#but I am still high on meds and sappy with nowhere to go with it

[moronphantom]

this one might get long and sappy, but when I first joined this fandom I was 16 and had just freshly been disowned by my family for being trans, living at what felt like the lowest point of my life. I found a home in dp, in how all the art and stories of him being trans both with and without his family’s support.

today I am 22. I came back to the fandom after being gone for a while, now with a home and a family and a life. I just woke up from top surgery, and on the way to the hospital I kept smiling, kept thinking of young me being so sure it would never happen. but it did! and I keep thinking of Danny, of all the characters, and this amazing fandom who’s helped me get to where I am today. the happiest person I’ve ever been since all the hell I went through before joining this fandom.

so I guess I wanted to say thank you all for creating a place for me to just be me. thank you for all the art, fanfics, theories, memes, and all types of posts who made me smile. I owe every single one of you the world for how much you made me smile and brought me the energy to keep going🫶

(sorry I’m sappy I’m a little all over the place from the meds)

#danny phantom #surgery mention #top surgery #being trans is the furthest from fun to me #but oh my god did you all make it better #sorry for the yapping #but I am still high on meds and sappy with nowhere to go with it #GOD I can’t wait for this to heal

[diaryofmissingjarod]

May 7, 2017

The scabs are nearly gone, from where I picked at my face after I found out.  My fingers are another story, but they’re the older stress reaction.  And once you start picking, the cuticles just keep on peeling until they have to rebuild from scratch.   Sounds like a metaphor for how it feels getting over you, but I suck at writing flowery language.  At least, I think I do.  I just feel so gross. I wish I had talked to you more recently.  I wish I had known.  I wish I could have told you that it will get better. That I couldn’t even believe how much it gets better, but it does, once you get out of high school. Once you get away from your parents.  Admittedly, my parents hardly need getting away from.  Not like yours.  I felt so angry when the pastor told your mom she did an amazing job raising you.  As if the crummy, laptop smashing boyfriends and the forcing you to go to church and the locking you up were only good things.  Of course, I have no idea how much of that was real.  I don’t want to doubt you, but I didn’t even know you were suicidal.  So maybe the mental ward was for your depression, instead of not wanting to go to church.  I’d ask Krissa, but I’m afraid of coming off like an asshole.  She’s been so nice, but I don’t really know her.  You’re our only real link.  She wants me to keep in touch, but we’ve never really talked.  So I have no idea what to talk about except you.  Not to mention our worlds are so different.  She has kids, and a husband, and I don’t know anything about that.  I’ve always been terrible at talking to adults.  Well. Adultier adults.

I’m afraid people are gonna walk by and see what I’m writing.  I feel so ashamed embarrassed about grieving, or figuring out ways to grieve.  I don’t want to make them uncomfortable.  It’s some heavy shit you pulled.  Even if they don’t know you, it’s some heavy shit, and I don’t want to darken their day with it.  But I really need to talk to someone.  I suppose that’s what therapy’s for.  But I almost feel like I can’t wait.  But I’m struggling so much to explain how much I’m struggling and also to not burden people with it. I can’t lie and say I’m fine, but I feel so bad saying I’m not, and explaining how I’m not.  I know they’re my friends, and theoretically they want to know how I am, but I don’t know.  It still feels wrong.  I haven’t even told my parents yet.  I’m afraid Mom will worry about Robbie.  You were his age. And I know he’s doing better than he was, but I’m so afraid he’ll do the same shit and I’ll be part of the blame.  I tried to tell him I don’t hate him.  But I don’t know if he believed me.

I really wonder if I should get my perscription raised.  I’m worried that I’m slipping back into my old depression.  I can already feel the self doubt starting, and the like... black cloud over my heart.  Everything is just so tiring, but I still gotta pass my classes.  It sounds awful even thinking it, but I wish you had picked a better time to die.  I desperately wish you hadn’t done it at all, but I also wish it wasn’t finals.  I’d love to get through this with only 3 Bs.  But the temptation to just not take the Thermo final and get a B is very high.  I can always bounce back next semester?

Arty can go suck my ass.  I can’t believe how much the PaxCraft gang is letting me down. Letting you down.  Then again, I doubt you were thinking about how Billy would react when you shot yourself.  But I can’t believe him.  And the fact that the bot added me to send the virus, and then he re-deleted me! He’s such a prick.  I can’t believe I ever saw anything in him.  He’s just a deadbeat history major.  Him and his terrible beard will go nowhere in life. And it kills me he’ll probably be happy with that.  And that he’ll probably find a nice girl like him and they’ll be happy.  I want to say he doesn’t deserve that.  I really do.  But I know he does, because he’s not that awful.  I also want to say that he should... no, I can’t even say it without feeling bad.  But you could have done so much! I firmly believe you could have written a great novel some day.  You could have gotten accepted to a good school.  You could have come and stayed at my apartment and we could have hung out.  Hell, we could have had Marcus come down and have all palled around together.  It would have been great.  But seriously, fuck Arty.  After all he meant to you, he should have been at the service.  He should have fucking cared. Billy should have, also.  I know that one probably wasn’t out of malice, but I can’t help but hate that, “I didn’t know he was depressed.”  None of us did. Or at least, none of us knew it was that bad for you.  I think I remember you mentioning being on meds, but idk.  It’s been a while.  God, you didn’t even get halfway through high school.  You were so close.  You were almost out.

I also hate that that fucker still keeps acting like Mr. Welldone is his.  And I hate even more that I doubt that you were the one who actually wrote it.  I trusted you implicitly (for the most part) when you were alive.  But now that you’re gone, idk.... Part of me wonders who is really the one who’s lying about it for Internet Points.  I do think you wrote that first part, though.  It totally sounds like you.  From what I remember from the stories and things you would send me.  You had such a way with words, I still can’t believe how mature you were.  I still wanna believe someone like, killed you, instead of you killing yourself.  I wanna believe there’s some grand conspiracy.  It makes it easier to stomach, I think.

I think I should go now.  It’s late, and I need to sleep so I can haul ass on dynamics tomorrow with Rhys.  God bless Rhys for being such a bro, through all of this.  And just in general.  Enough sappy shit for now, though this is definitely not the last of this.  One diary post isn’t gonna fix this.  I really want to find better words for all of those ‘this’s, but I don’t really want to fucking proofread this either.  Just gotta dump and run.  Anyway.  Love ya, man.  I’ll be back

- Scratch

#tw: suicide mention