#once again im sorry if ive ever done anything to upset anyone but my silence / absence doesnt mean i dont care | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myjjbaby · 4 years

Note

okay so the idea is reader taking one (or many) of jj's shirts without asking him, and every time he sees her with one of his shirts on he's like 🥺🥺 and finally she says she likes his smell and wears them because of that and idk some fluff (sorry if this is bad it was just an idea i had)

white t-shirt

author’s note - this kinda deviated from the original request but it just happened because your girl is angsty. happy first time writing in a month to me!! (apologies in advance im rusty). thank you to lisa @angellissy for being my hype woman as much as im yours because this wouldn't happen without you so. couple folks who i love who asked to be tagged so: @baby-bearie @dpaccione (taglist? yes or no? someone want to teach me how?) please also know that even as my dash returns to normal and im writing this doesnt mean ive stopped or anyone else should stop advocating for black lives matter so please do all you can loves :))

synopsis - requested by @strkydrw! JJ isnt used to public affection and it creates a wedge between the two of you. which JJ isnt about to let happen.

warnings - mentions of anxiety, smidge of angst, and a swear cause i felt like it. 1.7k of comfort!boyfriend!JJ

JJ Maybank was not one for public displays of affection. He was so used to going it alone that he couldn’t fathom someone wanting to love him for the whole world to see. You were okay with it, really you were, it was just something that made the blonde who he was.

Through your time together he became more lenient. A short peck in front of the Pogues or rough fingertips brushing the skin of your waist when your shirt rose up at a kegger. He loved you and that’s all you could ask for.

But to say you weren’t needy for his affection would be a complete lie. Curling into his side at the Kook’s walk-in movie, being able to love on your perfect boy for the whole world to see, but little hand touches were enough for you if it meant JJ was yours.

You had a bad day. A crap day. Everything that could’ve gone wrong, did and now you want your boyfriend. You needed JJ’s arms to wrap you up and push all your worries away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

You were at a party at the Boneyard, like most summer nights on Outer Banks, and your personal security blanket was far too busy by the keg to take notice of you. Pope was sitting next to you on a piece of driftwood. The sweet boy had a knack for reading you and the Pogues like an open book. He could spot your glowering from just about anywhere.

“Pope, I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I’ll leave you alone when I believe you.”

“Pope,” he glared at you, “okay, okay.”

The two of you settled into a calm silence. Pope sipped at his plastic water bottle, which Kie had already ratted him for, and you fiddled with your fingers, relaxing at JJ’s smile in the distance. A frown slipped over your features just as quickly as your sweet smile had appeared.

“Y/N?”

Turning your head to the dark skinned boy, you appreciated his concerned smile but honestly you’d rather bask in your misery alone if you couldn’t have your blue-eyed boy.

“I’m gonna walk home,” Pope’s eyes followed your movement as you stood, “tell JJ for me?”

Now he knew something was off, though you and your boyfriend were never outwardly affectionate, Pope knew of the silent love you shared. The fact you didn’t want to tell JJ you were leaving nor grasped the opportunity to squeeze the blonde’s hand was unsettling.

He watched you slip away, staying out of the firelight so JJ had no chance of catching your departure. He waited until you disappeared over the dune and started your short walk back home before practically bounding across the beach and gripping JJ’s bicep.

“Woah Pope, quite the grip there.”

“Y/N went home.”

“What?”

“Y/N left.”

The blonde quickly scanned the sandy beach, eyebrows furrowing when he didn’t find your familiar figure. He glanced back at Pope.

“Do you know why?”

“She seemed upset.”

“What? Why didn’t sh-”

“I don’t know, but that’s not the point,” he flicked the side of JJ’s head, “the point is that your girlfriend needs you so bust a move.”

Pope barely got the last words out before the blue-eyed boy practically sprinted through the crowd.

You were a mess by the time you reached your familiar grey house with tears streaming down your cheekbones as the screen door slammed behind you. You pushed your way through the house, feeling your legs ready to give out under your weight.

You slipped out of your clothes and goosebumps rose across your skin, the summer breeze chilled against your tanned skin. Pushing your jackets and sundresses aside in your closet, you reached for the worn white t-shirt tucked behind the rest of your clothes. The stained Pelican Marina shirt was one of your prized possessions. JJ had asked you about the article of clothing before saying how he lost it and wondered if you had seen it.

You denied everything.

The t-shirt always calmed you, the smells of the salt air and JJ’s weed, it made you feel like you were curled up in his hold. With just his shirt on, you slid under your blankets and pulled the knitted fabric to your chin. You tried to ignore the wetness of your skin and the pinch in your chest that even JJ’s aroma couldn’t solve.

You were so distracted by your waves of emotions you nearly missed the soft revving of the motorbike in your driveway. Your heart clamped when you heard the soft murmurs between your boyfriend and your dad as they undoubtedly worried about your off demeanor.

“Y/N?”

Your breathing felt erratic as you quickly closed your eyes, praying you wouldn’t have to admit anything to JJ. You waited for him to leave after a soft sigh slipped through the crack beneath your door, but instead you heard the familiar creak of wood against rusted hinges.

You silently thanked your past self for laying down with your back to the wall because you knew you’d crack under JJ’s crystal gaze. Willing your lungs to settle, you felt his familiar warm touch settle over the fabric of his shirt you were wearing. The soft movement of his fingers kneading into your back nearly caused a whimper after longing for the boy’s touch for so long.

“Baby? I know you're awake.”

Mentally cursing your boyfriend, you rolled over to your side as JJ pressed his body closer to yours, practically laying on the bed now.

“Hi.”

“Hi sweet girl.”

He sweetly pressed his lips to the tip of your nose, smiling against the skin when he felt your cheek against his hand warm up. The blonde tried to pull back to admire your flushed features but you hid your face in his neck. You smiled when your actions emitted a chuckle from the boy which filled up the silence in your room.

This was what you wanted more than anything. Your perfect, loving JJ holding you close and kissing you tenderly, but not like this. You wanted to feel adored outside of the safety of closed doors and four walls, but that wouldn’t happen. You pouted at your ruined daydream.

“Hey, hey,” JJ felt your frown against his tanned skin, “baby, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N…”

“Really, it’s nothing, J, can we just forget it?”

“No.”

“J-”

“Tell me.”

You stayed silent, breathing in his presence, the pinch in your chest finally releasing.

“Baby, please?”

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

“What?”

He pulled away from your touch as he frantically searched for some kind of explanation in your eyes.

“Sweet girl? Why would you ever think that?”

“You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to force yourself to kiss me in front of your friends and you won’t talk to me, much less touch me in public. It’s like I’m dating different people, JJ. The boy I fell in love with and some guy who’d never give me the time of day.”

“Bab-”

“No,” you sat up, letting his once comforting arm slip off your body, “I had the worst day and everything was too much and I just needed you. I need you, JJ. But I didn’t even want to tell you because I was scared you were going to brush me off. I don’t want to have to think twice before going to you, I shouldn’t have to but I jus-”

You were cut off by a harsh sob that was building up in your throat throughout the day. The weight of everything pulling you down for too long. Your cries, however, were quickly muddled as JJ pulled you into his warm, taut chest. His pillowy lips pushed against your skin, shushing you in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Baby, I’m not embarrassed by you. For fuck’s sake, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to it, I guess. You love so proudly and the fact that I have you is overwhelming. I’ve never done this before, loving someone. I wish you had told me, sweet girl, I love you so much, angel. So much and if you need me to hold you or kiss you or whatever, just tell me, okay?”

You nodded against the soft fabric of his navy shirt, your sobs giving out to breathy whimpers. It was peaceful like that, the room completely dark except for the moon and stars shining through your curtains and your boy holding you tight as you laid on his chest. You leaned back to stare at his serene facial features and watched as he fiddled with the hem of your clothing.

“Baby?”

You hummed, settling back into the crook of his neck.

“Is this my shirt?”

“Umm, maybe?”

He felt your skin heat up against his and smirked, trying to catch your eye in the dim light.

“Why’d you take it?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted you with me when I couldn’t have you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweet girl, I like you in my clothes. And you can always have me, okay?”

You hummed again, drowsiness forcing your lids closed. JJ shivered as your eyelashes fluttered over the smooth skin of his neck.

“What do you think of wearing this to tomorrow’s boat day with everyone?”

He mumbled into the night, smiling at the idea of you laying out with his shirt announcing you were his, but his suggestion went unanswered because your were already fast asleep in the comfort of the blue-eyed boy’s arms.

#outer banks #jj maybank #outerbanksedit #masterlist #obxedit #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #i want a jj so someone please supply one #outer banks masterlist #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks

827 notes · View notes

blackgirlblues · 4 years

Text

Being A Black Girl: And Chasing Your Dreams.. Yikes.

Hi,

It’s me, your resident black girl back with some new shit to rant about. I’ve been posting a few screenshots of short poems and paragraphs I’ve been writing on my phone as a way to heal and get over Capricorn boy from my last post on here and I see you guys like and reblog. Thank you for showing love, although it makes me sad that so many of you seem to be going through the same range of emotions I am. I’m sorry.

I know it’s a lonely place to be in.

But, on the bright side, I’ve got a lot of new followers joining the diary/manual/rant page that is blackgirlology and it’s nice cause I think it’s becoming a little bit of a community. So, in a way, were never really going through any of these emotions alone. If you’ve found this page-you’re part of a community. Bask in it.

Anyways, that aside, a lot has happened since I last spoke to you. I don’t know if any of you may remember, and for some new people this will be a surprise. But I’m actually a singer songwriter from Ireland. Moved to London a year and a half ago to pursue my music dream and that’s how I met Capricorn boy whos been the source of all my poems.

Throughout this time in between, I’ve been trying to chase my dreams, and chase them relentlessly. and this summer i did just that, let me tell you, what im about to tell you guys, is to put it simply, wild. I’ll just cut to the chase.

It all started in July. I’d been in London for quite a long time now, over a year and now have a manager who’s my best friend first and foremost. We’ll call her Maya. I met her in my first week of moving to London in the student halls I was staying at and we became best friends pretty quick. She studies music business, so it made sense and she just naturally ended up taking up the role as my music manager. Shes seen everything. The songs I wrote about Capricorn boy, the tears, everything. And she saw everything this summer.

I saw an ad for a record label opportunity in London. It was advertised on my university facebook page; a new indie label, looking for demo submissions for a competition they were setting up to find their new signee. I sent a screenshot to Maya who agreed I should send my stuff in. I did, they liked it, I got a meeting, we were sent terms and conditions for the competition. We signed it, the rest was supposed to be history.

Big yikes.

There’s so many layers to this story that I will be shortening it, just because it can get very draining for me to talk about or even write about. I’ve healed from it i think, but I still want to put it here and write it about to finally close that chapter and be done with my feelings about what happened to me and my music.

Basically, the whole competition, the record label, the dickhead CEO, it was all a scam. I had accidentally signed away the master rights to my new song to a record label started by a fake CEO who was committing fraud and known for tricking young artists into handing over their master rights so he could profit off of them, for power.

It was a mess. Another contestant told me and Maya when we were outside of their office. Just minutes before we were under the impression that I was doing an interview for Billboard Magazine. Honestly, I never truly believed it. Shit was too good to be true.

But she told us everything. How he was actually a run away from Spain, where he was caught and exposed for doing the exact same thing to artists there, how he didn’t have any money to fund the competition he had somehow roped all of us into, how he was illegally avoiding paying his team, how none of the creatives we had collaborated with for photoshoots etc were paid, how everything was a lie, how he didnt have any connections, and how he was trying to convince me specifically to sign a 360 deal with his label.

Which, guys, I’m not stupid. After the first week of being with the label for the competition and letting my song live through their disastrous marketing campaign, Maya and I long decided that regardless of what they said, I would not under any circumstances be signing anything with any entity of their company.

After being told the truth, I had to sit down. You see, when I came across this opportunity, I thought this was finally the life I’d been manifesting coming true. I had begun to grow in my spirituality and start journaling, writing down my manifestations, and getting to work with a record label who would later offer me a fair contract before I turn 20 was one of the manifestations I had written down every night before I went to bed. However, what I’d gotten was the exact opposite.

I remember, me, Maya, and 2 of the girls from the competition all stood around in a circle outside of their new office that the CEO also hadnt paid for wondering what our next move would be with this new information. There was still 2 other contestants inside who had no idea what was really going on was an elaborate scam. One of them wanted to go in and expose them on the spot. I said no, we had to go in and pretend like everything was normal until we figured out what to do afterwards.

So in I went, plastering the fakest smile on my face and pretended like I still thought I was about to be speaking with Billboard Magazine. Once I got out, I broke down in Maya’s arms.

I went home to my flatmates, Ellie and Bea and cried for hours before I had to go work a 7 hour shift at a pizza place.

I stayed in bed, and cried, and cried. and cried again. I didn’t get out of bed unless I needed too. The only people I talked too were my flatmates E and B and Maya.

Everything was sorted out eventually, a lot more happened, but as I’ve been writing this article for you guys, I realised that all of that stuff is no longer relevant to my journey and isnt something I want to bring back into my energetic circle because I’ve made peace with the fact that a lot of people who betrayed me when I was at my lowest, peace with the fact that these contestants who wanted to “work together” to get out of this mess, actually wanted to save their own asses and leave me in the cold.

But I still got out of it and I’m still here.

I nearly got sued by a man with less than 20 pound to his company account online, but hey, I’m here.

I guess why I’m telling you guys this really short account of my summer is to both record it for myself but also to say its okay to flop, its okay to fail. I did both this summer. and thank god i did. it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

following your dreams is scary, doing it as a black girl is terrifying because society has already kind of set you up to fail. there’s already misconceptions about what you do, who you are, where you come from and how good you’re going to be at what you do. its almost like we cant fail and we need to work 10 times harder to obtain half of what the average white person will get. and sometimes it can feel like we dont have any space to fail or make mistakes because of this but let me tell you thats not true.

if anything, the universe will put you in places that will force you to grow through the mistakes you make. and thats exactly what happened to me this summer.

i chased my dream so relentlessly i ended up in an environment i thought i manifested, i thought was good for me, only for the universe to show me that that specific environment i’d been wishing to be in is the furthest from what i need right now in my life.

this so called failure showed me that not everybody who smiles can be trusted, and that people can be way more deceiving than i ever thought, especially when push comes to shove and they need to save themselves. you start to see the real them when it starts to get tense. the people who seem to be around you when you’re doing good will most likely dissapear when things start to go south, including some of your oldest friends. you will get radio silence on their end. be upset. cry. but after that be glad that this situation revealed their true colours.

and then never put any more energy into them again.

this failure showed me how fucking strong i am. how resilient and kind i am even in the face of disrespect and actual evil. it showed me how much i can care for someone who i believe is at a risk of losing it all, and showed me that this will not always be reciprocated. and for a while i thought that meant that i had to harden myself up and grow a shell. but i dont think so. i will not allow the things ive been through to make me into a hard person when i was born soft. i mean now, im a little rough around the edges, jagged enough to cut anyone who comes too close with some of that bad energy, but soft enough to hold myself tight and glue myself back together when i need to. soft enough to hold the people who held me this summer. soft enough to help people who i know deserve it.

im a good person in a shitty world, i don’t need to match the world and become a shitty person to survive.

after all of this happened, i stopped writing music.

i haven’t written anything properly or produced anything in months and sometimes i get worried that ive completely lost my talent. but thats another thing that this failure taught me, i can never truly lose whats meant to be mine. i know that i was put on this earth to create change, to inspire, to be an activist and a voice for people who dont have one. i know i was put here to do it through a creative medium and right now i still think that is music.

i think i just need to stop being so scared to start again, to learn my craft again.

i used to be so scared of failure but now i am so thankful for it and the lessons its taught me. i had so much hurt and pain and hatred in my heart for the universe for, in my head, doing this to me. but then i realised that the universe never does anything to you, it does it for you. all of this happened in my best interest and while i definitely didnt understand at the time, i get it now.

thank you universe for the worst summer of my life.

and my black ass will be continuing to chase my dreams relentlessly, failing, tripping and falling on my ass until i get to the very top.

besides, if everything had just gone right, that wouldnt have been very interesting, would it?

#blackgirlology #black girl #black power #black love #black blogger #Black Blogs #music #blog #blogger #journal #journaling #diary entry #diary of a black girl #diary #dear diary #tumblr diary #dreams

12 notes · View notes

40ozalctears · 4 years

Text

i am leaving this tedious attempt at poignancy. find us again in the same spot we left our glasses broken so we only saw the shapes of the things we loved i want to love again (2 parts)

pt 1 (Waking) appears to me as echos or with glasses removed it is only ever a valley of lights loud cold and I couldnt ever make out a predator let alone one so sweet of skin and soft of lips with cadences baked in the lowest cloud of heaven that u called what was it ah yes, abode for we slayed there the evils of no knowing all hope exists from accept to give.... relax on it wait that’s not correct, ruminate? purple prose again. hearkens to the middle school entries hatred of self in understand the loss of cold is new spring then insanity after i spread my wings to be so finely tuned, clipped ripped and reborn. sewn alone. bored. go yes. ruminate is a word. i love it actually i love so much, but little riddles get me a little upset should i sit on cold tea with their syllables gnawing like a rodent. words only. do you kno how many times ive rhymed herd with ah...it is just so easy..ah men..amen..so many rhymes and times and...shall I say with no pursuers? crime If anyone wants to cut this gem. I don’t want 2 b evicted. i wann be convicted, w8..that aint sound rite I wanna live with conviction, in silence and diction, keep it buttery even wehn low and muttery. dumb st Uttering. hey You! yes U. The One who reached out. A begins with name (riddle me that, little one. saddle up city slicker trust me im a licker woops that was fun and might suggest a too soon moon when the suns out. day drink beauty sinks so here i am as well. with the wine so gone carving like meat of the stomach walls, and so stolen from Somerled market and I sat so stoic in the garden of Anglican church - xanax and wine, sometimes lime liquer. I don’t quite write too much of anything but the times I had solitude thoughts. I balanced the cig pack on the wine bottles all this coddling years and my rot is the fears that I jeered into an asylum for a less lovely fated me I see your calling’s thirst for a pretty face has been sated, see Sea. Pacific. Specifically. Sea air and all of me. Missing a part A heart. Slowly doing the youngin’ rhyme schemes. I have never yelled as a pastor but I swear as a messiah i tried against the dog leash will of the bindings that i was the one. yeah the one at the end of all the holy books look. let’s just share more over tea Like I said, ochre stream and a tiara of sea emerald. hm, topaz? so lasted this long, well done for song jst words tho. blow dro, no hope jus cope but yo we can b here as second letter in the alphabet. soup. loot. fruits and goodness see, here, c is three and I am losing it over the recurrence of how U! Silly one, deserve the entire depth of sea. Tiara ok I have snaked myself into puzzle of words. I’m scared, uh... Save me lady! Or lately maybe you could simply not snake me? should i find u again in the desperate dreams turning darker darker for ive been a rodent slow dent in skull for u ive been in den for so long. sea all happening tho watching the depth n wat uuuuuu Deserve I don’t ever hope to learn. Burn and then into the urn world will turn it...Mwah! Ripe trite for the wrong man for a song girl, together, seemed able to rip seams of this wrong world. PT 2. I fear the sleep alone and another day as so. drifting to shaded shallows should we stress our closeness like continents then the richer we’ll be for the digging of dreams, and et cetera matched in flames of your worst kept things and face washed in mascara tint let’s keep it out of the high grass. for an emotional and addicted boy there is always a stern no. finger wag, it is strange that it is always for my own fucked mistakes so angular, not cute and soft and circle shaped so fucking clear with every fucked mistake i make. ive made. you’ve said it best in curses beyond what the children know as what we keep from them and only mix them and their brood with smiles and helium balloons but within chests there’s curses for the evil done - without denying i have taken a sharp bite of some if only for a ship to sail in dreams between the time light wakes, so something could complete , just for once. it all seems twigs breaking before the fire, and these bones have been shedding their layers like bugs in this late summer and every time, prostrate, i beg and beg granted gifts from upper things. no use in saying how i am sorry so much to say if you find me lost as lost can be and burnt broken once hoping having detachment turn to hate and i’d fail my mother if i let myself hate like anyone would do to her or you or anyone but me you can make me bleed forever if it keeps your mind off whatever your mind needs off of. my minds is far too often far too often on and not ever turning on in sleep of death what dreams may come fuck the tragedies we can rewrite it in simple broken english till theyre silly comedies and u see Autumn, like Fall with me and I return to you of me I have been screeching to anyone they call me insane because i’m so excited to try to care again. they call me insane so much just for how boyish i become of a bouncy little soft thing if one would let me prove i can do it and if you look me in the eyes, i would hope that you would say “You FUCKER! Love, please, for fuck’s sake, prove it.” Sisyphus taught me fuck the weight we got fuck how the soft gets claimed by the rot I want to show you I’m ready to eternally uselessly help you hold the weight stable of rock and push it forever and ever and ever and ever and evernadnever.

1 note · View note

ogwivia · 5 years

Text

Want You Back- Youngblood Stories 1

{This is a set of original stories by Olivia Franklin. Each one is inspired by a song off the album Youngblood. I hope you enjoy, and if you have ideas for the other stories please let me know}

Here you sat, an unopened letter in front of you. It had your name written on it in that handwriting you had grown to know and love; he had even drawn a little heart beside it. How ironic that he would put this in a letter, after all, a letter is what started your relationship. Here you sat, trying to make yourself open it; but you were so afraid of what it might contain. As you sit there contemplating, your mind wanders back through everything that has happened over the past couple weeks.

When you woke to the sound of your alarm blaring on the bedside table, your first thoughts were not happy. You laid there for a few moments trying to gain your bearings and muster up the will to be awake. Then, suddenly, your brain remembered why the alarm was going off and you quickly shot up out of the bed. Your boyfriend Luke had called a couple days earlier to ask if you would go watch the sunrise with him; mornings are something you absolutely despise, but he makes it all worth it.

You quickly get up, throw on some sweatpants and your favorite t-shirt adorned with roses, brush your teeth, wash your face, then head downstairs to await Luke’s arrival. This outfit did not make you look super cute, but this was Luke. You could show up wearing a trash bag and he would say you deserve to be walking the red carpet at the Met Gala.

He pulls up to your house and you quickly jump into the car. You are reminded why you love this man so much when you see that he is also adorning sweatpants and a t-shirt. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and you to drive away, bound for the mountains.

When you get up to the top of the mountain, Luke lays out a blanket. He lays down and pulls you into his arms, all is as it should be. You find yourself wishing this moment could never end; everything was perfect.

“Hey, I want to tell you something”, Luke says breaking the silence.

“Okay”, you respond, a little nervous about what is coming next.

“I love you”

As you snap back to the present for one moment, you find this memory has brought a tear to your eye. You wish more than anything in the world you could go back and tell yourself to just say it back to him, but at that moment you couldn’t. You wanted to say it, so badly you did, but because of your past, you couldn’t make the words come out of your mouth. Your brain then painfully continues the memory.

“Luke I-“

“You what”

“You’re so sweet, but I-“

The expression in his eyes changed to one of deep hurt, you could see it in his eyes.

“Don’t you love me too?”

This question pained me so much. He knew you did, he knew the answer to this question.

“Luke, I’m sorry I just can’t. I’m not ready yet, you know why I can’t”

“I can’t believe this”

“Luke I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m trying to be over it, I really am. I just need a little bit more time.”

“It’s been three months, when is going to be enough time? Am I just supposed to wait forever for you to be ready?”

He rolled over releasing you from his arms. You tried to hold the tears back, but you couldn’t. His words broke your heart. You laid there silently as the sun slowly began to creep above the mountains, but you found no joy in this scenery.

Snapping back to the present, your eye makeup is now completely smeared on your face. You clutch the letter so tightly that you are not sure how it didn’t disintegrate between your fingers. Why, why couldn’t you have just said it back to him that day; three simple words that could’ve saved you a world of hurt. Your sorrow suddenly turns to anger as you remember why you couldn’t make the words come out of your mouth. Your mind takes you back to another memory, three months before the day of your mountain trip to be exact.

Your parents died when you were very young and none of your family members would take you in, because of this you were sent to a group home. They did their best to care for you, but you never felt very special or loved. You spent most of your childhood trying to prove you were worth something, afraid that no one would ever love or want you. After all, if your own family didn’t want you, why would anyone else? You spent your whole life dreaming of the day you turned 18 and could move out, but for now, you were stuck here; you had no choice but to make the best of it.

You were so desperate to feel loved and wanted that you took the first offer that came along. Darren seemed like a knight in shining armor to you when you first met him during your freshman year of high school. You were so desperate to be loved and wanted that you let him treat you like trash. But you stayed, you stayed because you feared if you ever left that you would be alone forever. Eventually, your mind began to wonder if this was what love was all about. You were only 6 months old when your parents passed away, so you had no idea what real love looked like. At some point, you began to accept that you were stuck, he was probably right, no one else could ever love someone as broken as you.

This was it, this was why you couldn’t say those three words back to Luke. You loved him with all your heart but growing up your mind had been trained to think love meant something very different. When you finally got away from Darren, you made a vow that you wouldn’t say those words again until they meant something again.

When you were seven, the girl’s home you lived in took a trip to Australia; this was where you met Luke. Being so young, you thought of him as a playmate and nothing more. You and Luke played together on the beach almost every day. At the week’s end, you two exchanged addresses and promised to write each other frequently.

You two did your very best to keep in touch and became great friends through the years. Now the little boy you met on the beach was grown up and touring the world with his three best friends. Around the time you began dating Darren, the two of you lost contact. He was busy touring and you were busy trying to graduate high school. After a while, you gave up any hope of expecting a letter and figured Luke had moved on with his life and left you. Goodbye was all you had ever known, so why would you expect this to be any different.

After breaking up with Darren, you ran all the way back to the group home, not knowing what to do or how to handle your emotions. After composing yourself again, you decided you needed to do something, anything! You were not sure what made you do it, but you decided to sit and write a letter to Luke. He always seemed to know how to cheer you up, but would he even reply? Would he even care? It didn’t matter, you had to try.

Looking back now, you are so glad you wrote that letter that day.

A couple of weeks later you received a reply from Luke with tickets to his concert in your town. You went, saw him, and the rest was history. You guys exchanged numbers and from then on phone calls and facetime were a nightly occurrence. After a few weeks of talking, Luke asked you if you would be interested in starting a relationship. At first, you were hesitant, after everything that happened was it a good idea to do this again? Despite your worries, you agreed. Agreeing to be his girlfriend was the best decision you ever made.

Life was so amazing and simple back then, why did that all have to change. Your mind snaps back to that fateful day in the mountains.

You had never seen Luke so upset before, it hurt you to see him this way. The ride home was silent and torturous. He kept his eyes glued to the road, never looking at you. Once you were dropped off at your house, he sped away. As soon as you got in the door your heart shattered; to make matter even worse, it had just began raining. ‘

Through the tears, you heard your doorbell rang; you pulled yourself together and went to answer it.

“Luke”, you said with a mix of confusion and sorrow, “what are you doing here”

“We need to talk”

“Yea, we do”

“I love you, with all of my heart, but I can’t wait around forever for you to be ready to love me back”

“Luke, you know why I can’t say it, I’ve told you a million times why I can’t say. I thought you understood, I thought you were okay with that.”

“I was okay, I really was, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous at this point. You should be over it, it’s time to move on with your life”

“Luke how could you even say that”

“Wait I- I shouldn’t have said that I-“

“You know, I thought you were different. I opened my heart again, which took a lot out of me, and I thought you would protect it and care for it. I thought you were different, but you’re not. I get it, I get it that I’m broken and come with a lot of baggage; but why can’t you just help me carry it until I’m ready to let go.”

There is dead silence, and in that silence, made one of the worst decisions of my life.

“Luke, I don’t think this is ever going to work. I’m not ready to move on and you can’t wait any longer.

Maybe we weren’t meant to be together, maybe this a sign. I- I think you should go”

You stood there waiting for him to say something, anything, but no words came out of his mouth. It seemed as if you were going to explode in tears, but you held back. Without another word, a teary-eyed Luke walked back to his car and left.

Now here you were, two torturous months later, staring at this letter in your hand. Over the past two months, you had done nothing but cry. You could muster up the courage to take down the picture of you and Luke, yet every time you stared at them, your heart shattered a little bit more. You missed him so much that it caused you physical pain, but at the same time, you knew you still weren’t ready to say those three fateful words.

The main thought crossing your mind was that Luke deserved to be with some who could say that to him, someone who wasn’t so broken.

He deserved someone who wasn’t you.

You fully expected to never hear from him again, after everything you said why would he ever want you back?

You had finally accepted that you would be alone forever.

Then you checked the mail this morning. In it were bills, a couple magazines, and the letter you now held in your hand. You had just begun to move on, maybe it would be better not to read it.

No, no. This was not how the story was going to end. Gathering up every bit of courage you had left, you opened the letter and began reading.

My love,

I know a letter from me is probably the last thing you were expecting, but I figured maybe the best way to get my message across would be to take you back to something familiar. I need to tell you that I messed up, I messed up and I am so sorry.

Everything that happened that day replays in my mind like an old song with a catchy tune. Except this song is full of lyrics that I don’t want to hear, they remind me of how badly I messed up. I think of you every single day, and with each one that passes, I miss you a little bit more. All the memories flash through my mind at a million miles a minute.

I try to move on, I really do.

But then I remember the freckles on your back and the way that I used to make you laugh. Every morning I wake up I still reach for you. I remember the roses that were on your shirt when you told me this would never work. You know even when I say I’ve moved on, even though I know that you’re gone, all I think about is where I went wrong.

I still dream for you.

No matter where I go, I’m always gonna want you back. No matter how long you’re gone, I’m always gonna want you back. I know, you know I will never get over you. You are my light, my life my all. I had no right to demand you move on faster. I know you love me, I truly do.

So here I sit writing to tell you that I messed up badly, but I’m asking for a second chance. A second chance to be the support system you need, a second chance to love you. If you’re not ready to say you love me that is okay because you are worth every single second I will wait to hear those words come out of your mouth.

Love Always,

Luke

You stood there in stunned silence for a moment while your brain processed the words you just read. Could it really be true? After all that had happened could he really want you back?

It was the last words, the last words that got to you the most.

“You are worth every single second I will wait”

When you read the words, you could feel every wall your heart had built up shatter into a million pieces. The tears streaming down your face turned from those of sadness to those of joy.

Without even a second thought, you quickly ran to your phone and dialed the number you knew by heart.

Ring, ring

“Hey! I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“Luke I-“

“Did you get my letter? I’m guessing you got my letter, or you wouldn’t have called me. Anyway, I’m so, so sorry and I-“

“Luke…”

You take a deep breath before uttering the next words, it’s time, you’re ready.

“I love you”

#5sos #luke hemmings #want you back #youngblood #fanfic

3 notes · View notes

masterturner · 5 years

Text

long drawn out personal post

this is a bit stream of consciousness, so if you’re reading this and trying to make sense of it, im sorry. its okay if youd rather not. its a lot and its emotional labour to even read it probably. it’s been almost a year since the breakup now. every day closer to the anniversary of it, i feel a little more broken. i’ve had two suicide attempts since then, a prolonged IOP thing, and i no longer see a therapist (though i really should start again). im not crying about borderline personality disorder though. this is all breakup shit. still. im still holding together somehow. i dont really know how, some days. ive gone through the whole cycle of grieving multiple times now, cycling again and again through denial and bargaining and all that, ‘til i reach acceptance and think the hurricane is at its end. then i find i’m just in the eye of the storm, and it’ll soon pass as i get caught up in the winds again. then i do the whole cycle over and over again. thats what the therapists in the IOP said it was. a grieving process. you can grieve the terminus of a relationship the same way you grieve a dead person. it sounds so silly when i make that comparison. they also said that progress and healing are nonlinear and that it’s not really necessarily going to be as simple as passing through the grieving process a single time. i said it sounds silly. its not silly though. its real, and i have to remind myself of that from time to time. i dont usually talk about anything personal on here, and its a little weird that im doing it now. but i guess im doing it because i dont know where else to do it. i could do it on facebook, but it feels attention-grabby, needy in a way i always feel weird being. doing it here under a little ‘read more’ thing feels less obtrusive and private, but not so private that im completely trapped in my own skull again. i hate feeling trapped in my own skull. the anxiety bubbled up and got bad again pretty constantly. it got that way tonight. i felt my heart race while i tried to sleep. usually the worst points stemmed from me looking my ex up and seeing how their life was progressing along without me. unlike me, my ex has a drive and interest in the performance of social media that i generally lack. my social media experience begins and ends in shallow ways: i look at cute butts on tumblr, reblog dumb memes and get vague impressions of things going on in the world and such through the sometimes nonsensical things other people reblog. thats about it. my ex, though, shes the kind of person that does things like update her facebook profile picture at least once in a 6 month period, unlike yours truly. i dont even follow her or have her friended anymore on facebook. heaven forbid i had an instagram to see what kind of stuff was going on there. it always got the worst when i saw her with her new SO. now i get to look at that every time i get the nerve to message her. its literally painful to even look to the extent i have to archive or delete every stray line of text we send to one another afterward. i was seriously in denial - i talked myself into believing the SO wasnt an obstacle, wasnt a big deal, he was just a rebound and it didnt invalidate me. it didnt make me lesser, and it didnt mean that i was being replaced. after all, what stranger can replace 5 years of memories and experiences together? but i was a rebound too, and that led to a deep and intense relationship. why couldnt it this time too? i was naive, i think. hopeful and naive, and i really wanted to believe this and that. ‘i know her’ i’d tell myself. ‘i know her, and i know she wouldn’t think this’ or ‘she wouldn’t do this’. but it’s wishful thinking. maybe a part of me always did know better. maybe i stopped listening to that part of my own psyche because i started to recognize how harmful it was. it’s kind of messed up how that works though? like... you can be happy with someone, but also be terrified of that day when they realize they can do better. and then it becomes a sort of twisted, fucked-up self-fulfilling prophecy because that thought sucks the life and passion out of you. it’s insidious and slow. and it’s tempting to look at it like ‘i was right all along, everyone will leave me’, but that’s not really how it necessarily is. thats just the trauma talking, the fear, the part of my mind that’s lazy and resigned to suffering and collapse. it was that fear that made it real. maybe if i’d learned to manage that fear, though, things could have been different. would have been different. it’s pointless to speculate on that though. the reason i say it isnt to speculate though, it’s because im trying to remind myself that it can apply to right now. the friendships and relationships i have now - few and far between as they may be, stretched thin as they may be, damaged and in dire need of repair as they may be - aren’t doomed to failure just because i’m afraid of loss and abandonment. the collapse doesnt have to be inevitable. maybe talking like i’ve learned and figured something out from all this will make me feel better. maybe believing it all had a purpose will make it feel like it was worth it. eventually. right now, though, it doesnt. i’m still so upset. i’m still miserable and i still long for things i can’t have. i miss affection. i miss being touched, even in a plain and nonsexual way. i miss being kissed and i miss being hugged. i miss being wanted, and every day i wonder if ill ever feel that again. and then i get to thinking, would it be enough to feel that from just anyone again? why do i feel so starved for... any kind of affection at all? why do i feel so desperate for something - anything like this? could anyone ever love me the way my ex did? i guess the cynical and plain answer to that is no, but thats okay. and maybe someone else can love me better. and maybe that desperate longing to be loved, cherished, cared about, touched, anything is just a symptom of an addiction that’s yet to pass. kind of a cold and clinical way to put it though, and i dont know if thats really me. yet i dont want someone else because its not enough to just have anyone. my ex left me, and now i still have that feeling of being invalidated, devalued, abandoned, and ultimately replaced. even if someone else came along and professed undying love for me, no matter how i welcomed it, that feeling of being tossed aside would remain. and i dont know how to come back from it. i hate how much my mind... fixates on it. like... everything makes me think of it. i cant make a status on facebook without wondering if my ex will see it, what she might think. i cant leave my house and go somewhere without wondering, what if my ex sees me? what would she think of what im doing? would she approve, or be proud of me? would it impress her? or would it disappoint her? it saps the joy out of almost everything i do. i cant watch an old show without feeling bad im watching it without her. i cant help but wonder if she feels the same, or if shes gotten over it. and a part of me doesnt want to know the answer to that wonder. does she still listen to mili? coheed? does she listen to ‘old flames’ on repeat like i do? when ‘sweater weather’ comes on, does she think of me or someone else? even now as i write this, i wonder if my ex still stops to peer at my dumb blog from time to time for a hint of how im doing and what im thinking. and i dont even know if id want to know, because seeing this message in that light casts a pall over it that makes me feel sick. i didnt want my ex to see how not okay i am. i didnt want her to see the part of me that feels so sick still. and i dont want to know that she doesn’t look at this either. so here i am at an impasse, writing words and tossing them into the void of the internet, hoping for and expecting only silence, while also hating and fearing the very same. id like to think that maybe this is a sign i dont care anymore, but i think i know better than to really believe that. i force myself every day to just... not reach out. not say anything to her thats real or vulnerable - the few times ive talked to her it feels forced and fake. and it feels like ive cut off a limb, because im so used to leaning and relying on her. but i feel like i have to, because expecting that level of emotional labour from someone that has cut those ties with me seems silly and foolish... not to mention selfish. why? maybe a part of me thinks that by hiding it, i’d win her back someday. or maybe im just afraid of being burdensome and difficult. or maybe i just... genuinely do want her to be happy without me. i wish it was that last one. i wish i could just back off and be happy that shes with someone else that maybe will treat her good in a way that i couldnt, or didnt. i dont know what i want, though. i know what i dont want though. i know i hate feeling like this and i wish i could make it stop, but i cant. its not really getting easier. i had the borderline shit before this, and i could end up meeting the criteria my whole life for all i know. the breakup is just a massive complication in that whole mess, but i dont know if id even know what was wrong with me if i didnt have that relationship in the first place. there was a day a few days ago, or maybe a week or two ago (i dont remember) where i wanted to hurt myself (not physically though for whatever reason), and in order to do it, i made myself do something i was starting to break the habit of doing. i browsed her facebook profile and scoured it for anything that’d make it sting again. i succeeded - it didnt take much. a few pictures, a relationship status change, that was pretty much it. my mind filled in the blanks after that because of course it did. it snowballed into full blown catastrophizing. they’re probably madly in love. they’re probably moving in together, if they havent’ already done so. they’re probably making plans to get married. they’re probably this and that and this and that - like it matters. like it affects me somehow. but it doesnt. not really, not physically anyway. i dont have to look, and its like i hope not looking will make it hurt less. but not looking makes me hope, and hope has bred more hurt than anything else in the past year. since i last looked her up in that fog of need to hurt myself emotionally, a lot of that dreadful hope i had that i could win her back drained away, and i want to believe that the pain will go away now. i havent talked to her since then. i still think about her. i still dream. i still fear and i still wonder and reflect. but i havent talked to her. is that good? is it bad? is it anything other than what it is? does it matter? maybe someday ill be over this. a part of me yearns for that. and a part of me is afraid to ever let go, because what if love wins in the end and all the time we had together meant something after all? did it not mean anything if it didnt end up taking the shape i wanted it to take? no, it still meant something, but does that matter now? i dont know. all i know is that to this day it hurts and... that’s all. thats all i know. eleven months later and it still hurts. but i guess expecting it to be all better after 5 years of dating is a little unrealistic. i thought we were gonna be together forever. forever is a long time, though, i guess. she makes it look easy, but maybe it isnt for her either, even if she’s better at making it look a certain way. i have no way of knowing and thats maddening in its own way. if i had the ability to close that distance... hear her out, be there for her, could i do it? could i get over my own fear and hurt to build a connection again? id love to find out. but i cant seem to get that far. it doesnt matter though. its her life, and she has every right to move on without me. its easy to say ‘poor me’, but theres two sides to every story. a lot of pain that led up to the end. questions i still have that will never go answered, and closure i might not ever obtain. ctrl+a, delete, backspace. that’s all it’ll take, tyler. then maybe you can sleep. but no, instead you’re going to post this. for what? why? is it a cry for help? complaining for the sake of complaining? i dont know. i cant leave it all in my own head though. but the silence that i get back in response is liable to be deafening all the same

#do not reblog this

2 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Masked (Shalaska) Ch.2 - Anna

A/N hi guys! im sorry it took me so long to post another chapter, i figured you liked it since i received a lot of feedback on the first one! thank you all so much and i hope you enjoy this one too! i basically wanted to write something different, in most of shalaska fics ive read alaska is the vulnerable one, but what if the things were the other way around? i have an entire concept for this fic, so if you want me to ill keep writing! (anxious thoughts and panic attacks are written from personal experience so i hope its accurately described haha also i apologize in advance if the language offends anyone, i myself am a member of LGBTQIA+ community and that is certainly not my intention.) -xx Anna

trigger warnings: strong language, panic attack, violence

„Yeah, yeah, I’m late, whatever, you can be happy I even showed up.“ Sharon said entering the room, cutting off the teacher. She looked around the room, searching for her mystery girl. She was sitting in the first row, right in front of the teacher, listening and taking notes. Sharon noticed how her nose scrunched up when she was focused and how her tongue stuck out when she wrote. Cute, she thought as she walked to her seat in the back of the room. No one was sitting next to her, no one was sitting in the entire last row for that matter. From here she couldn’t see the blonde, only her messy bun, but she was still mesmerized by the presence of this girl.

Sharon was trying to think of an apology, but she had no idea how to do these things. She was never good with feelings, emotions or compassion. That’s why she didn’t do relationships. She would just distance herself from the other person in the fear of fucking it up, leading to her ending up hurt and heart-broken. She wouldn’t say she was scared of vulnerability and intimacy, but she didn’t want people to see her emotional side. So she just gave up on that idea, besides she never really saw the point in relationships. One night stands were something she enjoyed much more. Just lust and sex, no emotions, no feelings, no talking. The walls she built around herself, this mask she was wearing was working, she was confident, beautiful, dangerous, something she couldn’t say about herself a few years ago. She learnt from her mistakes, and she will not repeat them. „Hi! Um, I…I just wanted to apologize again…“ that soft voice. Sharon looked up and saw those warm deep brown eyes again. She realized the class was over and the beautiful girl was standing in front of her. Apologizing. To Sharon. Brown eyes were looking at her icy blue ones, nervous and scared. „Oh. No, um, I’m sorry, I was mean…“ I was mean? Are you stupid?! You’re just embarrassing yourself, shut up and leave, this girl is too good for you anyways, don’t even try. Look at her, she’s an angel, so innocent and pure, you’ll just hurt her. You’re not good enough. Leave before you embarrass yourself again. A familiar voice in Sharon’s head spoke, a voice she was hearing her whole life, the one she was trying so hard to fight. „It’s fine, I’m surprised I didn’t get a punch in the face“ the girl giggled and extended her arm „Alaska.“ Sharon was looking at her dumbfounded. She knows who I am, why does she want to talk to me? „Sharon.“ she said as they shook hands. „I know.“ Alaska said. She was even more beautiful now that she was smiling. „That’s a weird name. It doesn’t suit you.“ Did you really say that out loud? God, you’re more stupid than I thought you were. She’s gonna walk away and never talk to you again, she doesn’t need someone like you. Just leave, you’re hurting her. Alaska’s smile didnt drop. Instead it widdened „Alaska is a weird name, but at least my parents didn’t think I was going to become a drug addict.“ Sharon smiled. Why are you smiling? That wasn’t funny, she’ll think you’re stupid. „What does suit me then?“ Alaska added, oblivious to the fight in Sharon’s head. „I don’t know, something pretty like you.“ Sharon replied. So you’re saying Alaska isn’t a pretty name? You’re insulting her! Alaska blushed a light pink. God, she was gorgeous. She’s probably straight, don’t get your hopes up. And even if she wasn’t, she definitely would want you. „Um, I have to go to the next class. What do you have?“ she asked Sharon. „Maths, I think. I dont know, I dont have my schedule.“ Sharon replied as they exited the classroom. „I have Maths too! We can walk together!“ No, no, no, no, you can’t, you’ll embarrass yourself more. You’re not good enough, leave her alone. „I’d love to, but I think I’m gonna skip this one. I hate the subject and the teacher.“ Why did you say that? Now she’ll think you’re avoiding her. You’re stupid, this is why you shouldn’t talk to anyone. No one likes you. „Yeah sure, no problem. Gotta keep that reputation up!“ Alaska winked and walked away. Sharon ran outside. The voice in her head was only getting louder. She doesn’t like you, why would she? She’s smart and pretty and you’re not. Not good enough. Never was, never will be. Look at you, skipping class because you can’t talk to her. You don’t deserve to be happy. This is why no one likes you, you’re stupid, a piece of shit. Not good enough. Not good enough. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, calm down. Exhale, not good enough. Her breaths were short, the pressure in her lungs was unbearable. Her throat started tightening. Not good enough. She wanted to escape but she couldn’t. You can’t do this here, someone will see you you’ll embarrass yourself. Inhale, exhale. The voice was filling her head, she felt like throwing up. Inhale, exhale. She was cold but her skin was burning. She slid down the wall to the ground, tears now falling down her cheeks. She tried to calm herself down but she couldn’t. Inhale, exhale. The knot in her stomach only became tighter and the voice didn’t go away. You’re pathetic, maybe you’ll finally die. She was shaking as she rocked back and forth, mumbling calm down and breathe to herself. After a few painful minutes, her breathing started to normalize again. She lit up a cigarette, but she remained sitting on the grass. You can’t go through this again. You have to control yourself, she thought. Panic attacks weren’t a new thing for Sharon. In fact, they happened very often, her social anxiety always triggering them. But she never said anyone what was going on in her head, she didn’t want to seem vulnerable. She couldn’t allow people to see this side of her. She didn’t want people to know that she was struggling and fighting her inner demons every day. She was Sharon Needles, she wasn’t scared of anything or anyone, that’s what people thought and that’s what she wanted the to think. Her thoughts quickly disappeared when she saw a familiar figure exit the school building. Alaska. She was gingerly walking around the yard, her previous confidence gone. Why is she alone? Does she not know anyone here? How could people not want to be around her? Sharon thought. „Hey, dyke!“ Sharon heard a voice echoing around the yard. Everyone fell silent. She quickly stood up. She was used to homophobia by now, but if this person thought they were going to get away with it, they were terribly mistaken. She saw a tall, raven haired girl move to the middle of the yard. Violet. Sharon scoffed. Violet thought she was something, wanted to look tough and untouchable, and she did that by bullying other, weaker people. She once picked on Sharon, and when she got beaten up, she never even came near Sharon again. Then who was she talking to? Sharon then saw Alaska, frozen in spot, clearly shaking and firmly grasping her bag. „What’s the matter, lesbo? Kitty got your tongue?“ Violet approached Alaska with a smug grin on her face. Sharon was having none of it. „Oh Sharon! So nice to see-“ Violet didn’t finish her sentence. She was now laying on the ground, swearing and squeezing her nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. „I would beat you up again but you’re not even worth it.“ Sharon said and added „If I ever hear you talking shit like this about anyone again, I will make sure that you visit your plastic surgeon again, we all know those lips are fake doll!“ Sharon now turned to Alaska. She was still shaking and her pupils were dilated with fear. „Are you ok?“ Sharon asked her in a soft voice. „Y-yeah, I’m fine, y-you didn’t have to punch her though…“ Alaska was trying to compose herself as the commotion in the yard was settling down and people were walking away. „Violet is a stupid whore and she deserves much worse than just a punch in the face, trust me.“ A small smile appeared on Alaska’s face, but she was still visibly upset. „Come with me.“ Sharon said and thought about taking Alaska’s hand, but figured the girl probably wouldn’t want that, not after what just happened. They started walking towards the dorms in silence. „Thank you.“ Alaska said quietly „You really didn’t have to do that.“ Sharon didn’t know what to respond so she just nodded and kept walking. „You’re probably going to get in trouble for punching another student.“ Alaska continued, trying to start a conversation. „Not the first or the last time I end up in detention.“ Sharon said „Besides, Violet should be the one who gets in trouble, she started it. But the teachers don’t care, all she has to do is bat her long lashes at them and they forgive her every time. They think she’s an angel or something, its annoying.“ „She’s done stuff like this before?“ Alaska asked reluctantly. „Yeah, all the time. Nowadays, not that much, because I may or may have not beat her up…“ Sharon replied with a small victorious grin on her face. Alaska couldn’t help but chuckle. „Has she…has she ever insulted you?“ she then asked sheepishly, almost as if afraid Sharon would do the same to her if she asked too much. „Only once.“ Sharon said. „Come here, I want to show you something“ She took Alaska’s hand and felt an unfamiliar flutter in her chest when the girl squeezed her hand back. They walked behind the dorm building, where Sharon pulled down ladders that were leading to the roof of the building. „Are you scared of heights?“ Sharon asked Alaska, completely forgetting to ask about that earlier. Alaska shook her head and started to climb the ladders. Sharon was right behind her, wondering why did this girl trust her so much. She could kill her up there and no one would find the body. She was pulled out of her morbid thoughts by the sway of Alaska’s hips in front of her, and suddenly she had to focus on not falling down. When they reached the top, Alaska looked around with a big grin on her face. From here you could see the entire property of the boarding school, or prison as Sharon liked to call it. Sharon focused her gaze on Alaska instead of the surrounding nature, she’s seen it thousands of times, the beautiful girl in front of her was much more captivating. „What?“ Alaska pulled Sharon out of her trance, smiling and looking expectantly at her. „Hm? Oh, nothing, just, um, nothing“ Sharon replied offering a small smile. You’re fucking this up, she hates you. The voice she dreaded hearing was back, consuming her thoughts. „It’s so beautiful up here.“ Alaska continued to look around and admire the sight. „Not as beautiful as you.“ It took Sharon a few moments before she realized what she said. A deep crimson blush covered her cheeks as she stared down at the ground, not wanting to see Alaska’s reaction. You��re such an idiot, who says stuff like that? She’ll think you’re creepy and run away, you’re scaring her. Oh, so you’re blushing now? What are you, in middle school? She heard Alaska giggle and couldn’t help but to look up, only to see that Alaska’s cheeks were painted a rose color too. „You’re too sweet“ she said trough her giggles „You’re not that bad yourself, you know that?“ Alaska batted her long lashes at her and walked to the edge of the roof to sit down. She patted the space next to her, motioning Sharon to come sit next to her. Did she, did she just…compliment me? No she didn’t don’t be ridiculous, look at you, she’s way out of your league. Don’t get your hopes up. Sharon thought as she plastered a smile on her face to mask the confusion in her head and went over to sit next to Alaska.

#sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #masked #anna #boarding school au #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #tw strong language #slow burn #tw violence #rpdr fanfiction #submission #lesbian au

27 notes · View notes

fertile-delirium-blog · 7 years

Text

You know, everything I ever worked towards, care about, love or have been lucky to come across or been given an opportunity to, I’ve always gotten to a point where I fuck everything up realise where I went wrong or what I keep getting told I do or am and honestly everyone I ever believed enough to let in and be a bit of the real me or all of the real me, since I was little, I been trying to run from this sadness that I later found out is developed or called depression that I realise, I’ve never understood it, I never thought id have mental illness and I ran, I denied for so long.. people telling me I need help, I had a system that worked, a system that never allowed me to be verbally honest with anyone enough to actually get to know me , without the fear and what ifs that I now know is anxiety, funny I never really, really knew what it was but turns out the two together destroy my life, ever since high school, ive wanted to continually improve myself no matter what anyone said and the same time I maintained an image where I made myself make everyone view me the opposite of what I felt I was, when im angry, im actually upset, I made myself seem like I was okay enough n making it on my own so people wouldn’t view me as weak or a being who needed sympathy or attention or some street kid goimg nowhere when really, for too long all I wanted was to find where I belong n do what in my heart I felt n feel like will come back, be music that expresses things I can’t say or feels weird coming out of this mouth that isnt mine, dont feel right. Communication.. something ive never had real, experience with.. was mainly mute other than my outward image for my protection and other peoples shit for so many years before I met her, she made me want to talk, opened up n be the me I feel I am on the inside, but, how easy did I really think it was gonna be? …a lot easier than it was/is.. I’ve always been a lone wolf.. why did I think I could have a family life like that when… I convinced myself with this act I was over shit I wasn’t, that was my fuck up this is all before I fell in love and its funny… it’s a boy cries wolf story, she loved me.. I loved her but something in me didn’t let me properly love her the way I should’ve but if I knew then what I know, my god things would be different and this is what I was afraid of.. completely giving in to her that… I wouldn’t care about myself as much just wanted to make her n kids happy, that’s what made me happy that’s the reason for my being as the opportunity to do so after terrible things n times had us far away for a long time and realised that they the family I chose to have n m sorry I let you all down I’m sorry my bpd, bipolar depressive states is what im trying to focus on to gwt better, since I actually believed everyone but 18 years of unsaid, undealt with and put away in the black box f nothing, isn’t easy to unfold , realise grow, accept, change, love, heal myself and be what was wanted or needed to best of my ability, truth is with her, this focus on making my life a certain way disappeared, never thought it would happen.. i want to do n cater n help n just be n do or try to what it s she wanted if me, I tried I fucked up in the beginning, but still pay to this day.. sigh the balance of who I on the inside is out of whack n has changed.. I don’t think anyone ever did I thought I showed n expressed enough to understand, I guess, if im too sick to love I shouldn’t get on the way of where she wants to go n do, its a shame really, right girl wrong time, don’t care if we were meant to be or not the universe chose you that I loved that much I wanted to make a life, thins I did out of spite, jealousy, anger, major depressive states too much drugs or too long on drugs wasn’t really me, the me I thought you knew n loved was that you made me happy, only person to do that that’s not my siblings.. then there are your beautiful kids I’ve let down too many times.. idk what made me think I deserved you 3.. maybe the fact that I was hoping we all changed n we were happy, we were, that’s not fantasy, we had some great, great times ill never let go of wanted my career I chased for since I was a kid n ended up getting n wanted to have the normal family as well but I chose them in the end n always will but I gotta keep away for her, for them.. every time I get into this stupid certain major depressive state.. I do things to make it harder on myself but you know what the problem is.. the real me is hidden in a cube within and I can see everything.. and that’s not the real me. That’s something dark attached to me that wants to keep me hidden away.. so how do I defeat this other person I’m watching from the inside take over a beautiful physical being I don’t feel is mine and causing such pain for both her, I and my ex gf and her kids and tearing everything that’s mine (the inside) and hers(outside) causing such hate n was for each other n causes such distress for those who actually love me.. I would like you, any of you to hold my hand throughout me getting better.. but I also know I’ve had my times with help n no help n I run away.. I know how hard it is for anyone to love me.. or be there for me I want all to be happy n move on with their lives get And do things the deserve.. I don’t wanna hold anyone back jus because they care.. I’ve been alone since I was little.. may as well stay alone to the end.. cant bear to love.. there’s only her I will never have kids, it’ll always be them, don’t want to cause pain because I’m hard to love because I’m sad with myself n wanna make you happy same time.. god how did I get here.. I got nothing n no one.. at all n all I had before her was a dream I made into reality then set bar higher only to fall that fucking hard to be half the reason I hate myself and before that tried to be an accepted part of my family n moved on to my dream knowing my family will never know.. what ive felt, how low I sank at the age of 8, understand or acce ppl t me enough.. the most truth I can give them is that I want to die cos im not good enough for this world.. items are not feelings, being raped and beaten for 5 yrs of my childhood n being too scared to tell anyone due to death threats then once it comes into the open is apologetic and sad for then my mum gets angry at me cos she cant accept it sober,.. I do blame him.. but I also know that its my fault ive let him win and affect me as a person n how I grow for so long and being told o can do something bout it going to yoir mum n her telling me its no use they wont find anything too late to be then told 5 yrs later that, I can still do something about it.. and I havent.. all these little bits and pieces make sense from the moment of my mums impregnation to now that maybe, just maybe I was never supposed to have been born.. I don’t belong on this world, I was an unwanted mistake that had no friends got bullied, raped, beaten as a child to getting away from that man that is your brothers dad also and my brother ended up being my best friend mid teens to not even know what a friend is other than knowing not to let anyone know the bad I been through and alone.. always have been alone no one sees the me that stands behind this beautiful, sad but always fake smiling so i don’t seem so broken shell of mine.. no one can hear me but the people in my head and none of them want to let me out.. guess I don’t deserve anything else but being alone trying to fight people I can only hear.. if I used to see any of them..when I did see silhouetted bodies before I had too many drugs and certain.. things went away.. im sorry I blocked you out.. oh silhouetted bodies I miss you.. as scary as it would be sometimes.. you always helped me be strong enough for the next step, if it is you that torments me today.. why? And if it isn’t.. is it just mental illness?. Or is it so much more than that..

Was I killed or kill myself too early in past life I went straight through to this one??.. from the moment I was born I was not meant to exist.. im sorry to the people who love and care for me… none of you will see me again.. ill save you all the energy, the stress and the pain I’ve previously caused due to my own mind and my feelings but know if you could hear me.. not this voice of mine verbally.. but if you or i could translate it or if you could hear my inside voice I promise that all would be understandable.. no confusion, no bullshit, no actions I didnt make but she or they did.. they just want to break me.. all but one laugh at me, mock me, talk to me and then to her on the outside as a fucking game or to make us continually clash and that ruins me, my ex gf, and well because of all that I distanced from kids when asked.. and have gotten so far it breaks my god damn heart.. gonna be like my brother, like my sister.. cant be apart of their life, cant watch them grow but silently love all 3 of them silently from afar.. I don’t want anyone to love me and I don’t want to love anymore than I already do as long these people and depression n whatever else they say I got continues to win this fight.. hopefully at the moment.. they make m e want to die. For silence, no more memories, feelings and they make it known that this is not my body.. I a excluded from all beings.. even the one I reside in.. no support. Don’t want friends, don’t want family.. I just wish I could’ve gotten better for the ones I love and who love me.. im sorry .. I dont want a life anymore. I really realize .. I was not meant to.. I hope that everyone I love will hate me, already does,or will and can forget me.. I did have some real, real hapy good times with you mum, lola, jaiden, mia, rachele, LJh and TRh.. sorry Ive said and done some fucked up things and I hope if you do remember or think of me it wont always be bad because I had and was a genuine happy and fun girl at times. Especially with you guys. And im sorry if you guys dont know which ones are real and fake..im sorry .. I wanna get better but realising I was never meant to be here,n if I was it was to be alone n silent I was right tho.. im not here to have a life for me or make one for myself nd hurt people in process. I love in times of darkness and undenying voices… I dont need your care.. I dont want you to feel sorry I just hope when you think back on me maybe.. youll see the peaks of the inside me get let put due to the help from my outside n i ts something we don’t n wont talk bout..I wont make anyone put up with me just because they are or I am loved. Not anymore.. I love you all.. hope everyone gets what the want and deserve. And to the parents of whos kids I love as my own then just fucking distanced due to how I am not thinking boit if or how itd affect them.. im sorry fo all the wrong ive done by them but know how happy and grateful I am for you guys bringing them into this world.. we all know im shit at doing what im supposed to and moat times I was shit to them.. I dlnt k know if i t was noticeable but I did try.. but thank you for letting be apart of that and being “snips”.. and giving me a chance to love them and treat them like my own I wish I did better with all of you, their family, my family im sorry whatever this thing is im just sorry I ruined some good things and hurt people I love n who love me.. never again.

I love you all.. I feel like I didnt get to say it all.. but, o can’t keep crying.. I been typing for 2 hrs… I will be making another account and this will be my lalst post as mariah elrington. To the world and the people I love… im sorry. I hope ypu forgive me and see the good person I always tried to be I will love yo and appreciate you all forever.. im sorry that since I came to world I was doomed to be nothing but a problem but I swear.. I swear on everything… I always try to be better but fall harder.. doing this on my own and voices, my thoughts and the opinion of those who love me see the opposite to what im doing or how I am.. its really hard.. ive never done it this mentally tough before.. well on drugs trippin on non real stuff but this.. this is real life and for once, I dont have anyone to talk to even on a vague level.. not even a pen and paper.. this, this is all so o guess thank you tumblr idk how worst id be without you ..I love you all… this is the fkn truth.. I never meant for it any of it to be als bad as they are between my two families I love. I hope you can get it right, now without me, the problem, the burden,.the dralin and be happy I meam that from thr deep.side of my heart, I really hope I haven’t fucked it enough you wont recover.. but I may be a bit over my head.. they won’t care.. I mean they will for a short time,, but will be happy not long after no Im not saying im gonna kill myself, we all know I can’t. But none of you will see or hear from me again.. because I love you. And I love you alll im deeply sorry I couldn’t express or show it enough for that you guys to believe that a whole lot or know the extent of how much with how ive been but ti my blood family and made family… I love you all so much its because of you gus im doing this for you other wise ill never leave y'all alone cos I need y'all but can’t and won’t hurt anyone but myself anymore.. almost 3 hrs writing.. I still got more to say but gonna leave it there.. god damn it,I love you and I do hope my whole family have a good life n im sorry I ruined the parts of it that I did but be worry free I dont want anyone trying to reach out to me after this. Wil be ignored or unseen..

I love my families and im sorry I couldn’t get it right to be good enough well enough to not negatively affect you.

Have a great life, drink, party, love do the things you want and think o f me as okay if it helps just please,if you love me dont ever get worried.. dont ever assume anything just be be fucking happy, experience, travel, grow Chase dreams.. trust, they are possible no matter situation, lonliness or head space,long as you believe youre gonna.make i t real and do what you gptta to make it gappen, if some like me not even suppose to be alive can do it, you strong, smart beautiful family of mine I believe in you.. to all of you every age. and each everyone of you deserve it. The good fun or happy life with its obvious small obstacles that isn’t as stressful or hard t fix asits been as of late..

I am sorry. I love nd appreciate you all. And you will all always be in my mind And my hearts im sorry im too mental im sorry for all ive done.

I love you all.

Goodbye forever.. all 7 of you ill love always. Pls keep the good bout me in your hearts if you can’t forget. I miss you all like crazy wish I could see you all again to give a goodbye hug.. but a visioned one is gonna have to do. Know that’s the last thing youd recieve from me if that were the case.

Goodbye my precious family I loved dearly but took for granted and couldnt get better.. im sorry I put you all through so much. I really am I wish all of you could see how much love I got for each and everyone of you cos I know I didnt do that good of a job to make sure it was known but I hope it is not.. love you please be happy for me too, if its worth anything to any of you, cos idk how long it'll take to feel it again.

Goodbye fams.

-Mariah Elrington

#personal #this time for real

5 notes · View notes

somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

Text

so he calls me and asks whats wrong. and i feel like this is trapping me because i cant express anything but by not expressing it it creates a cycle. i told him i didnt want to go to the park tomorrow. to me, i expected like an oh well whatever and i’d watch some videos and go to sleep.

but now he was starting into his shit again. and hes telling me its not okay im not referred to a psychologist and that the doctor is not enough. but its like.. he does not understand clinical depression. like he doesnt understand how far depression can affect every single thing in your life and to explain this is an excuse. like why didnt you do xx today, why did it take this long to do this, why do you nap so much etc. and its like.. im tired. im really tired of being alive. and you should be fucing grateful that im sitting here today talkng to you because everyday is a choice to be alive. i AM choosing to be here DESPITE everything that says i shouldnt. despite everything that makes it super hard.

but its all an excuse. its all “defeatist”. but its like.. i dont sit here and tell you word for word what ive spoken about or what has been said to me. the first few visits were in the understanding that i was clearly really really fucked up. like i believe the doctor believed that i was very close to commiting suicide but i was functioning at a level that i didnt need to be tipped over. like he had a real chance of helping someone in need and he jumped at the opportunity. and the trust had to be built - he asked me questions about my life and the history and we had to dicuss in depth my mother whom i have not spoken about in 7 years.

and like part of my problem is beating myself up. like .. wow i was such a shitty kid, i was a terrible daughter to my mother - i must have been the things she said i was and that must have contributed to the eath of my father so it must be my fault. do i “believe’ this? like reallyyyy believe it? no. cuz im not dumb. these people lived their own crazy lives. but this was my life for 25 years. TWENTY. FIVE. not like oh i had a break and was a drug addict for 7 yrs. no. all twenty five years, every damn day of my life was dedicated to these people. every. single day. my own mother tried to have the cops do something for me 4 months before she died because she knew that the relationship i had with my father was detrimental on like a next level.

but how do you turn away from a sick person? how do you do that? he said i should feel pride. i should feel like i had strength and look at it as positive. which is fine - it’s fine. but dont you see? dont you see i put in TEN YEARS of UNPAID WORK to have a man DIE? do you know what i got from the responsiblity to other people? to be on another persons schedule? to live another persons rules?

nothing. absolutely nothing. and ive seen “grown men” decide to stop working for months at a time because a job let them go for a reason they didnt agree with. like they got “fucked”. but i really got fucked. and yu now what thanks i got?

people like him telling me i didnt do anythhing but watch tv and smoke weed. youre right. i did. in between making meals and cleaning up blood and shit, i smoked weed and watched tv. that was my only fucking solace because i could not go away for longer than a night without serious concern for my father. but i smoked weed. and i watched tv. so that means i didnt “work hard”.

but the thing is - no one my age has been a full time caregiver. no one. not a single person can tell me what its like to be a caregiver or how i should feel or what the ‘right amount’ of work is. in reality - if you believe i smoked weed and watched movies and he was always “going to die anyways” then how much “work” did i do in the decade he wasnt dead? how did i manage an entire decade with a man hell bent on killing himself? tell me how i didnt “work”.

and im not into this argument anymore. i will not allow a single person on this earth to speak on my time with my father. not a single person knows ANYTHING about this time except me and my father and hes dead. and i cannot speak solely on it. thats just my word. so i will never argue about it. believe what the fuck you want because if you dont believe me theres not a damn thing that can be done to change your mind and i dont have to care becaue i know what i did i know the time i spent with him.

but he continued telling me he thinks i should be working and i should be trying harder. i am frustrated - how do i explain the massive concept of trauma and severe depression? do you not understand that “everyones” reaction is part of the problem and stigma of depression? this is why people are suffering in silence - well he goes to work but hes a sever alcoholic. he wants to die everyday but damnit he still goes to work.

and its like none of this at all in any capacity makes me feel different about the world aroun me. why do you want to die? why are you still working and wanting to die? whats the point? because youre ~not dead yet~? awsome. that really gets me going. that sparked the flame right back up inside of me. i cant believe i never thought of that - might as well do it because i’m not dead yet.

and you think its procrastination. that its inherent laziness. do you not think im procrastinating on suicide then? perhaps im just waiting it out? maybe im waiting for the final nail in the coffin; my last reason. either give me a reason to live or give me a reason to die but you know im in purgatory right now.

and thats part of the problem - i’m asking for a reason when i should make a reason. i create my own reason. and i know that. i have worked very very hrd to solidify the concept in my brain that i have to make my own reason - no one will provide a reason and more so its not okay to have someone provide it. because someone could die or leave and then what? you make your own. i made the mistake of putting my reason into a dieing man. and i waited far too long to pull back. even when i wanted to nothing was ever as important, nothing ever fulfilled my life and soul like knowing i was responsible for this person. i had a purpose to be here.

he continued. continued. continued. i finally broke down, “im sorry - you called me. i was sitting here a little sad about to wath fucking gta videos and go to sleep and probably wake up in a different mood. now youve called me and made me so upset that im now in a panic attack and sobbing and contemplating my self worth. how does this help me?”

“this is just my opinion. im allowed to express my opinion when youre life affects me.”

and he continued but continually tried to reiterate that he wasnt attacking me or my methods. it sounded more like frustration and inability to understand. like he was unwilling to accept that as a depressed person i struggled on my own to find a trust worthy doctor after having issues with doctors my whole life. then i allowed this person to help me but it wasnt like.. in the movies. this is not like fairytale romantic manic depressive pixie dream girl. like u loved me so hard i got this help and magically became amazing in 30 days and forgot all my troubles.

this is serious trauma. this is serious trauma that now that we are getting even older has become even more detrimental because i did not even realize how traumatic it was until i learned to be “apart of society”. by “being apart of society” it triggered dozens of things in past trauma that i did not even understand as being traumatized and thus had serious depression and anxiety about issues unrelated to people just being dead. its not like oh my parents are dead and im sooo sad. no. i have a very complex grief that spanned decades and to even expect me to remember what happened to lead me to the conclusions i have now immediately and just convey this to a professional and have them give me a once over and this is how to fix it is soooo naive.

this will be a very long process that involves more than doctors visits. he acknowledged i needed daily assistance to overcome my issues and that my own isolation for so long has prolonger and increased social issues that im not getting around on my own. he told me i needed to “grow up”. i told him i agreed. i said it was very frustrating to be me and know that this was fucked up and still be doing it because i didnt have the tools beyond myself to figure out how to “grow up”. like this is all trial and error for me. no one held my hand and protected me and patted my ass when i came home strung out and fucked up. no one sat me down and told me to put a smile on. i was not in any way shape or form parented by anyone. i have never had a parent. i have been completely independent and have thought indepndently for as long as i can remember. i have always dealt with my issues on my own and have had to care for someone for ten years starting as a teenager. in those ten years i never failed to pay a bill or do something i was supposed to do.

okay. so this is just me. and i would love to have a parent. i would love to have someone who knows more than me around. someone who gives a shit. but i dont. so its just me. and whatever i think is right which has been convoluted by a dieing man and mentally ill woman. thats my foundation. so im sorry if im not a fucing university graduate building a 401k driving a car with my own house. im sorry. u know im sorry im not even a fucing fast food mcdonalds employee highschool graduate with 10$ in a savings account and money on a bus card.

but bitch. i’m still here. i’m mad as hell and i’m still fucking here. thats literally the greatest accomplishment for me on a daily basis. its my biggest accomplishment and greatest anxiety. im still here.

i told him again - all of this was making it worse. the real issue i had was having no one to talk to at all. no one wanted to listen to me. everyone wants to tell me what to do or how i should think or some negative opinion because theyre envious that i get ‘free money’.

and the doctor had to convince me to get disability. i told him the people around me felt i could work. he said he did not believe in any way i was capable of holding a job right now and listed a number of reasons why he believed i couldnt, most having to due with symptoms of sever depression. in a switch side, if i listed these reasons i would be told theyre merely excuses by other people and that “they were tired too”. which is why he had to reiterate a number of times to fuck what other people thought. no one has to live my life but me. in reality its disgusting that people continually look down on or disrespect me outright for collecting benefits while they pity me for having issues. it’s hypocritical and bullshit.

finally he said that he wanted to see me do better and wanted to encourage me to find ways to cope with these times of serious depression. i told him that i do have ways to cope - but this is real life and its not always successful. but yet, i have been successful - i’ve not self harmed this year. not because it was “a fad” but because i actively choose not to do that to cope. this is a choice i make during every anxiety attack. this is a sign of strength i have this year i did not last year. so perhaps i spent four hours crying but i did not cut myself or attempt suicide so all i did was spend four hours crying. just so i could be alive right now. so who cares that i spent four hours crying lets be grateful im here now. who cares that it took five days to mail a letter - i mailed the letter. thats what matters. you dont even know that ive been given disability forms twice before that were NEVEr MAILED. fuck they werent even FILLED OUT. so not only did i get these forms, i had them filled out and then i MAILED tHEM. 100% BY MYSELF. my momy didnt help me. i didnt get any fucing drives to the doctor. nothing of this process was made easy in any fucking way. and i did it. so does it matter that ti took five days? absolutely not. even if it took five days, in 60 days do you think itll matter if im accepted? when i have those benefits, do you think itll matter i took 5 days to mail the thing? fuck no. because i mailed it and got the benefits

LET ME CRY. LET ME BE SAD. acknowledge i exist with this sadness!! do you not understand the pain of being ignored when you’re suffering!! i told him that i try to be a good listener for him - i let him speak about whatever he wants, whenver he wants in which ever way he wants to speak about it at the time; if he feels very angry and upset at something and expresses that, i dont later hold him to it and say “well u were angry about this before now ur not how come”. i said i never express my opinion because im a listener just listening so i acknowledge him and if i think hes doing something that is harmful to him i say something like “i dunno if thats a good idea” or “i wouldnt personally do that” or “thats gross” (usually used in context with an elaborate idea involving sex or drugs).

he paused and said that was true and i did do that. i told him i just wanted someone to listen to me. all i really needed to be “helped” was for someone to listen without any preconceived notions or opinions they wanted to put on me. just accept the words im saying and perhaps if possible express some empathy of some kind because they understood the sentence i put out in the world and maybe they can say something like “i bet this thing happening to you would cause this feeling.” to demonstrate that they understand the connection between an event and the reaction to the event and that i am not an insane weak dumb person for having an emotion. no one does this for me. no one. including him. and i believe at this moment he understood, finally, that no one does this for me. including him. tht i am a good listener, that i do not bring him down and allow him to be his own person until i think something is harmful and then i try to express to him my serious concern about his thoughts but not tell him hes a bad person for those thoughts. hes not lazy or stupid or evil. i tell him based on personal knowledge and experience why i think its harmful and rarely is it based just on a personal opinion. like i dont say dont do drugs cuz its bad. i say dont inject drugs, dont take drugs on a regular basis - all very valid safety concerns in the use of drugs. it is not “dont do drugs”. because i know that for something to matter to someone long term you have to create your own purpose. he cant not do drugs for me or any other person. he hs to not do drugs for himself. but i can encourage better use of drugs.

finally he apologized - an apology that has been maybe a year in the making. he said he realizes now that being aggressive and negative about things is not helping anything and that he should be encouraging about positive things in order to promote me actually recovering. he said he was “man enough” to admit that he was wrong and that this is something he should work on to better support me because he believed i was making an effort.

but it was a very good example of something that was small that couldve been handled differently that became a massive overwhelming issue. his bottom line was that i should see a psychologist. i told him i would tell my doctor that the person closest to me in my life is saying they believe i need more/additional help than whats being provided because they want to know the person im seeing to get help is specialized in helping people like me. thats totally fine request to make. im not going to argue that the doctor is “enough”. i dont know. maybe hes right. maybe i need to talk to even more people. but to tell me this on top of “blah balh you get welfare you smoke you nap all day etc.” is horrendous and backwards. should i see a psychologist to tell them what an asshole you are and that you probably cause alot of grief in my life?

like how my doctor thinks of you right now?

he couldve just said hey you know i can see youre trying but i want to suggest maybe asking your doctor to refer you to a psychologist again because i think itll be helpful for both of us.

like he wanted to help and was roadblocked by the fact that i had no coping mechanisms for him to bank on. so he was coming in blind and frustrated that he is not even normally capable of being a good “shoulder to cry on” and now he had no instructions but he still had a very sad girl to worry about. and this doctor didnt “give me” any coping mechanisms so what good is this doctor if he cant “fix” the issue he has to deal with now.

but there is no coping mechanism. theres no like “turn on this song and ill be okay”. theres a variety of things i can try to do, not all of them will work, but one will. one will bsolutely because if one does not, ill be dead. one is always going to work even if the one is time. just waiting it out and battlign it in some meditative state. but one will work.

like he disregarded alot of reasons for what i do as like some general thing i just “like”. like some random thing in my head that makes me like it. and im obsessed with watching specific gamers on youtube. i do not play video games. like i have almost no interest in video games. i dont care who the fuck wins. i dont care about the mechanics of a game. i will watch the most boring ass games like a shitty flash game or a fucing terrible job simulator that is just the most complicated system of buttons and bullshit to move a fucing tractor and i would never even remotely consider even trying to play the game let alone download it or install it.

but here i am. hours a day. watching games i will never play by men i will never meet. and i trid to explain this - its “sad” to you that im going to go watch these things. but to me its like.. a graduated version of something that can be simplified with penny lane’s quote, “if you ever get lonely you just go to the record store and say hi to your friends”. like ive always held the idea that music and sound is a constant familiar. so i have specific sounds - much like people have specfic smells or tastes. as a kid my fathers keys jingled in his pockeet and i could hear this jingle from anywhere in the store. like my ears trained to it because i feared getting lost but if i could hear it i knew i was okay. a bit older i grabbed on to all my favourite bands but what i found was after years of doing things, familiarity felt like visitng a grave. like nothing changed. it was so familiar it was stale, it was a nostalgic memory i was visitng and not being embraced by a warm hug. many of my favourite bands broke up and stopped releasing new music.

i told him that the sound of these mens voices was calming. like i had alot of isolation and listening to music or whatever didnt seem real. but here are these real life people who have their own things they do and that happen to them and everyday they pop up and talk about nothing. NOTHING> they come and be like “hey so today we’re going to build a room” or “so today we’re going to race this virtual car” and nothing in the game matters and like people get “mad” but no one is mad. because nothing in the game matters. you die, you come back.

and like the attitude of these people helps. like “damn im in last place today BUT ILL GET YOU” because nothing in the game matters. or maybe you feel invested in some grand feat theyre trying and they dont get it and theyre like ah shit well gotta keep trying. so ive focused on specific gamers who rarely are offensive or loud or otherwise unwatchable.

but he brushed it off a bit, “yeah, yeah, its someone with a comforting voice” but the tone of his voice hinted at jealousy; like why wasnt it him? why couldnt he just play a video game and make commentary and ill feel better? why does it have to be these guys?

and maybe because i dont know them? they will (potentially) never do me wrong. maybe one day they’ll stop recording. theres a small chance theyll say something super offensive or racist. but i mean theyre never going to personally attack me. theyre never going to point me out and say this girl is fucked. i can be their friend without being their friend. i get to be apart of inside jokes and funny conversations but never actually apart of it. i get to feel like i’m not alone while being terribly alone. and i dont think im necessarily choosing this above other things to cope - i think it’s what i’m “making due with”. i found something and it takes such little effort.

im honestly at a point where i am waiting. my current perspective on life is that people are absolute fucking pieces of shit who have little regard for anyone but themselves or their own kind. however there are 7 billion people on the planet and it would be “racist” so say “all humans” are pieces of shit. so like.. a lare majority of humans are pieces of shit and there are a few who are actually good souls but when you have 7 billion ppl and like 100,000 are good - who the fuck cares? thats like a drop in the bucket. to act in the world as though you are encountering those 100,000 ppl on a daily basis is a set up for failure and thus how it creates the cycle of 7 billion pieces of shit because “self preservation”.

from what i have honestly seen of the world - fuck the world. hands down 100% i have absolutely no desire what so ever to participate in society. i have experienced some terrible shit and i have seen and heard some even worse terrible shit and the positive DOES NOT outweigh the negative at all in anyway. the only reason people care about me in any way right now is because i am considered a “burden” to them by having issues. i dont want my issues. i hope i recover and become a mentally sound and healthy individual. because i do not in any way want to be involved with people on a whole. like if i can afford to live alone and buy my own food and not struggle as i have been - i’m done. i’m sorry. i’m waiting to leave society. i realized how disgusting people are and have lowered myself to using them when i can for like the very basic theyre willing to do (despite what i put out i never get remotely the same in return) and when i am capable of supporting myself i honest to god dont thin ill do half or more of the things i do now “for people”. thats the thing - i’m now waiting to isolate myself further because the experience ive had says there is nothing there for me. if i want to live, ill be living alone, secluded and isolated.

because honestly? im not fucing with a single person who did not fuck with me during this time. fuck. you. you let me struggle and suffer alone and youre soooooo happy im on benefits now? no. youre not. youre more than likely going behind my back and talking shit about it anyways but you think im “cool” or “talented” so you’d like to be associated with me. but you dont want any of the “drama” or “baggage” so youre not even really a fucing friend.

the only thing keeping me going right now is the idea that maybe before the end of the year, i wont have to do _this_ anymore. ill get my own place, have my own food, live my own life and i fucking deserve it no matter how much the pieces of shit cry about it and how they dont get it because i dont “get” half the shit they do in their lives and never have. the pieces of shit will always be pieces of shit and they will never stand to see someone have something they dont.

i learned about myself that i like to cook. i like buying ingrediens for food and trying new recipes and i can do that alone. i can just eat nice food on my own. i like to play guitar but i like to play for myself not to share music. i dont get anythng from sharing. its a totally personal experience just for me. and not having the space to be alone to play guitar is depressing. i like animals. i want to learn to travel by myself. i have literally never gone anywhere by myself. LITERLLY. LIT.ER.ALLY. i have never gotten on a bus to another city and been in that city by myself. just like.. existed in the city by myself. NEVER. but i cannot learn this if i cannot travel and i cannot travel without some sort of purpose behind it. i want to go back to making art for me not because im the artist who makes art. i saw a movie by myself for the first time ever last week.

it took 10 yrs to have experiences that 18 yr olds do. im not “living like a teenager”. its that i NEVER LIVED AS A TEENAGER to be able to become an adult. and now that i am an adult i cannot make teenage mistakes.

and thus we give the highest of praise to the singular best accomplishment of my whole life:

not pregnant. do not have kids. not a drug addict. not an alcoholic.

do you understand at all the HIGHEST OF CHANCES i had to have children? i was a naive girl with no parental supervision, no outlet for myself, super emotional & depressed.

then he tells me, “you know, learn from your parents”.

bitch i did. my mother was 25 years old when she met my old ass father and MARRIED HIM ONE WEEK AFTER. did i do this? she did this KNOWING he had little to no feeling of love for her. this bitch had been abandoned and fucked with by her family sooo much she was like the only way out is with this guy and she grabbed on to him and NEVER FUCKING LEFT.

so bitch.

i did.

im 27 yrs old. youre 26 yrs old. i live on my own. you live at home. ive never been pregnant. ive never been married. yep - my mother and i did not “work”. that is a serious flaw we shared. she also never acknowledge the SERIOUS MENTAL ILLNESS SHE HAD WHICH LITERALLY ALMOST KILLED ME NOT LIKE FIGURATIVELY BUT LITERALLY ALMOST KILLED ME AND I DID NOT EVEN HAVE THE WHEREIWTHAL TO KNOW IT HWAS HAPPENING

so i did. i did learn from my parents. my father told me people are fucking terrible and they are. i learned. in fact i did not. i did not learn. i lived in a naivety that people are good. and people want to hear me sy people are good because god forbid they be considered shit but lbr.. you’re probably terrible. i’m pretty terrible. i am totally in limbo where i have like 6 months to a yr before this becomes “my fault”.

so youre right. i am waiting. im waiting to see what independence looks like and whether or not i’d fuck with people like this. and like all i can say is im glad it took 12 months to realize that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. i did thank him. might as well put my own shit into practice - it doesn matter it took 12 months bcause he is admitting it now. and it makes me feel a bit better but at the same time i feel like an obvious statement is if you had known this even 6 months ago, how much better off might i be now? if the closest person to me in life was a positive rather than a negative, how much better would i be now? take some fucing responsibility for the fct that not only do i have to fight myself, but i have to fight through the negativity people like him put on me and decide despite what they aid to stay alive. not like feel a desire to want to because they reminded me of all the good things. i have to fight and be angry and create alot of bitterness towards them and live in spite. thats not fair. and life might be “unfair” and i “choose” to stay aroun someone who has consistently made things sooo bad but my god take 1 second to see it from my side. imagine if i had 6 months of positive reinforcement from the closest person in my life and a professional. i wouldnt have had the second hospital visit. i’d really be in a much better place than i am right now and its SUPER unfair to hold it against me that he cause damaged i had to fix before i could even focus on my actual issues. he held me bac and i allowed him to hold me back and prolong this process. im not even going to blame him like an excuse. i allowed him to hold me back. maybe i allowed it so i would have an excuse. if he tells me all the negative things i think about myself then its like reiterating that what i think is right. it deepens the depression.

but honestly having someone in his position - where he was very much becoming a second coming of my terrible parents, suddenly apologize and admit they were wrong is actually okay. that actually helps my life a bit. for a long time i wanted this from my mother.

0 notes