaston, and shoehorn in an attempted murder plot to really turn everyone against him - it's bizarre.
Medium quibbles:
Gaston went from being a well-liked, athletically inclined dude to a literal predator and murderer. Belle was a beautiful status symbol in the original movie, but she becomes literal game to Gaston in the remake, as he refers to her as prey, or something to be hunted. When Maurice gets in-between him and Belle, Gaston punches him in the face and leaves him out in the forest to be eaten by wolves?! What does this add to the story?! Gaston wasn't right for Belle because he wasn't kind and didn't intellectually stimulate her, but that nuance is wasted on the remake, turning him into a full-blown vengeful villain that will literally kill Belle's family to get what he wants.
The first time Belle is brought to her room, there is this long panning shot showing off how nice it is, and she comments, in wonder, how she thinks its beautiful. They had the fucking nerve to play “Home” in the background of this scene, completely ignoring the original context of the song is sadness and despair. But go off, I guess...
The Big Enchilada:
This is where my notes went from eh????? to WHAT THE FUCK, so be prepared. How someone with enough emotional maturity to write Perks can make the Beast into such an abusive asshole is so fucking beyond me, I'm still trying to process it.
Beauty and the Beast is a romance at heart, which you would never know by watching this movie, as Belle and the Beast have so little chemistry it's painful. This might be because the Beast is abusive to Belle at every turn in the beginning, making the pivot from enemies to lovers so completely unbelievable it's shocking. The remake is already at a deficit as the CGI Beast is terrifying, in contrast with the cartoon, which has the ability to make the Beast cuddly with big eyes and an expressive face. But they still decide to take all of the Beast's inner conflict out of the remake, remove his agency completely out of the relationship with Belle, and make him supremely unlikable in every interaction they have together.
There are a few scenes that illustrate this, starting with the dinner invitation scene:
In the original, the Beast sees the pain he's inflicted by pulling Belle away from her father, and offers her a tour of the castle and a bedroom instead of a prison cell. He also invites her to dine with him, although he could have gone about it wayyyy better. He confides in his staff that she is beautiful, and he realizes she can break the spell, but he doesn't know how to appeal to her. His staff give him tips on how to be charming and not so intimidating. He is receptive, but overwhelmed, because he hasn't had to interact with any other human in years. When he discovers she doesn't plan on eating with him, his anger takes over because she refused his hospitality, and he's a king, so how dare she? The staff try to help him appear genteel, cause again, HE expressed interest in being appealing to her. When this doesn't immediately work, he throws a massive tantrum and tells them not to feed her. When he looks at Belle later in the mirror, he hears the direct result of his actions as Belle is ranting to the wardrobe. He laments she'll never see him as a human because his actions have pushed her away.
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In the remake, it's not the Beast’s idea to give Belle a room, or to invite her to dinner - it is his staff's intervening that puts him in that situation in the first place. He doesn't even want to get to know her because she's a daughter of a thief, and that's somehow below his current social status of recluse animal/human hybrid. His staff persuade him to give Belle a chance as they're all invested in breaking the spell because they'll turn into furniture if they don't! They give him tips to manipulate her into opening the door, he tries it, it fails spectacularly, he gets angry and he leaves - but not before calling his staff idiots... I appreciate he's not as physically violent in this version, but he just acts like he couldn’t be bothered with Belle. He does spy on her from the mirror, but she looks bewildered. He doesn't know if she's lonely, or missing her father, or what... There's no indication that how he treated her in that moment has pushed her further away. Then he just stares at the rose like, "Well, shit, this ticking time bomb is still ticking!". It's completely self-focused.
Oh, and then Mrs. Potts tries to handwave the Beast’s behavior away with, "People say a lot of things in anger. It is our choice whether or not to listen," which, excuse me, WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?! You are in charge of how to interpret someone's actions, and you could just choose to ignore when they are being abusive?? I CAN'T. She also tries to gaslight Belle into seeing how great the Beast is when Belle has had zero positive interactions with the dude since she's been there. The wardrobe brings it up in the original, but this is after he's offered Belle a room and invited her to dinner himself, not by his staff...
The west wing scene and the Beast turning into less of a dick:
In the original, the Beast himself tells Belle not to go to the west wing. Her curiosity brings her there, because she wants to understand more about him and what he is hiding. She's invading his space knowing full well that she is invading his space. When she is discovered, she's about to fuck around with something that is literally tied with the Beast's livelihood. His anger is disproportionate, but justified, and you see that he immediately regrets his reaction after she runs away from him. That’s why he goes after her. Belle watches him risk his life to save her even though she broke a promise to him, so she decides to repay the favor by bringing him back. They fight while she's trying to clean his wound, and they're both right in their perspectives, but the Beast acknowledges that yes, his temper got the best of him - he realized that the moment she bolted. Belle then rewards his selfless act by thanking him, which sets his entire transformation in motion.
He gives her the library because he expresses interest in doing something to make her happy, and he vocalizes he's falling in love with her. He's delighted by her reaction. During the ballroom scene, the way he looks at her, you can see he absolutely adores her. He asks, "Are you happy here with me?" because he loves her, and her well-being is the most important thing.
In the remake, the staff tell Belle not to got to the west wing because it's a storage area. She wanders over there anyway, for whatever fucking reason, and takes a glance at the rose behind the glass. The Beast finds her looking at it and gets mad at her, even though he never told her not to visit him in the west wing, and she didn't fuck around with the rose. When she runs away, he doesn't even look like he cares. There is no reason for him to go after her, and there is no reason for her to help him back to the castle other than the plot told them to do it. She doesn't help him with his wounds, and the staff are the ones to thank her for returning him. She even asks the staff why the fuck they care about him, because he's such an asshole. They justify his behavior because he had a cruel father, and damn themselves to his fate because they didn't stop a literal monarch from raising his son. Belle continues to take care of him because she pities him? He repays her kindness by insulting her taste in literature.
He doesn't even show her the library because he knows she likes books, he does it because he wants her to read "better" books. Then he makes one joke about not reading Greek and THAT IS WHAT MAKES BELLE SWOON. THE FUCKING GREEK BOOK JOKE. I mean, I sort of get it, I fell in love with my ex because he made a bread pun, but he hadn't been continually abusive to me up until that point. Belle starts to read out loud to him, and that's supposed to be the event that incentives the Beast to be better? Even while Belle is singing about how much he's changed (he hasn't), he throws a boulder of snow in her face. The cherry on top of this sundae is his stoic question after they dance, "It's foolish, I suppose, for a creature like me to hope that one day he might earn your affection?" which not only sounds like complement fishing, it is primarily motivated by breaking the curse! Only after she gives an indifferent answer does he ask if she'd be happy at the castle.
Oh god, and the death scene is cut off in the middle because we have to watch 2 minutes of the staff members permanently turning into furniture, which, like, I wouldn't think they'd want to castrate the emotional climax of the movie, but this whole thing is an exercise on how to fuck something already good up.
This movie fails so spectacularly at this basic love story, I can't begin to justify its existence. I wouldn't recommend this to anybody. If you want to watch new Alan Menkin content, watch Galavant, because this movie just pissed me off.
It was bold of Disney to end it with a beastiality joke, though.
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okay. i’m about to do it. i’m gonna watch the af movie before i promptly discontinue my d+ subscription. liveblog below in a readmore.
how could i dread something this much, i had to stop twice just during the disney castle song
unfortunately the fowl manor looks almost exactly how i pictured it as a child
literally cannot look at josh gad without remembering how thirsty a certain subset of this fandom was for his mulch diggums. i am torn equally between “what is UP with you are yall OKAY” and “i can see it” which is the bi burden
the what?? the oculus?? the WEAPON?????
this script and direction is so shit
this isn’t how mulch diggums's dialogue goes (but uhhhh that deep raspy voice can kinda get it but w/e it’s fine)
THE NERVE OF THEM TO INTRODUCE ARTEMIS FOWL ABOUT TO GO SURFING. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE BLUE FUCK. THIS IS NOT A SURFING CHILD. ARTEMIS BARELY KNOWS WHAT THE SUN IS. ARTEMIS FOWL II DOES NOT GO IN THE SUN MUCH LESS THE SAND OR THE WATER. YOU CAN’T WEAR TAILORED SUITS IN THE SAND OR THE WATER. I’M SO ANGRY. THE WORST POSSIBLE DECISION. I HATE THIS SO MUCH.
voice over >.>>>>
ferdia shaw is precious and has the Look and he will get no hate from me. just a kid doing his best with a shitty script and direction.
THEY FUCKING KILLED ANGELINE??????? FUCK YOU
oh sure. artemis fowl i was barely necessary in the first book, just an absence in the household, while angeline was actually present and an active influence on artemis (in a certain extent) but noooooooooooooooooooooooo we need to pump up af the first and fridge angeline because we’re disney and life’s a fucking nightmare
i feel like this child therapist is terrible and bad and that was obvious from the fact that his therapy room has glass walls into his waiting room. what the actual very fuck.
hoverboard and fucking jeans i’m just---------
“BEING AT HOME WITH HIS DAD” I HATE THIS LITERALLY SO MUCH
at 8 minutes 33 seconds i’m this close to quitting. i can’t bear this. this is fucking horrendous.
fuck this movie and its insistence on making af the first a good dad and erasing butler’s paramount importance in artemis’s life
“what i really want...............is to believe in you” god poor ferdia couldn’t keep from looking embarrassed to have delivered that line. this is so disgusting who wrote this script
WHERE THE HELL IS DOMOVOI BUTLER. WHERE IS HE. I WANT TO SEE HIM.
ferdia shaw looks like he’ll grow up to play claudio in a much ado adaptation one day.
“you could call him dom, domovoi"--NO!! NO YOU FUCKING COULDN’T YOU WASTRELS YOU BUFFOONS THAT IS FALSE
“where is he, dom” oh i hate this so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much
“he’s not a criminal! he’s my dad!” shut the FUCK up scriptwriters i hate this so much. i mean. at what point do i stop watching? at what point is it pointless? it’s not artemis fowl. it’s not even bad fanfic. it’s a different story with a different main character and it’s all worse. like............why keep watching if it’s just a movie that’s not artemis fowl but which i know very well?
this is not a liveblog because i quit 20 minutes in. i can’t muster up the energy and i have better things to do than watch artemis get handed all of fairy lore on a silver platter instead of him figuring it all out himself. i hate it! it’s bad. its real real bad. i hate it. it’s cursed and not in a fun funky fresh way. anyway. liveblog over. disney+ subscription canceled.
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752
Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend?
No, my girlfriend is super laidback and in fact she’s always the one encouraging me to go out and try new stuff with other people.
Have you ever written a love letter to someone as a joke?
No but that doesn’t sound like a very nice thing to do either.
How many true heartbreaks have you had in your lifetime?
In a romantic sense, once. I’ve had my heart crushed in other ways as well, like when a loved one dies.
Who last grabbed your ass?
It’s definitely Gab but I don’t remember when that was. It’s been a while.
Have you ever cut yourself?
Yeah man, I was big on that from 2016-2017. If I remember correctly I had a short lapse last year too, which is disappointing.
Do you get a 'Good Morning' text from someone every day?
Not everyday but often enough. I like them; I do feel like I need greetings like those more so these days since I haven’t gotten to see anyone other than my family for two months now.
Do you have any gay family members?
I honestly think I do but my family is so secretive about everything, from family drama to who has a terminal illness to sexual orientation. I will probably be the first one to publicly come out, if everything goes right in the new few months.
Where did you get the shirt you are wearing?
I got it from one of the independent clothing stores in Feliz. They sold all these really cute tiny halter tops for only ₱80 each ($1.60)?!?!?! which was wild so I went ahead and got like four, and one of them is what I’m wearing at the moment. I’m so desperate to be outside, or at least, feel like I’m outside, so I’ve taken to wearing the clothes I’d wear in public right at home loooool.
Do any of your friends dislike each other?
Yes lmao it’s hilarious. Andrew (who’s part of the newer wave of members in our org) has never been able to win over my OG org friends – Jo, Kate, Aya – so it gets super awkward when both ~generations~ get together in org parties. Since I’m everyone’s friend I always have to divide my time between groups or tables so that I get to spend time with everyone :(
Who is your last missed call from?
It was from Angela’s mom, who called on the morning of my birthday to greet me. I feel bad about missing the call but you have to know that I hate getting calls from anyone other than Gabie, so when I woke up to my phone ringing I just rolled over to the other side and let the call pass. I did thank her profusely once I was properly up though.
Do you feel like everything is falling apart around you?
This was me last night. As a journalism major, I felt very helpless seeing ABS-CBN get off the air at 7:47 PM and even more helpless when I saw so many people rejoicing over their shutdown, with absolutely no regard for the 11,000 employees who have just lost their jobs. Times have been hard enough in the country because of the government’s poor response to the virus, and now one of our biggest sources of news and information has also been silenced. It was enough to make me shut down last night and I just couldn’t do anything, couldn’t think properly, couldn’t even talk to my girlfriend.
Was your first kiss romantic?
I’ve always thought it had been more awkward, but when we got to talking about it in the past my girlfriend apparently found it very romantic and sweet.
Do you miss any of your ex's right now?
No ex.
Have you ever overdosed on anything?
I have not.
What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship?
Look two questions above.
Who was the last person to text you before you went to bed?
No one texted me before bed but I did get a text upon waking up this morning; it was Andrew. I’m guessing they saw that I deactivated all my social media last night because they texted their concern for me and told me they were gonna be there for me if I needed anyone to talk to.
How many chances do you tend to give people before enough is enough?
One.
Do you know anybody whose last name is a color?
Answered this in a survey but yeah, Maroon and Black.
What are you most likely to go to jail for?
Ooh I dunno, I’m honestly such a goody two shoes skskksks. Does answering back to the police count? That’s the legit worst thing I imagine myself doing.
Where was your last kiss?
Near my car. I was leaving Gabie’s place and she walked me to my car, and I gave her a kiss before I left.
Who was your date to Prom?
My cousin. I didn’t give a shit about prom during my junior year since I was super infatuated with Gabie then, I was already seeing her, and I still had no guy friends, but because prom in my school was mandatory attendance I just pulled my favorite cousin to be with me that night.
Do you still talk to your first love?
Yeah, I’m still with her to this day.
Whose wedding did you go to first?
I honestly don’t remember since I was gotten as flower girl so many times as a toddler. I do have photos of being a flower girl when I was 3 and at least, that’s the oldest-documented wedding I was in. I don’t know whose it was, but it must have been a very distant relative since I only went with my paternal grandparents and absolutely no one else from my family, not even my parents lol.
When is the last time you went to the beach?
Nasugbu, August 2019.
Do you ever feel like life is going by too fast?
For sure. April was a fucking blur.
Are you ashamed of anyone you've dated in the past?
No but my friends have always made me feel like not dating Mike was a bullet dodged. I dunno what to think of it though as I barely knew/know him.
What about anyone you've been friends with?
Mostly no, since former friends were important to me at some point and to be ashamed of them is to throw away the good times we did have, but I do prefer to dissociate myself from Athenna. Her behavior has turned so rotten in college and she badmouthed Angela and made her miserable for a very long time; it’s like I have no clue who she is now. Apparently people in her school also think she’s a fucking weirdo, so that has just made me all the more confused about what’s happened to her through the years.
Have you ever made out with someone in a pool?
In the sea, yes. Not in a pool since there’s always kids around.
What are you doing this weekend?
Same thing I’ve been doing the last 51 days I guess: have late breakfast, take several surveys, maybe take a nap, continue my Spanish lessons, play with my dog, take more surveys, maybe meet some progress on my thesis if I feel mentally capable to work on it.
Who’s the last person that slept over your house?
I think it was Gabie. I’m really the only family member that brings over someone at our place for the night haha, and it’s usually Gabie.
Do you still talk to the last person you kissed?
Yes.
Have you ever kissed someone with a tongue ring?
No but this did remind me of when I used to have a big crush on CM Punk, who used to have a lip ring hahahahahaha.
Is it hard for you to get over a lover?
As a demi, I imagine it would be very hard as it would also be losing a best friend.
Have you ever had a best friend of the opposite sex?
I wouldn’t say that. I have a couple of close friends though.
Was your mom ever a stripper?
No.
Do you regret any of the relationships you were in?
A little bit. I wish my first relationship with Gabie ended months sooner than it actually did. The last few months of it were just us beating around the bush and physically avoiding it each other in school; it was a huge waste of time.
Have you ever tried making someone jealous?
Yes, that’s what I did when we ^ finally broke up. By the time we broke up I had long accepted that the relationship wasn’t working and I was already doing a little fine, and I was well enough to do stuff to make her see that she was missing out. It’s high school pettiness so I’ve forgiven myself for it lol.
Would you ever get a boob job?
I’ve definitely thought about it but idk. I’ll have to be rich enough to want to allot money for plastic surgery because it’s not very essential for me.
Did your last relationship end because of you or the other person?
Because of her.
Who is the last person you flirted with?
Just my girlfriend.
Whos the most racist person you know?
Probably my mom. She has said some eyeroll-worthy stuff about the Chinese throughout the lockdown and I remember she initially had a negative reaction to my cousin Joelle when she introduced us to her black fiancé. I do know she’s a bit scared of me because I wouldn’t hesitate to call her out on her racism, so thankfully her statements have lessened over the years.
Do people ever compliment your eyes?
Not really. It’s not a strong suit.
Have you ever lied to your boyfriend/girlfriend?
Eh, just about small stuff like lying about not being hungry.
When is the last time you saw one of your ex's?
Gabie was my ex at one point I guess? I last saw her March 7th.
Who was the last person you hung out with?
Also Gabie. She was the last non-family member I saw before the whole world fell apart, basically lol.
Which one of your ex's do you hate the most?
Would you be upset if you caught your boyfriend looking at porn?
No. I never understood why it’s a big deal for a lot of couples and I’d genuinely like to hear a good reason why. We don’t watch porn together but Gab and I would definitely watch some on our own time and it hasn’t affected our relationship or sex life at all.
Out of everyone you kissed, give me the initials of the best kisser?
I’ve only kissed one person and she kisses amazingly, so GAD.
Do you regret a lot of things you did in the past?
No. Just some small stuff here and there.
How many people have you kissed this year?
One.
How many people has your best friend had sex with?
One.
How long have you known the last person you kissed?
I have technically known her since 2002, but we didn’t know each other and become friends until 2011.
Do you think one of your friends is a slut?
No. One of my former acquaintances was and I’m so not saying that in a judgy way lmao she can fuck whoever she wants whenever she wants, but I don’t really talk to her anymore + she’s no longer single.
When is your birthday?
April 21st.
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Feeling like some underlying anxiety needs to get out so here we go...
Hi. I have generalized anxiety disorder. Usually it’s behaving just fine and usually I get along with it. I just overly worry about things, I overthink and I can have minor anxiety attacks because of that. Sometimes I get bigger anxiety attacks but usually I’m able to get over them on my own. Sometimes I’m not. However, yesterday evening and last night were the worst in a long time.
I was triggered by something and my violent intrusive thoughts came back. In my case it means I start to worry about going insane and that I would do something terrible and later regret it. Something that I would never ever want to do! And I don’t actually think I would even be capable of anything like that which is why it makes it so terrifying because I’m literally afraid of falling into a psychosis. And I have never had a psychosis. And I don’t know if it’s just my mind shattering into pieces or my GAD just acting out, making me worried that I would go insane. (If you think of it, I’ve never been actually sane tho :D)
I was able to push these intrusive thoughts away by avoiding the thing that triggered me and I tried to do something else instead but since they are intrusive thoughts, they still keep popping up. I hate the images they create into my head.
Eventually I got super tired and decided to go to sleep and while I was in my bed, I felt it again. The anxiety attack taking over. At some point I had some sort of chronic anxiety and I was in that kind of state 24/7 but I’m pretty sure it was because I was quitting antidepressants and I was eating those with a very low dose, trying to get rid of them. And I had had something “traumatic” happen to me too (first time getting actual suicidal thoughts but in form of intrusive thoughts which meant I just felt so terrible I wanted it to stop and at the same time being terrified of doing something terrible because I still did not want to die! I have never wanted to die, I’ve more of been afraid of it. The reason for this was me just being under so much stress and not eating nor drinking enough + I had been lowering the dose of the meds so drastically at the same time that my brains could not take it all.) which probably caused the anxiety to kinda stick.
I’m actually really scared of the feeling of not feeling good and wanting everything to stop because I literally have no idea what to do with that and it causes me even more anxiety. It’s terrible. I have had these moments several times in my life and they have been really traumatizing. I am someone who cannot tolerate not feeling good, which is probably stupid because life isn’t that perfect ever? Anyway, I always start to feed it with something, basically “self-medicate”, usually literally feeding aka the first thing I start to do when I start feeling bad is to start eating. That often helps, maybe because food gives us endorphines anyway, but also because I often link it to low blood sugar which can has very similar symptoms to anxiety and I have had a hard time telling them apart too, having really bad obsession with my blood sugar levels (I don’t have diabetes, that’s why I call it “mental diabetes”) and I’m pretty sure I have even gained weight because of eating for “low blood sugar” which was just chronic anxiety or me getting anxiety from the idea of not having access to food in case of low-blood sugar aka anxiety attack. When I started to carry around these “fructose pills” and realized that I can eat whenever I want and it’s no one else’s business if I eat something in public (which is sometimes actually really hard with social anxiety, especially in quiet environments), no one even cares! So just having these with me (I literally have them everywhere, even in my bathroom if I’d need them while in the shower) helped so much that I don’t really even need them. It helps to know I have access to something that will increase my blood sugar levels if needed prevents the anxiety attacks and I don’t need to constantly eat because I’d be afraid of not being able to eat.
So since you know how I often eat when I have anxiety and it often helps too, the worst type of anxiety is what does not go away with food. Because then I’m again in this place: not feeling good but not having any idea how to feel good again! I’m afraid of this because... can you get traumas from your own old defeated depression? Anyway, I’m always afraid of the depression coming back. It was terrible time and I was feeling so terrible so often and that’s why I’m super scared of having to face those feels again. That all ended when I was 17, sitting in the kitchen, again feeling so terrible. I still can remember having low blood sugar - this time probablly FOR REAL because I barely ever ate nor slept because I was never hungry and sleeping felt like a waste of time, so I lost weight but I did not see that either. Until one day I looked at the mirror and realized I was quite skinny and I got so bad case of anxiety that I felt like eating fucking everything from the house because I had always been so determined that I, I do not have an eating disorder! And I did not understand when people said I have lost weight and my parents even were worried that I would have an eating disorder. But I was just so... I knew about eating disorders, I never felt fat and I never felt like losing weight so I was always really shocked and annoyed by people saying that because I had no problems with my self-esteem whatsoever. And so when I realized I had been losing weight, I got so scared by that and I literally wanted to gain weight in one night and I started obsessively eat that night because it was so damn scary to see myself be that skinny. I don’t really think I was underweight tho, but I sure was malnourished since I ate basically never. And I was drinking lots of coffee because it made me laugh.
But yeah, I remember that one night when I was again have one of these “low blood sugar episodes” where I would just feel sick and sit in the kitchen or toilet meanwhile feeling like vomiting and trying to eat something to feel better again. And I had one of these anxiety attacks too and I was just staring at the shadows on the rug and I remember to thinking to myself how I started to feel the old depression to come back. I could feel it approaching and the same stuff from couple of years earlier coming through. And I just thought myself that this has to stop, I can’t live like this anymore. And the next day I told my mom that I’m not feeling good anymore and I need to see a doctor and that I agree on even trying on antidepressants for this, I just need this feeling to be gone. And so did happen too, I ate them for 5 years until I quit at the age of 22.
I have that feeling still so strongly in my memory that I’m always afraid of it coming back. It’s just so terrifying feeling because I feel totally helpless and that I can no longer help myself. That is why I always start to have anxiety attacks when I don’t eat properly. I’m sure this was one of the reasons to trigger last night’s episode because I have been eating so badly cos I have had no energy nor inspiration for cooking. My sleeping schedule is again doing whatever the fuck it wants and I’m again not taking care of myself. Every time this happens that I don’t shower, at properly or start to stop care about my sleeping habits, I start to fall into that dark place. Or not really fall into there, but this kind of behaviour reminds me of it so much I start having anxiety attacks until I get my shit together, go to shower and eventually cook a real meal. I think I got my low blood sugar anxiety only so that I remember to eat. As a kid I always had trouble knowing when I need to eat because I either was never hungry or I “felt hungry” all the time but had no appetite, so I usually ate when I was offered food but I never ate because I would be hungry. A few times I ate because I started shaking and knew to tell my mom I need to eat. But usually I just ate because there was lunch or dinner or because it was a habit for me to get a snak (usually toast) when I came home from school and watch tv while eating. So the food anxiety in my head is like the adult telling me that you haven’t been eating in a while, here, take food.
I often think how good it is that I am a teetotaler. I’m very sure that if I ever drank alcohol, I would be an alcoholic. I once saw on TV how someone was talking about his alcoholism and that he drinks because it makes him numb. And I realized that it’s really good I’ve never been into alcohol because I would probably self-medicate too so strongly I’d probably never be sober because I’d just try to make myself numb. In a way this is also interesting because so many people become numb because of their depression, in my case I definitely am not numb, I just feel shit and I am aware of that and I’d rather be numb than feel that! But I guess if you feel shit for long enough, you eventually will get used to it and become numb... in a way that happened to me too but sometimes the awful feeling woke up anyway and made me feel like I want it to go away. Maybe me being highly sensitive person just makes that feel even stronger and therefore unbearable, idk... (I don’t have depression right now, but I definitely have had and I feel like I am one of those people who could fall back into depression any minute and that’s why I try to take care of myself to prevent that from happening. My depression is also a secretive type, just like the one when I was 17, I thought it went away but I was telling myself so and I had a hidden depression for 1,5 years before I figured it out. And still only after starting with the meds I realized how I was NOT fine!)
Last night I felt that again and my thought are always “no, not this shit again!!!” and I actually fell asleep but I just felt the anxiety raging all over in my body. A few hours later I woke up to go to the toilet and I was also covered in sweat and my blanket and everything were so so so wet. At that moment I actually felt a lot better tho, calmer and when I went back to sleep, I felt like I had “dreamed away” that anxiety. Anyway, I woke up again couple of hours again but the anxiety was back, maybe also low blood sugar (the real one this time) as I was shaking and feeling nauseous. I’m still feeling slightly nauseous and weird even tho I have been eating, but writing REALLY helps me with these things every time. I guess the intrusive thoughts are not that strong anymore which is great, so maybe this is just the aftermath anxiety. Sometimes it can last for a very long time. The last time I had this was when a few years ago MCR uploaded all the uncut versions of their music videos to their YT channel and I was watching those and boom, suddenly they triggered my anxiety because I was watching their dvd literally 24/7, it was on always when I was awake, because I used it as a background noise to hide away my own anxiety. So seeing those videos be on repeat triggered anxiety that lasted for like a few weeks :D But I got over it. (And I still love MCR, they helped me with so many things, I wouldn’t get triggered by the videos if they did not help me!!!)
But I need to shower now, finally. I’m meeting with the neuropsychiatric trainer in an hour so at least I can talk about this with someone. But I can already feel a lot calmer now, even tho I have some small snippets of anxiety going around the whole time but it might also be because I realized that the Apulanta gig will already be on NEXT FRIDAY.
#mcrmadness' random stuff#personal#anxiety#generalized anxiety disorder#gad#depression#tw intrusive thoughts
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---------- OOC.
hi im mitch : ) im a big f*king idiot, too. let me preface this by saying it is currently uhhhhhh 6 AM est and i still haven’t slept yet !!! i thunk i started this around 10 PM last night but im slow. really slow. everything about this ??? a hot mess ™ . it isn’t going to make a lick of sense !! but thanks for stopping by sdkjsadklsd. anywhomst im mitch, i’m twenty, in the est, and im ready to rock and roll buckaroo. my guy here? he’s an idiot. but he’s my idiot. therefore, i have to love him. the history is long ( i know because i started there first ) so ill make a little tl;dr with some simplified notes on him. i think that covers ??? everything ?? so far ? im always down to plot in the DMs or i have discord at oovoo javer #4855 mwuah !!
---------- APPLICATION.
( jack lowden, twenty-seven, cismale, he/him ) – have you seen bennett sharpe, the financial strategy student around oxford yet? i hear they can be conforming and convivial, but those who know them insist they’re reminded of beige turtlenecks and plaid blazers, eraser shavings on an old oak desk, and eagerly belting out the latest tunes when they’re around. rumor has it that due to stress, he had a breakdown in high school that put him a year behind his peers and his family has tried to cover it up. is it true? only time will tell… ( mitch, twenty, she/her, est )
---------- HISTORY.
THEY’D ALMOST STRUCK GOLD with bennett sharpe. smart enough not to have to buy your way into college, but not smart enough for his peers to despise him. the gusto of an entertainer and the charm of a damn good politician ------------ but they’d never been quite able to buff out that chip on his shoulder.
the sharpe’s were an interesting case. too good to slum it with the poor folk but not rich enough to always be able to sit at the BIG table. a family who paved their way in law and then literature. blood in the supreme courts and in those scandelous little novels that housewives sipped a glass of wine over. at least that had been his mother’s contribution to the family fortune ----- a wonderful dinner conversation.
--------- “ oh mother, what raunchy debauchery are you slaving away at now ? “
bennett was the oldest of three ( followed by one girl and then another boy ). he was a good son. would have been a real golden child to anyone else --- well, with a little love, care & patience. normal family things. from a young age he had a memory unmatched and a love of strategy games. a youth who loved to test his brain. which was fine and dandy, however, it wasn’t quite leading up to being a judge. he wasn’t following in his family’s footsteps. he’d gotten a little... off track. he had just been better with numbers. money crunching. equations. it had been a tough pill for his family to swallow but swallow it they would. afterall, it hadn’t been their biggest concern when it came to their oldest son.
it had always been there. carefully covered up with the occasional “ he’ll grow out of it “ or “ stop it. nothing is wrong. “ maybe that had been the real giveaway to why he’d never amount to anything big. “ he’s FRAIL. no spine. “ a good and competent doctor would have had him diagnosed and taken care of. seventeen and he’s missing classes but not for normal rich kid things. the world’s bigger and scarier than it ever was. college and a future right around the corner, parental pressure, it snowballs until it is all too much. one day of important testing and bennett sharpe never shows. he had not been on campus at all. sometimes when the panic became too much, it did him well to distract his mind ---- go outside. count the blades of grass or the birds in the sky. breathe. it’s what he had done that afternoon. left and tried to sate his mind. but nothing had done it for him that day. nothing to cure him. the world? bleak. the future? uncertain. weapy and tore down. the little devil on his shoulder named ‘ desperation ‘. he needed out. his parents phone and the message becomes crystal clear...
--------- “ i can’t do this. “
so he’d ‘” turned tail and ran “, branded some sort of listless coward. he didn’t know what was wrong with himself, nor did his parents. the only thing they were certain of was that they would not have a son coming apart at the seams. they’d grilled him. no one was going to take him seriously or he’d never find himself in any important position if he was always going to go chicken. a breakdown never looked good. it did not matter to the rich or the poor, one would still be ridiculed. but corporations wanted someone steely, confident, put-together. all the things bennett was not becoming. so they’d contacted his school - wrote it off as a vacation. save face. “ oh i got bored. decided to go to switzerland instead ! couldn’t miss it, you see a chance of a lifetime had just presented itself to me, so.... “. however, no donations or pleading on his parents part were going to make up lost time. bennett was held back a year for being unable to complete the necessary testing and exams. oh how he would have to sell that vacation. but it hadn’t quite been a vacation, had it? long days trying to put together the pieces. some days were easier than others. some time to try and buff out that chip. the chip remained.
years down the line and one enrolment to oxford and he’s a lot better than where he started. he’s found ways to cope. some good. some bad. he’s more indendent than ever which has led him to branch out and take care of himself. no watchful eye of mother and father needed. perhaps that’s why he now has therapy pamphlets tucked away inside untouched textbooks. away from prying eyes. just an idea, maybe one day he would water it and watch it grow. go see someone. anyone. now he’s cheery. lively. a staple at parties. heeds his father’s advice and brushes shoulders with the right people. finds himself in the right places. the future is looking bright. oxford may soon to be a closed chapter in his life, but the years had been good to him. until, well, they weren’t.
the riot club had been for the best. extravagant. a little bit of chasing the finer things in life. that had worked out just well for him. death had never been a thought --- or at least it was always kept at a distance. never upclose or personal. a relative here or there, miles away, he’d barely given it a thought. a funeral and they were gone. parties and death were not supposed to intermingle. maybe that was why it was so jarring. the world is a little heavier, bearing down on him once more. he tries not to pay it any mind when he has to excuse himself twice more than usual for a smoke outside. brushes off clammy hands like they’re nothing. accidents happened. he’d find solace in that word --------- accident.
---------- SPARKNOTES / TL;DR.
voted most likely to be that annoying fuck outside your dorm at 3 am who doesn’t know how to turn down the volume
dumb enough to try anything once
despite some tough times he’s just ??? full of life ??? life is a PARTY. and he’s making the most of it now, thank you very much.
“ are you not ENTERTAINED ? “
he’s not the worst,,, but he’s not the best. yknow?
nice enough to get drunk and talk to just about anyone but snobby enough that you bet he’s going to make some insensitive comments. it’s that -- not rich rich enough to be totally elite, but not hurting enough to be able to sympathize with people who aren’t bringing in a f*ck ton of money.
his family ( on his dad’s side ) has always been involved in law. typically judges, and some who have made it to be top dog in their fields. his mother is a writer who does rather well. she’s published a handful of book and his father has also published law-related books which brings in money. his dad is pretty high up in the field but bennett’s got his suspicions that some of the income might just be payoffs. i wouldn’t envision his father as being someone hard to be bought. he might want to grill his son for being spineless or weakwilled but i’d imagine that’s just a family trait inherited.
which uhh brings me to my next point. bennett can be a bit of a follower. there’s not a whole lot of “NO” in him. which may also hurt his relationships because he’s not going to stand against injustices or anything if it is going to put him in harm’s way. which may help perpetuate that rich or snobby idea surrounding him because he’s not about to stand up for the common folk if they’re being belittled for their threads or schooling.sure, he might talk to them here or there in the right occasion but he’s not going to stand for them. he’s sitting pretty. he’s not looking to ruin that.
essentially he’s not going to have your back unless it benefits him.
as far as his secret goes, i think he’s worried about the stigma around mental health and how he’d be perceived but i think a lot more has to do with his family. because he knows they won’t be happy if it gets out or if something further happens. they just ain’t supportive in that department, chief. but he doesn’t want to be cut off or anything and not just because he’d be worried about who was putting money in his pockets. he just doesn’t want to stir the pot any further, even though he should really seek help. i kind of vagued on it but i’d say he has gad ( generalized anxiety disorder ).
---------- CONNECTIONS.
am i picky?? nah. if he can fill something, slot him in. we can chit chat. mwuah
i already know this section is gonna get so neglected because im too tired to think
uhh give me an under the wing sort of relationship ?? listen if bennett can’t repair himself maybe he can touch up someone else. someone he might see something in. buds ? who knows ? not me. but it could b cute.
long time friends !!! doesn’t have to be since childhood but someone(s) he’s known for a while now and they click.
anything angsty ? is good too.
typical friends / enemies plots too !! spice things up.
i need sleep : ) good night !!!!!!!!!!
#no amount of hair gel#suits or ties#will ever cover up the fact he's a f*cking moron#mental health tw#smoking tw#drinking tw#ive been awake 17 hours#sounds like a good time to call it quits#oxfordintro#i will be back in a bit to do dms !! :')#after i snooze a lil
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The truth below this... “me”
So another year huh? And all I did was… mostly be absent.
Come on, I think by this point every single one out there who follow me noticed, either you’re close, far, if you follow for my work, fanfics, or whatever, you saw that last year I did pretty much… nothing.
That comes partially from procrastination, I won’t lie, but… There’s a whole lot that was happening that I kept out to very few, and when I say this I mean that even my parents, brothers and best friends didn’t know some stuff. Only recently I got better to get in contact and talk it out to them and say all the good and the horrible that had been on my mind.
And while I know most want to share the good that happened in 2018, I need to say it wasn’t that good year for me, and to get it out, I want to say it all out and be honest. Then I know there’s nothing I need to hide or be scared of sharing because… if there’s to be known, it’s just to click to read.
That’s why I’m writing this. And because of of the stuff here is very sensible and can be triggering to some, I’m putting on the below. So… avoid the triggers by reading the tags if you have any of them, and if you do but still wish to know how I am, feel free to contact me, ok? I assure things are better now, but if you need a bit more of ease, I don’t mind doing so.
If you decide not to read, just know It’s been a very hard thing on me, but I’m getting better and I’m taking care and getting help and trying my best to keep my hopes and myself up. I’m thankful you cared to read this and I understand if you can’t read any further because of the tags. Thank for considering yourself too and not taking a hit “for my sake”, it makes me actually happy that you consider putting yourself in the position to know where your limits are and to know you can’t go further. Proud of you, little one. If you feel like, don’t think twice before hitting my ask or inbox, ok? Hugs, thanks for being here still.
#personal #me #lullytalks #venting #anxiety #depression #stress #mentalinstability #TW #twseflharming #twsuicide #twanxiety #twdepression #twstress #twgad #twdd #triggering #Triggerwarning
For you who decided to click the button to continue reading anyway, Please remember I’m writing this at once and also that you’re free to stop at any signals of discomfort, unease or triggers. Thank you for taking time to read this anyways.
2018 had been many things, it had been fun and tiring and stressful, and even enjoyable for a bit. But as many other stuff in life, when silence keeps to long it can be taken as a bad omen to bad happenings.
If you ever played Jenga, then you know how it works; if you don’t, it’s basically taking a piece on the base and putting on top and hoping that it doesn’t break down in your turn. Which in the game is fun because you have to think over your decision to what piece to move and not move the tower and the pressure you have makes it fun… In real life? makes you wonder “why one takes the weight in the base of a structure to move to the top if that overweights the top which will obviously make the project/structure fail because the base cannot hold that weight and so it will go down eventually?!”
And well, that was my in 2018, a whole big game of Jenga in which my life are the pieces, and people around me are players as me and the game is ok to everyone but me.
Some of you know, I had a co-worker who had been basically unbearable to work with from the moment she found herself pregnant, and by the law the company can’t fire her until her baby is born and a bit older (around 6-7 months older she gets the licensed and secured), and so after her time secured was over the company did fire her because of her behaviour borderline toxic/abusive toward others. Things finally where getting a bit better with the substitute and things going better in company.
I had been having difficulties with my mother, who has becoming more controlling and hovering over me. If wasn’t enough our communication that was bad begins to go to ruin to worse, rotting to the point I’m back to when I was 15 and I saw her as a stranger. I try to change and get closer. Here is the funny thing about relationships, if doesn’t matter if it’s a friend, a lover, your soulmate, your husband, your sister, your parent, your cousin, your godmother, your father-in-law or whatever that person means to you, as an universal law, it takes both parts and effort to make it work and flow.
And there I was, trying to arrange something we do, we try to speak, to voice out things that hurt and annoys me for us to change for better, because that’s how it should work. One speaks, the other listen, then it’s their turn and so after both saying their sides they try to come in a middle term or a point they can agree on to live better and no one is bitter over the matter.
But that was not what happens. Mom takes the cards I lay on the table and use against me, she takes things on the past against me, she flips the table and now she’s being accused and she’s the victim and I’m the one who’s blind to see how hard she tries to make us all happy and ungrateful, on how I keep pulling distance and I stop talking and avoid talking. I’m the one who doesn’t know she gave up her college, to work and make an career on her own, that father comes tired and deserves to rest for working hard everyday to never miss anything at home, and that she has to bare my sister OCD and ADHD while I’m not there, that she has to keep the house well and do everything… And so, yet again, my voice is cut. I lose courage, my anxiety rises, and I’m afraid of saying anything to anyone, I’m afraid to be a burden, to bother anyone.
I laid on bed that night in silence as I stare at the blank wall and listen to whatever music is on my playlist. Because I know, I fucking know how much their lives could be different for a number of factors, one of them being the fact if I wasn’t born on the worst timing as I did, I know in numbers how much that could have changed, even if my father makes sure to assure me it’s nothing he regrets or I did wrong, I know it wasn’t planned and I know too, it could have changed everything.
Piece moved by mother, my turn is skipped. The player can’t play with shaking hands.
The temporary at work was dismissed, not because someone was finally contracted, but because the boss thought we could do without it. Now, how a company survive without it finances department? Yep, it doesn’t. So they pick someone they think they can reply on to do the job, and then guess what? There I am. Working with numbers and money and it’s stressing more and more since I really didn’t applied for this and it does make me nervous. Then I find a list of mistakes the temporary left and I have to fix, plus more work… and meanwhile I am doing that, my own work papers are there waiting in my table just piling up to the moment I finish up and go do them. Which makes me more stressed, because as long I take to do them, the rest of office needs to wait to keep the workflow. So there I am, working for two, being paid for one, getting some extra hours, and getting exhausted.
My boss moves another piece.
Therapist notice I’m getting more stressed, and things had been getting me easier and some triggers are getting back. I’m getting more and more unstable. She makes some tests and takes another look on my whole history with her on the last 2 years, she also takes a look on my medication and notice there was a change for a higher dose, and now it’s twice a day. She’s worried, she tell my parents to show up and talks to my father (cause mother didn’t show up - a piece of my Jenga went missing), only after a few more sessions she gives me a diagnosis: GAD, aka Generalized Anxiety Disorder.
I’m not progressing in my treatment, in fact, with everything going on with me, I got worse and instead of moving to eventually not need therapy, I need the sessions now more than ever.
My mind moves a base piece, the tower balance a bit.
Things continue going on, everyday begins to be harder and I find myself more tired. Sometimes I get home from work and just take a bath and sleep. I’m missing my appetite, I’m slowly cutting ties with friends and stop talking to them or most of them and taking distance without anyone noticing. I hardly access social media for exceptional to check a thing around here or there. I begin to get anxiety when I try to write once again and begin to be ashamed on myself and my cycle of self-punishment for not being able to write any longer or often, nor I have courage to say anyone besides the therapist all that’s going on.
Even so I try to make an apology and explain at least the part that because I’m working by two and being too stressed and tried is sadly taking out on my creativity, many agree and support and decide to give me the space am I thankful for… Still the two people I considered dearly as readers hurt deeply as I come to known their true meaning. That they already disliked the story on the point it is, that I should have just put as finished and given up and stop writing, and then suddenly other people who I didn’t even know begin to say things on the back and… I just wonder what happened to the respect and honesty I had asked from the beginning. To see so much hate suddenly going out of nowhere was surely discouraging, and on the state I was, I was not only discouraged as I was intimidated to even think on continuing.
Next thing I know is that just as my originals, I am unable to open any of my fanfictions and work on them. I shake, I break down on tears, I get too nervous, I’m unable to concentrate, I begin to question if they were right and if everyone else was just sorry of pitying on me or if they just played along. Then all the files stay in there with the originals, blocked in my unstable mind unable to product anything worthy.
Unknown people move some pieces, the tower shakes.
...
A week can be such a long period of time for some things, and a short for another and sometimes, for the very same reasons. To be fair I still don’t know to say if was a quick or a slow week since there are blanks in my memory and I just have the impact ones. But one thing I can tell for sure, it was a hell of a week.
Monday begins with my mother waking me up and hurrying up to get ready, she still doesn't notice that I’m not well. I try my best to get ready fast as I can, I take my purse to get in the car and get a ride to go to therapy and then go work. I open the door, she already took the car out and look at me; I just have to climb and it will be fine.
She look to me, than take a turn and accelerates the car, so there’s no time for me to catch up. And I am left there with my hand on the door looking on the empty place where I could have climbed the car just by few seconds, but she couldn’t wait because her class was more important than my therapy session. Because her appointment was more important than me in that moment there.
Another piece goes missing.
I’m taken by such sudden sadness and hurt that I wasn’t able to stand or breathe, I stay in the couch for a bit, my sister offer to take me to the therapist in her way to college, I just shake my head. I find out I got no voice, not even strength to talk or even look at her, but she shrugs and go. I somehow make to the bed and lay in there, sleeping. It’s the first time in 3 years I miss a day of work - I didn’t miss even when got sick -, I don’t talk to anyone, I don’t eat, I don’t have water, I don’t go out the bed, I just stay in there and sleep or stare at the blank wall trying to understand what is the feeling inside me. My therapist text me and I lie saying I had a problem, but will show up later in the week.
The next event is after I am able to speak better again, which I’m not sure if was next afternoon or two days. I walk into my therapist office and then find out my health insurance decided to cut the therapy sessions I still had, they want the word of any other doctor saying I do need the therapy and I need to do that in every 3 months or they won’t allow me to continue my treatment. I try to argue with them and reason that I wouldn’t be going if wasn’t necessary, still they say it’s a new rule to everyone so no exceptions. I can’t go to therapy, nor my therapist can treat me out her office, to pay each session it’s out my reach and I already pay for health insurance that should and does cover my treatment, so these rules make absolutely no sense… All I know is that I need my other endocrinologist to give me permission to get treatment, even if there’s nothing to do with her, and the appointment I have is a month away.
Health takes a piece. The tower starts shifting.
I make a huge mistake at work. Because my head isn’t in place I misunderstand the information I am given and end up messing up part of the payment I needed to do. I paid the wrong provider, the other one who does need the payment is stuck and now the central need to find a way to locate the other guy because until the right provider gets the payment he are getting behind track. I get stuck the whole day stuck between fixing my mistake, calming the provider and having to listen silently my boss calling me angrily for a solution.
Work moves a piece. The tower is barely standing.
It takes the next day to put my paperwork in order. the problem of paying the wrong provider still on going, but seems on a way to solution, so I could take a bit of time to focus on getting the work flowing and laughing in a way to avoiding to cry.
Last day of the week, so I can take a bit of rest, I just need hang in there a little bit. Just a few more hours and I could be home so another piece could go missing.
As we get home, my mother gets out. She starts arguing with me and father, ordering we don’t even leave the car, cause my sister needs assistance. I immediately think of the worst as she just is learning to drive and than my father replies it’s not that big deal the car failed her. I am between angry and confused, angry for worrying for a minute that it was something dangerous, confused to why my mother is making such a fuss over the car simply failing on my sister trying to turn it on and making such a fuss on having my father go there.
Things begin to scalates as she raises her voice and begins to argue with him and she tries to calm her, only making her angrier and then threatening to make a scandal and break the car window if he didn’t go. And then changing her mind to do it if he didn’t get out and let her go alone and get out the car.
Neighbors were already starting to look, I was the only in home by them aside the two, tired, getting triggered by all the stress and situation, anxious and then… something snapped.
The tower fell down as I touched to move a piece.
Somehow I took my mother hand and said determined enough for her to get in the car that they both should go. That I wanted them out the house, out of my reach and out the house. She listened by some miracle and I got inside breaking down right after before blanking out.
August 13rd, 2018. I probably won’t ever forget this date. It was a friday, I can remember clearly because it I just had laughed on the irony that it was a friday 13rd and it was being so bad on me at work. It was night and the dog was around me as if he sensed something was wrong… or he just wanted to go for a walk.
Things are blank, as if for the moment I broke down I wasn’t really there, like wasn’t me in my body, or taking control, or too shocked and overwhelmed to notice anything and just let it move and do whatever my brain decided it was best to.
Now that I used Jenga example I find it as a perfect example to explain that blank moment. It’s the moment a player found themselves holding or just after placing the piece and everything comes tumbling down, there’s a paralyzing moment that everyone around stay still in shock watching the tower fall in a mix of wonder and confusion to move only after all the pieces stopped to fall, then you and others try to evaluate how it failed the strategy before picking the pieces around to put the Jenga together again for another round.
That was that blank moment, the moment of wonder and confusion, of complete loss in which I lose myself and the control to the point I don’t even remember how things happened exactly.
All I know is that suddenly I had a knife on my hand and was standing on my kitchen and looking on my other arm.
;
I took one breath, I had went to the kitchen and started to something to relief myself. I took a second breath, I decided to hurt myself because the punishment of all my wrongs seemed like a way to relief back then. I took a third breath, I was just about to cut myself; I don’t know if would be a deep cut on my wrist, arms, lightly or whatever, but definitely wasn’t a good thing that I was up to take hurting myself to that point, and worse, to have no idea on how far I would have gone if I just suddenly get back into my senses in that seconds. I took another breath, I put the knife back in the drawer and close it.
I start to cry again, but for another reason.
Because it had been 10 years. Ten fucking years I had celebrated and considered successful just to find it this demon back again on me. I’m not just depressed and anxious as I thought. I’m back to when I was 15, in this very same kitchen when I sat in the table with a knife on a hand and a bunch of mixed medicines on the other side as I watched the clock and decided when I would put the end.
I’m suicidal again.
;
It’s enough, and I’m done. I just… couldn’t. I put myself on bed, in a way of self-grounding, I decide I will not leave the bed for the next days or talk to anyone unless necessary. And I did well, because I seriously had no idea what I would be able to do if I left that bed in the state I was.
Only in the third day I speak to my closest friends about it all and get some relief, I listen to music to try keep my heart from failing me. I am unable to be back on me again for months, I get back on therapy. I get diagnosis that my depression got in the stage of Deep Depression and at this point, my therapist alone isn’t able to do much alone. I’m somewhere between trying to recover and accepting things are just as they are. She recommends me to get assistance in a group with my family and send to my father, I decide to give a try even if not giving much hope.
My father doesn’t receive the message. Therapist mistook for my mother number and sent to her, my mother dismiss the message and says it’s no big deal and I should not mind about it. I feel hurt she dismissed so easily without talking or even looking up to it, but on the other side I’m also accepting the fact she doesn’t take me as her daughter anymore. And little by little I realize that’s not just something from my mind, as she doesn’t talk that much with me, but with a friend she has with my age and often tries and offer help to her, and then there’s me there. I set in my mind I need to leave home so she can take the daughter she wants to adopt in, and because I need my own air.
My father realizes I’m not well and that my relationship with mother is going from bad to worse to even breaking. He tries to help, my therapist call her in once again to try warn her and tell her. She avoids and miss the meet ups just like a thief runs from the police, and I decide that if she’s not even trying at all, then I won’t either.
My medicine changes to twice a day, I’m still bad, but with therapy back I’m getting a bit better by the days. I decide to travel alone in my vacation to somewhere new and where I know no one and no one knows me.
So I find myself in Curitiba in December.
The city is pretty and with gentle people with smiles and colors around, or so I’ve seen. Maybe it was the feeling that I had space for myself, that I could take a breath and not worry about it. Which also led myself to taking a walk in the grass.
Bad things happened still, true, but to be sincerely? The worst has passed for now, other still to come and, it’s ok in a way. I’ll fall down and cry and be on the ground for a while as I need, and then take my time to recover and look up and be able to talk about too.
So it may had been I took a blind eye to the world and to the rest of you, but the truth is that I don’t. But it’s hard to discuss when there’s too much pain and hurt inside you. and as much it was egoist of me to focus on myself and turn my back to the world, sometimes is necessary. and I learned that now, sometimes it is necessary to be egoist in reason to get better and it’s ok, as long you do get better and know where are your principles.
Taking the trip made me realize that. It also make me realize that taking a time away for yourself, taking a bit to breathe is ok. That my absence in order to not hurt anyone else might have been a void, but was a void necessary for me. I needed to relearn that taking a time to walk on the grass, to look in the sky, take a breath, to look around and take a moment in life… to do any of that wouldn’t destroy the world or anyone else.
The world wouldn’t end because I needed a break. No one would die because I wasn’t able to finish or accomplish something as I wish, just as no one died so far. the one one who has been dying with all this it had been me, killing myself slowly inside out.
Now I do realize that. I’m still far from recovering, I do realize that and know very well, I still have depression episodes and anxiety attacks often, I’m still on a long way to say I’m alright. Maybe I’m never gonna be 100% fine or sane per say, maybe some part of me will always have anxiety and depression because of my brain or whatever but… I hope in that in my lowest moments I am able to look at this moment where Lullaby wrote this about the real me and I can remember to step down a bit.
I’m 25 now, I celebrated 10 years over giving up on suicide when I was 15, and after that… even if I still have suicidal traces for now and dealing with them, and even if I had a recent episode… I guess I can celebrate and count over again, so in ten year I can celebrate 2 times, right? This may be stupid and sound optimist but really… It’s just me trying to take the needle of good in the pile of garbage this all had been. Doesn’t erase the garbage and all it had been, just... trying to desperately find a little thing useful so I can say it wasn’t all Hell and throw it away like I did with my teenage years.
So this is it. I was absent and I’m recovering, right now I’m trying to get on track of writing and reading again. I am 25, diagnosed with Deep Depression, GAD, I have to take medicine to keep in control. I have to change jobs and hope to do soon. I try as much to listen and comfort everyone and make laughs because the last I want if to anyone else to feel the way I do.
And with that being said, I can breathe out and finally put the last year as it is: the past.
As I always say, let’s prepare for the bad and always hope for the best, and onwards to 2019. :)
#personal#me#lullytalks#venting#anxiety#depression#stress#mentalinstability#TW#twseflharming#twsuicide#twsuicidal#tw: suidice#tw: suicidal thoughs#twanxiety#twdepression#triggering#triggerwarning#triger warning
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My heart hurts this week.
For seven years now I’ve worked for the same company, and my boss is a man I admire greatly. Some days he’s like a second father figure to me. Ever since my GAD diagnosis, he’s been very confused about how to work with me, but he seems so open and flexible and patient with me that I never felt uncomfortable having to deal with my problems at work outside of an actual panic attack. It was embarrassing and I wish my anxious moments didn’t happen, but I never really, truly felt judged for it.
Last week I had the worst mental week of potentially my entire life. For over five days I was miserable, scared, alone, and was for the first time in my life experiencing what may have been the beginnings of suicidal thoughts. I hated myself, I hated everything else, and was barely functional. The only good thing that happened all week was a a super fun project renovating a desk and rearranging an office for one of my coworkers as a surprise while he was away. Of course, when my boss and coworkers returned, we found out we had made some changes that weren’t good and needed reversed, which was hurtful to hear. I had worked so hard, and the only bright spot in my week was now wrong, and humiliating to think about.
I had a huge panic attack that day. Spent hours in tears, couldn’t get out of my chair, couldn’t talk to anyone coherently. I told my boss I’d had a very bad week and asked him to set up a time for me to meet with the office counselor in the future. Boss was nice, helped me out, asked if I needed anything. I said thank you very much but no, I got this. Later that day I got called out in the office group chat by the assistant director for some minor things- not by name, but my office is small. Everyone knows who made the mistake. The “friendly reminder to everyone” was targeted at me. For the second time that day, I lost it. That’s another hour of humiliation and tears and self-hatred. I sent my boss a message asking if in the future we could address mistakes I made privately instead of putting them in the group chat.
The message I got back was honestly devastating. He said he’d been thinking a lot about his response to me and had come to the conclusion that I “had to stop thinking that everything is directed at [me] in a spiteful way”. I was “victimizing [my]self for no reason”. Both of the problems that had sent me into panic attacks “weren’t even minor bumps in the road in the big picture”.
Do you know what that sounds like to me?
“I know your mental illness causes you to interpret things a certain negative way with no control, but you really need to stop because it’s finally gotten to the point where it inconveniences me and I don’t like it.”
“Oh my god can you just stop being ill for once, it was just quirky before but now it’s an actual problem.”
“Why are you letting yourself be sick? You should have solved this by now, it’s been what, five years? Get it together already.”
The person I trusted to always listen to what I had to say and do his best to help me, even if he didn’t understand everything about me, has decided I’m too much of a hassle. And his timing was impeccable. He was lucky, I was lucky, that I didn’t have to go home to an empty house again that night, because if I had, I can make no promises about what I might or might not have done. It was fucking lucky that my roommate and fiancé both returned that night to keep me company. I think the only reason I didn’t seriously consider something drastic was the fear that it would be seen as attention-seeking. What a fucking beautiful irony. Tell me, what exactly is the worst case scenario for someone’s who’s too self-conscious to even end themselves?
This was over a week ago, but the echo won’t fade for a while. If ever. My boss and I working a very stressful job together this week, and I feel like I’m going to give myself an ulcer trying to hold back because if I express even the slightest bit of discomfort, I now know for a fact it will be seen as “victimizing myself”. My support system is gone. All of the work, all of the progress I’ve made, it’s all grinding to a halt. And he has no idea, because I no longer feel safe telling him.
I guess you just can’t trust anyone anymore.
And people wonder why I’m so fucked up.
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I figured out I should put out small (that will probably turn into essay by the end I’m done typing) blog post about something that has been on my mind for quite some time, especially now that I’ve been diagnosed with GAD. I will put the read below line so I don’t hog the dashboard, so if you’re interested in reading further, click away.
I need to preface from a beginning that I was always sort of a sensitive. My sensitivity was mostly obvious when I was a child, and majority of it probably comes from my toddler years, which I’ve spent mostly in hiding from bombs and as a refugee. It was coupled with a fact that my father had to get separated from us because of war (he’s alive and well, thank God) and my assumption is that right there I was left with separation anxiety. School years weren’t the worst, but I always struggled with keeping friends and was mostly bullied because of the fact that my catholic mother dared to marry a muslim man and have kids. Okay, when I hit puberty I started to realize that all of that was bullshit and whatnot, I realized many of them we’re just a kid as me and were probably taught wrongly from their parents. Sometimes I see majority of my elementary school classmates today and most of them are just as me and in fact are happy to see me, which is something (except one guy and screw him for a good reason). But I was always left with lingering sense that I, infact, don’t belong anywhere. I always detested fact that I had to indentify as some shit that wasn’t mine to decide (like, ethnicity or religion), so for most of the time, I kept to myself, my comics, my games, anime, etc. When I started finding people that had same interests like me, I was over the moon, because it meant I still had a chance to be myself in a shithole that’s my hometown (which is small and still all kinds of fucked because of war), and to this day I’m still grateful for those years.
University came along, and while I didn’t notice it at first, it started taking a toll on me. It wasn’t difficult sort of university, but constant need to prove myself with my art and failing (to this day I still can’t figure for the fuck all what was I supposed to do with criticism i recieved) coupled with fact that I was straight on abandoned by people I considered my friends in there, kind of destroyed my self confidence and borderline fell into heavy depression before kicking myself in the ass and seeking help for the first time in my life. Since then I learned to adjust myself and sort of control my emotions. I realized that I wasn’t to blame but my self confidence never fully recovered after that. I used to be sort of happy-go-lucky person before that, and for last few years I was left into constant self doubt about every single little shit I do.
That is, enter my boyfriend, without whom I’d probably be in a way worse state and who didn’t bail on me because he told me way later in relationship that, when he first met me I was in such a shitty mental mess, and frankly, he was right. I was a hot potato of issues and I was full on ready to get my shit together, but I like to believe some higher force decided that I needed an angel alongside. So they sent him to me. BUT (there’s always that fucking but) anxiety is a sneaky little bitch that never left me alone and constantly made me worry and stress over such a minuscule shit it’s not even funny.
At that point I also believed internet was my refugee from constant shitfest that’s my real life and place I live in, it was one of places where I could be full of weird ideas and people who are open minded like me. Everything was allowed, right?
Except at that point (it was 2013) is where climate of Tumblr started to shift from mindless fun and shitposting for majority of time to full out blown toxicity from all around. Shit that had a good basic message in it was dripped in a such a toxic waste that I really, REALLY, didn’t have mind capacity to handle it. I started noticing taking a toll on me again because, YET AGAIN, there was this stupid fucking indenitity bullshit that ‘‘if you’re not x don’t x or y’‘ or similar crap. As someone who had to go trough whole fucking childhood of being asked if i’m ‘‘x or y’‘, here I was, AGAIN, being asked same bullshit. And over what? But, as always, anxiety won again, and instead of me facing this and keeping my head in place, I decided to hide all of this from my dash, whenever it was unfollowing or filtering words because I couldn’t handle it. Those weren’t my fights.
I ran away from people again. I was hurt and abandoned before for mere facts that I didn’t toe in line with groupthink. And again, I felt like I don’t belong anywhere. My whole life was basically filled with conflicts and I didn’t want to continue doing that here.
So if you’ve read up until this point, you probably wonder ‘‘what’s this about?’‘, here’s what it is: I’m opening my soul. I’m trying to put down in words all of my actions and happenings before and how they led me here where I’m now. I used to be victim of other’s people action but in the end I remained victim of my mind. No one was holding me down but me and my shitty anxiety. I know it’s okay to distance yourself from shit that makes you uncomfortable. But it’s also festering ground for whole lot of stuff that will in the end give you far more shit than simple dealing with a problem straight ahead.
But god fucking damn if I’ll ever let anxiety control me the way it did. This blog post function is me giving my anxiety a big middle finger.
Fuck you for making me self doubt. Fuck you for making me overthink every single possible outcome. Fuck you for not letting me be ME. I’m who I am and fucking deal with it.
In the end (if you came up till this point) I’d like to do two things. First is, I apologize. I apologize to anyone who ever felt I was wronged by them, whenever it was intetional or not. I’m not good person by any means, however, this apology comes sincerely from the bottom of my heart.
Second is, thank you if you’ve read trough this. It’s mostly me just talking about my issues and sorting them in a coherent manner for my brain. After all of this typing, I feel relieved. Again, thank you if you’ve read trough all of it.
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Hollywood Hillbillies, The Ballad of the Boomers.
This image turned Norman Rockwell into a socialist.
Hollywood fed and bred celebrities are finally starting to wane much like franchise family restaurants, simple no-frills shotgun weddings, Budweiser, and egg-based mayonnaise, and for the most part, most American lives are probably not feeling impacted by this loss. In a world of Amy Adams and Glenn Closes two women in make believe professions whose biggest hurdle remains whether or not they will reap the Industry awards they so richly deserve, and seeing as real life underdogs give you fleas you might as well root for these Queens. For starters, one of these talented performers has BIG EYES, while the other is elegant and old, but not too old, and they are both perfectly fine at what they do. One thing millennials and mineral-based Americans are not kidding around about are award shows, because we’re all stabbing and shaving ourselves with all of the trophies that line the walls of each and every day spent doing our best. Egad, Josh Gad will one day get an Egot and a new species of animal is eradicated each and every day.
Wait I thought that the new Dark Crystal series was cancelled?
The trailer for the Ron Howard picture Hillbilly Elegy is coming in hot off the tepid and apathetic trails of a Star Wars film more forgotten than the Life Day special, Ron Howard also feels like a man awarded more and more opportunities for simply doing his best. Come gather around the Battle of the Boomers! In Netflix’s corner is a conservative personal parable of someone born and raised in Ohio warding off the festering influences of his parents Appalachian Kentuckian upbringing. According to the great powerful Wiki the book is concerned something of a conservative doggrel beating the same wife beater wearing fiction about the horrors of the Welfare Queen. As someone who recently became a welfare queen himself, as well as someone overcoming substance abuse issues I feel like a venture capitalist from Ohio and Okie’s golden son Ron fucking Howard are really going to get down to the real truth about poverty and substance abuse.
There are three types of Terminators in the World: Neutral Terminators, Good Terminators, and Bad Terminators. I’m Glenn Close.
Netflix and friends are the only buffet any of us without a death wish can frequent in the 21st century. As of the date of this writing Netflix has already released 85 a total Netflix Productions (not counting documentaries). This noticeable leap in quantity benefits from the amount of international non-English language movies spanning languages from Akan to, Netflix has gone from releasing only 2 movies to its name in 2015 up to 105 movies by the end of 2020. How many of these exercises in funny accents, prosthetic transformations, Horse Girls, Lost Girls, Tall Girls, Sweet Girls and The Girls I’ve Been can we claim to be really moved by? Will you remember me come next Girlfriend’s Day? You could keep stringing Netflix titles along and find some meaning or come up with nothing but a Bird Box. Nobody but Netflix has been releasing a movie or two or three a week, and that’s because Netflix dueling CEOs Ted Sarandos and Reed Hastings are cut throat dynamos of Men of industry who dared to ask, “What if movies, but on TV?”
Oh the Caucasity!
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Whereas, HBO asks no questions, stands completely nude (as ordained by HBO’s Ministry of Nudity) , and proud. HBO does not need to ask any questions, because they are the answer. HBO is the movies (as of 1982). HBO has been quietly churning out direct to TV movies in the years where the cineplex was becoming strictly for the Haus of Mouse and the Captain Reboot was dealing with his worst bout of necrophilia yet! This other movie I am discussing isn’t an HBO movie though, but an HBO Max feature. The first of a strange new breed. The other trailer in question to drop this week is by yet another historically Hollywood director is Bobby Zemeckis, who let’s be very clear is not directing the upcoming Roald Dahl Witches adaption he is only humbly re-imagining the material. So if this movie tanks like Marwen don’t blame Zemeckis, because he only re-imagined this one. As someone who has no soft spot in my skull for Dahl I am not coming to this project with anything but cautious fascination.
The look people give me when I tell that my favorite movie of all time is Alice Through The Looking Glass
Anne Hathaway and Amy Adams both talented actors that get under a lot of people’s skins in the way peculiar to successful women. I will say that Hathaway looks like she is having a lot more fun these days. At the very beginning of the year I had watched one of her more recent leading lady vehicles Colossal an indie movie dealing with alcoholism through emotional kaijus, a big foolish swing. Hathaway really succeeds for me whenever she is in Rachel Getting Married fuck up mode , and it looks like here on the Witches she’s back at being an actor having fun getting themselves dirty for the sake of expression. This looks like a performance built around a silly accent and prosthetics, but Hathaway is too startling a screen presence to be drownedout. Maybe I am actually really hyped for this frivolous dark family fantasy comedy? Or maybe I’m just really into horrifying animal transformations which the trailer doubles down on, which makes me believe that this is just the tip of the green screen abominations!
So if you’re am embittered actor out there that feels spent and drained of all naturalistic energy as the horizon of live performance fades further and further out of view. I implore these thespians to reach down into their silliest accent cabinet, for God’s sake make sure you’ve gotten rid of your racist silly accent drawer, and most importantly be very pretty so that the process of uglifying you is more of a process. Accomplish both of these grand feats, and maybe you too could be working alongside the classic American directors and studio wizards keeping the Dream alive by slathering their dolls and action figures in enough digital magic to close the circle. Movies are Dead! And the coroner is sorting through her wigs.
#netflix#hbo#Hillbilly effigy#the witches#Roald dahl#hollywood#americana#anne hathaway#Amy adams#glenn close#halloween#movies#trailers#upcoming
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Here are some of the most important things I've learned about being in love over the past 2 years:
•Communication is ABSOLUTELY necessary. Stop being petty. People cannot read your mind. If you want something, ask.
•Your partner could be the worlds worst gift giver, but because they picked something out for you, you should love it. They put thought into it. And again, if you wanted something specific, you should have asked.
•Never bottle things up. This goes along with communication but I put it separately because it's been a major issue in my relationship. I never tell him when something upsets me until I can't take it one day and snap which isn't fair to either of us. Trust me, your partner would rather know the second they upset you.
•Love is not a feeling. It's a commitment. And as much as people hate to say it, it's some hard fucking work. But if you want to be with that person, it doesn't matter what you'll have to work through.
•People DO grow and change. I met my boyfriend 6 years ago my sophomore year in high school. I refused to date him because I felt he was immature and, to be honest, I was in a bad mental state. We've only been together romantically for the last 2 years but he impresses me all the time and has changed so much to better our relationship already. Your partner should always kee you in check, and if they don't, they're not for you.
•Stop taking relationship advice from people who are biased, or whose relationships you don't idolize. It will mess with you and create more problems than you thought you had. My own best friend has tricked me into thinking my boyfriend is a horrible guy, when in reality she's still in a relationship with a man that has cheated multiple times and makes her despise her own family.
•I really do think that love is all about who you want to see at the end of the day. Who you want to vent to, who makes you feel better after a bad day, and who makes sure you're not overthinking things.
•GO TO THE FAMILY EVENTS. You will never regret getting to know your partners family better. And it should be an equal affair. I've NEVER gotten along with my parents and I do butt heads with my siblings, but you will all be family one day. Learn the ins and outs. One of my favorite things about my relationship is how close I am with my boyfriends family. I adore them and I'm lucky to be so close and get to go up north on family vacations, family dinners, and I'm as close with his cousins as if they were my own siblings.
•This one may not apply to everyone, but I suffer from both depression and extremely high anxiety and mental illnesses are really tough for someone to understand if they haven't been through it themselves. I was afraid to hang out with my boyfriends friends because the thought of it made me anxious and I never wanted to explain to him why. This led to him thinking I hated his friends when in reality, I was afraid I'd have a panic attack and I didn't want them to have to deal with me. After I explained to him my situation, it still took almost over a year for him to get good with knowing the signs of my anxiety and what to do if I was ever feeling that way. Now he's absolutely incredible and asks me if I want to go home before I even have to say anything (which is a big deal to someone wih GAD.)
•You really don't have to date someone that loves everything you love to do. It's a common misconception that the love of your life will be into the exact same things as you (I mean think about it, seems a bit far fetched...) In fact, one of my favorite things about my relationship is that we are so different and so we balance each other out. He's so positive and I'm... a realist (?) I guess you could call it. He's extremely family oriented while I've never had a good relationship with my family. But we both still love nature activities, we value experiences more than materials, and I've even gotten him into a few of my favorite movies/bands.
All in all, I never thought I could have a long term relationship due to my mental illnesses. I have always really enjoyed my own company and I was content with the fact of living alone one day and being the cool single aunt. But I've found someone who is okay with not having children and just traveling the world with me. We may not have money to do it right now, but I love to daydream with him about our future adventures and how I'll get to take him home to Scotland with me. We always say that we can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together, but we always forget that it's already happening. And I am so in love.
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