#im so TIRED im MISERABLE i want to FUNCTION LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

[disengaged]

spent an hour trying and failing to read a book & got so frustrated i wanted to cry . related: broke down & paid $600 for an ADHD assessment next week

#pegasus speaks #since im in a new province without a GP i have to do an assessment with this company thing before i can get evaluated for medication #i straight up just lied and said i don’t have an ED like. i’m so fucking desperate to get some kind of help for this shit #it’s been years of struggling to do every single task in my life or pay attention even when people are talking directly in my face #im so TIRED im MISERABLE i want to FUNCTION LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

[soldier-poet-king]

not to be like my parents are incapable of being happy because theyre pathologically committed to being miserable people and it’s bringing everyone else down and i desperately need to leave but rent is so expensive and i am on a sweet contract for work rn so i cant leave the city for a more affordable city until i find employment but like. ‘everything a goddamn ordeal in area family’ is 10000% correct and im EXHAUSTED

im TRYING NOT TO BE MISERABLE AND DEPRESSED AND CRANKY DURING THE BLUEST TIME OF THE YEAR. I am working on MYSELF and being cheerful instead of cranky even though i want to scream and i am changing my diet bc im having Tummy Problems and im Going to the Gym for the brain endorphins and like. holy shit i went grocery shopping with my mother and i will NEVER do that again it’s exhausting. she’s SO nitpicky and penny-pinching and i GET that that’s how she was raised and we were poor when i was small but 1) we’re no longer THAT poor 2) IM BUYING MY OWN GOCERIES and the mental hoops to save 50 cents is NOT WORTH IT + im going flexetarian so the amnt of money im saving on meat means i can get nice produce 

3) I WANTED TO GO ALONE but ‘this way we save on gas’ like WOW A WHOLE FIFTY CENTS I WILL JUST PAY FOR IT MYSELF HOLY SHIT. she treats everything (cooking, grocery shopping, LIFE ITSELF) like it’s a chore she just has to get through and like sure, she’s a SAHM cooking for a whole house and i have sympathy for that, but like. MAYBE she wouldnt be so miserable and crabby if she took the opportunity to view these things as smalls joys, or at least opportunities for joy. i LOVE cooking and grocery shopping, yes sometimes im tired. but it’s about an attitude of opportunity and wonder at the smallest things. a whole store full of so many kinds of foods? endless opportunity! all these people going about their lives? the smallest children? yes even that cranky woman yelling into her cellphone? wow look at the miracle of human existence. cooking? im sharing love. like yes it IS trite but it is such a wonderful way to live, and before anyone says ‘oh the joy wears off’ it doesn’t!  not if you work to cultivate it! i spent years on my own and i never got tired of grocery shopping it was a weekly joy! 

and then ofc we got home and my father is being pissy and grumpy and it’s just like. LEAVE ME GODDAMN ALONE. let me cook and exist in peace.

like no wonder these ppl are so unhappy if they take every single neutral (or even positive) experience and find a way to deliberately put a negative spin on it, play the ‘woe is me’ long suffering card, blame it on their spouse, etc etc etc. on purpose on purpose, they are determined to be miserable on purpose and it creates this godawful aura of unhappiness in the whole house

and it’s not even like they can play the mental illness get off free card. im more mentally ill that either of them by a SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT. however i acknowledge it. i seek help. i take meds. i do what i can to help myself get to a baseline functional, and from there i work to cultivate peace in a positive feedback loop bc like cbt and ert do work, at least somewhat, if you actually put the effort in. they refuse to acknowledge that their moods and behaviour is abnormal, they refuse to admit anything is wrong no matter how much i plead, how much EXPLICIT ADVICE i try to give, if they wont even see the problem they for sure arent making attempts to fix it.

i am a fuckin adult and my parents mental health is not my responsibility esp after they keep refusing all my offered aid but like. it is very hard to cultivate joy living with people who are SO DETERMINED to remain miserable after literally a DECADE+ of me trying to fix things

i have to come up with interesting excuses to go grocery shopping and cook at odd hours when i can be LEFT ALONE to do the things that bring me joy

#franposting #family bullshit #i am SO ANNOYED #im once again a teen where leaving my room means i enter the Miasma of Misery #take 10d10 psychic damage if i leave the safe zone of my bedroom #bc everyone is SO MISERABLE HERE #how am i the chronic depressed ex suicide the most cheerful functional emotionally mature person here #IM THE ONLY ONE MAKING ANY EFFORT AT ALL #I JUST WANNA MAKE MY LENTIL STEW AND DANCE AROUND IN THE KITCHEN AND CULTIVATE PEACE #i have so much more to say but im a broken record and becoming unintelligible #im just. WOW. FUCK THIS. FUCK THIS SO BAD #im. so tired of fighting it #but i cant be passive they're emotional vampires #and i am trying SO HARD to manage a little crumb of peace. a refuge for my tired heart in these blue wintry months #but like. oh man i am going to start looking at jobs SUPER FAR AWAY after this contract is uo #do i WANT to go to like. idk. fuckin saskatchewan for work? absolutely not #but I WILL IF IT FREES ME FROM TORONTO #i mean there's def the most jobs in my field in the toronto area #BUT I CANNOT AFFORD TO LIVE HERE ON ENTRY LEVEL PAY #like HOT DAMN rent prices in this city #someone in like. the maritimes. hire me. god that's the dream. or montreal. or mid sized city ontario. #i wanna go out west but BC is way too expensive #and i think i might die on the prairies they make me feel so agoraphobic i need hills and forests #and the territories are TOO COLD and DARK

[iambutagrapefruit]

thoughts:

i hv been reminded of how i wld try to take on challenges (willingly) in the past . as a form of self improvement mentally i guess. and now i hv realised i m no longer like that when i instinctively tried to take the presumably lighter bag of groceries and leaving the heavier one for dad. it really brings up the sentiment that i might no longer be as good as my past self

it also reminds me of why the teenage years are typically surrounded by a general theme of joy, happiness and optimism -- the hope that we really do great things and become greater people. when the future seems so distant it really seems like anything was possible. but now as we approach working age we really get a glimpse into how our realities are about to look like and how daily life is like and we know what is achievable and what is not achievable

i dont really know why life feels more miserable now, and why i don't seem to feel connected to anyone anymore. the looming sense of boredom and purposelessness has been there for far too long. is this simply the result of hormonal deficiencies? even if it is, will they ever be fixed? i just don't know how i m supposed to continue really living life like this. it just feels like lockdown came and has stuck around.

i also don't know how seriously to take my ** social anxieties **, i mean given singapore's culture of being "obedient" and it being uncommon to initiate conversation, what am i even hoping for. i guess we could start with curing email anxiety and actually being able to network and talk to people at work . i don't know why everyone else is adapting fine in london and making new friends and talking to new people when im the only one who can't click. im also tired of everyone having to counsel me and make me feel better about things and the fact that i have nothing pleasant to share whenever i meet up with people. it really pains me when i see how people are living now and how far they have gone compared how i am right now and my decline ~~ then again social media only portrays some of the best, so i have to remind myself of that. but even so, i think my point stands.

talking to people at work just feel like a chore honestly. like on a perfectly fine day like today i m already going through the mental fatigue and just have no energy to maintain the fine balance that is being friendly and jovial to co-workers and still being professional. like what is the point. when you spend most of your days on some of these more empty actions. where is the satisfaction and joy that you get from genuinely kind conversations going to come from. but then again i recognise that not everything has to be like that and it would not be better if it was. i guess it's just something i will accept with time and as i get validated abt it (hopefully) i will be more ok with.

in sum-- wld be nice if i cld talk endlessly with someone abt these //woeful thots// n someone who'd be willing to cheer me up and suggest fun things for me to do without it being done out of pity. i also want my confidence back. the feeling of being able to Mother my day to day life.

i wish i cld be that person for myself. i mean, can i?

on a separate but related note: the way i have been spending so much time on social media (as a replacement for real human interaction? to pass time? as a result of boredom?) has caused me to really understand and perceive life in the way that people illustrate it on social media. by that i mean when i wake up each morning my brain is literally flooded with something from the internet and when i go to sleep it is the same. the solution wld perhaps be for me to live in a little scandinavian/ dutch etc. village house where it is beautiful and i hv some hands on work to do each day but not too intensive . wld be best if a cat or dog cld be there. i still can contact the outside world with traditional telephone functions but no social media or internet. also there can't be bugs or extreme heat (like in sg) or cold (like in scandinavia themselves ... or yakutia )

#anyways :~)

[anthosaidsmth]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#vent incoming #hello I am once again using my silly tumblr blog to vent cuz I literally dont have anyone else in my life #life is just nothing but pain and suffering and my feeble attempt at distracting myself for long enough that I wont be miserable 24/7 #and even my distractions arent helping anymore. video games are now useless because of my dumb brain making everything competitive #writing and drawing dont work too cuz Im in a permant state of creativity block. they no longer bring me joy & are just tasks at this point #Im so fucking tired #every day Im just contemplating about how miserable my life have become #my peers are all enjoying a typical teenage life while Im too busy dealing with trauma to be social as soon as Im out of school #every day I have to pretend to be perfectly functional in front of my friends for 8 hours #because I cant just let the connections Ive built up to go after years of work because I am now mentally fucked #why the fuck did my trauma make me constantly crave attention & affection while also make me keep everyone at arms length #& turn hostile every time someone wants to learn more about me #I am constantly surrounded by people I talk to every single day yet I still feel nothing but loneliness #I feel like I am constantly one mental breakdown away from ending it all Im just in this weird limbo of dead and alive inside #if you read through all of these Im sorry but I have to kill you youve known too much #you must only know me as the funny tumblr person & that only

[clerichs-xi]

Getting real on main here bc I'm kinda tired of keeping everything in my head so I'm gonna ramble for a bit bc my blog my posts

Starting to realize more and more i don't know how to interact with people and im kinda starting to wonder if im neurodivergent or if im socially anxious

It's not just I don't know how to interact socially it's more like I don't know how to react in social so I end up mimicking what other ppl do in order to not get a negative reaction/keep up the convo in a natural way. I find I do it more online bc I have time to think about what I do+look back on messages and I end up being so paranoid about what I say or how my messages could get construed differently or how people could negatively react. Maybe it's more that I'm extremely prone to overthinking stuff but either way it makes me feel miserable sometimes, like I can't open up ever and most of the time I end up not opening up. I'm afraid of negative reactions and criticism bc I'm so prone to criticizing others myself. Also i grew up having most of my stuff (achievements, work, expressed thoughts) being reacted to with either neutral reactions or criticism on the basis of humility. Whoa that just got deep lol. Anyways after typing all of this out I feel like my issue mostly lies with my fears of being seen in a negative way or being disliked after saying something so I just end up. overthinking every single thing I want to say or not saying anything at all or both. It's wild how afraid I am of receiving any remotely negative feedback bc the moment I do I'll take to heart way too much and beat myself up over it!! Itll all I focus on and then I'll pick apart every single thing I ever did or said and make myself feel even more miserable!! I'm perfectly capable of discerning when something is my fault just. not when im talking to someone.

Tangent but since I'm here rambling already ill talk abt it and also kinda related. I never feel comfortable enough venting abt my life to close friends bc a) I'm seen as the functional one in the group; b) it seems everyone else's problems are bigger than mine and c) I'll feel like I'm complaining for no good reason mostly bc of a). I did have someone in my friend group say "what do u have to complain abt u have a functional family lol" once and that hurt. And that's why I never share anything anymore lol!!! Bc everyone I know says my life is perfect but a lot I wish I weren't me and I feel so trapped. It's gotten better bc I have been in situations b4 where I vented during really bad situations but I still don't rlly. And the fact that I only feel ok with venting in situations/with feelings that, in my mind, constituted as on par with other people's issues or of a certain level severity that was worth sharing and wouldn't face backlash for is. fucked up to say the least I think. Sometimes I think social media has played a role in fostering this idea bc of ppl constantly comparing and trying to 1-up others with their struggles. or ppl usinh catastrophic world events to go to other ppl saying "ur life will never be as bad as that so suck it up"

Uh anyways I think the neurodivergent part mostly bc i get uncomfortable when I'm not doing something and I can't really stand not doing smth. Ive seen some posts of neurodivergent people (esp posts abt adhd/ppl with adhd talking abt it) and kinda find myself relating to stimulation issues to a degree? I hate not doing anything productive eg drawing, writing. Sometimes I can't even stand just watching tv or reading bc sometimes I don't feel involved enough. If I'm interested in a piece of media I'll binge it for a couple of days and then the next day I'll feel nothing at all for it. Like idk maybe I'm thinking too hard and I don't actually know what I'm talking abt but at this rate I'd rather be wrong while try to explore this/put it into words then keep everything to myself just because I'm afraid of getting backlash or whatever from the 3 real people and 20 pornbots that follow me. Chances are this post wont receive any attention like literally anything else I've ever posted except it not getting attention will be what I want haha.

Tldr I'm just tired of trying to please people and bottling stuff up just bc I want ppl to like me and bc I don't want to burden others. I want to open up and have actual social interactions where I'm not overthinking everything I do. And I'm posting this to prove to myself that I'm going to change and get over it.

#citrus speaks

[shadowofmoths]

for @blaseballwipamnesty: 1.4k of a Sutton Dreamy study, immediately post-ascension. i may come back to it someday--would’ve been eventual sutton dreamy/juice collins, with background nagomi mcdaniels/mrs silk, and nagomi & sutton friendship. warnings for description of a panic attack/breakdown, with some slight descriptions of depersonalization, and not the most healthy handling of intense emotions, and non-maincord-friendly swearing.

The problem was that Sutton didn’t know she had had a home until it was taken away from her. She didn’t know that home could be the gas station fried chicken the team would share before practice at unholy hours. She hadn’t known it could be sitting in the stands with Parra and talking about extradimensionality, or Kennedy calling her “kiddo,” or finding impossibly long strands of Combs’ hair in everything she owned even after they were gone. Her home had been splurging on overpriced aquarium tickets and caramel-and-Old-Bay ice cream, and falling asleep to the scuttling whispers of the MotherCrab every night. It hadn’t occurred to her that Baltimore had been her home, but it was. And then it was gone.

Ascension was like having a limb ripped away from her. No--Ascension was like being the limb that was ripped away. Being the part that gets left behind, unnecessary and useless. Unable to function on its own. An arm without a body, displaced. One second she is with her team, and they’ve won, and they had tried to be as prepared as possible for what would come next, but nothing could have prepared them for this. And then, loud and sudden and all-encompassing, they are somewhere else, somewhere so wrong that, even for Sutton, it’s nightmarish. They’re losing like they’ve never lost before--but isn’t it an honor, to have a god come after you personally? And it’s all over so suddenly that none of them have the chance to say goodbye. Between one blink and the next, her family is one. Another breath, and Sutton is swept away, too--not to follow them, but instead washing up on the soft, unfamiliar sands of Hawai’i. It is only the second time in her life that Sutton regrets teaching herself how to feel. She feels broken-open, realizing only belatedly that her face is wet with more than just ocean spray. She’s crying, violently so, and doesn’t understand at first that she’s furious. It’s the most emotion she’s ever felt at once, and it’s horrible--everything so intense that it comes back around to feeling distant and numb. She’s gotten herself out of the water, somehow, curled up on her side as she heaves with what must be inhumanly ugly sobs. Everything around her blurs, until she is aware of the sand in her fingernails and the salt drying in her eyelashes and her rage and nothing else. After maybe an eternity she hears a voice from somewhere, somewhere nearby, maybe. It’s a distinctive, rasping voice, a familiar one, but it still takes Sutton a moment to place it. 

“Sutton,” Nagomi is saying. “Breathe, come on, Dreamy. Damn it, can you hear me?” Nagomi’s mandibles click anxiously. Sutton chokes on her own breath.

“Gomi,” she gasps. A thud, like someone dropping to the ground next to her, and the weight and warmth of Nagomi’s uncarcinized hand rubbing circles on Sutton’s back. 

“Yeah, Dreamy. You gotta breathe with me, okay? You can freak out all you want, but let me at least get you inside, first.” She keeps talking, even when Sutton’s perception goes all fuzzy, and eventually the familiar creaking of her voice soothes her back into something approaching coherence. Nagomi helps her stand, hand still steady on her back, and for the first time, Sutton can take in her surroundings. They’re on a small beach, enclosed and private, with no one but herself and Nagomi in sight. There’s a house, maybe 50 yards away from the beach, with white siding and soft blue curtains in the windows. There’s a vegetable garden in the yard, and a path of uneven stone leading to the house. 

“Where are we?” Sutton manages to ask, voice hoarse. In response, Naagomi beams, her mouth stretching impossibly wide. They approach the back door, and Nagomi slides it open with enough familiarity that Sutton doesn’t think to question her. 

“Dreamy,” Nagomi says, as a dark haired, oddly familiar-looking woman turns to look at them, “I’d like you to meet my wife.”

Mrs. Silk, unsurprisingly, is a lovely woman, and, more surprisingly, Sutton absolutely does not want to talk to her. Sutton thinks that she might stumble through some pleasantries, but between everything that’s happened to her wife and her son, Sutton is pretty sure that Mrs. Silk won’t judge anyone for being inconsolable over blaseball. Nagomi presses a glass of water into Sutton’s hands and Sutton drinks it, although she remains only distantly aware of her body. She might drink more water, or someone might ask if she wants anything to eat, but time seems to stretch and compress oddly and the next thing Sutton knows, she’s curling up to sleep on the living room sofa. She might lie awake, staring at the ceiling, or she might fall asleep in moments, and either way she is glad when sleep takes her. 

It’s still dark when Sutton wakes, and for a few moments she doesn’t know where she is. What she does know is that she’s tired of feeling numbly miserable. Players get traded all the time, she tells herself. So what if her entire team is gone somewhere she can’t follow? She was bound to leave the Crabs someday, so she might as well get ahold of herself and learn to deal with it. So she heaves herself off of the couch and leaves Mrs. Silk’s house. The night sky sheds deep blue light over the sand and the water. It’s an entirely different sort of night than Sutton is used to, no humming yellow city lights or sirens or omnipresent eldritch whispering. It’s quiet, and Sutton hates it. She wants to scream and shatter the night like glass, but she doesn’t. Instead she walks, along the beach until she finds a road, and along the road until she finds a town, and through the town until she finds a bar. It’s still open, which surprises her, but after a moment of staring up at the neon sign, she goes in. The space is quiet, its walls made of dark wood, with soft, warm lighting throughout. To Sutton’s relief, she’s not the only one there--several patrons sit in booths or at the bar, where a single bartender is serving drinks. The bartender is wearing a blue patterned button down with the sleeves rolled up, her dark hair held up in a loose bun with a cocktail umbrella stuck into it. She has warm, dark skin and a warmer smile that she’s directing at the customer she’s talking to. When she catches sight of Sutton, the bartender smiles--she has dimples--and waves to her.

“Hi! We close in about an hour, but you’re welcome to stay until then.” 

“Oh,” Sutton says, “sorry, I--I don’t even know what time it is,” she admits.

“No worries!” says the bartender. “It’s--” she checks her watch, “--just after eleven. We close at midnight.” 

“Thanks,” Sutton says. She’s off-put by the woman’s demeanor, a sudden reminder that not everyone had their world end earlier today. But that’s not her fault, Sutton tells herself. She takes a seat at the bar. 

[Plot notes: Sutton wanders and eventually ends up at Juice’s bar--doesn’t know what to order, because she doesn’t drink, and the only thing she remembers other Crabs drinking is like, shitty beer is making it natty boh too cliche?? im never around baltimoreans drinking. Juice won’t give Sutton alcohol because it’s pretty clear that Sutton is fucked up, but they talk. Juice remembers Sutton, but Sutton had a kind of insular attitude to making friends and doesn’t really know Juice. This is a little bit of a meet-ugly, because this is the literal worst day that Sutton has had, ever, in her life. Juice is really sweet, though, and doesn’t hold a grudge because she saw Sutton’s worst day of her life televised, as did pretty much everybody. The rest of the plot would be about Sutton learning to Vibe™ with the help of Juice, Nagomi, and Mrs. Silk (who would probably need a first name at some point….). (Where is York at this point? Can he visit?? Actually that’s probably more angst than I’m prepared to deal with.) (ALSO re: Mrs. Silk’s house being right where Gomi and Sutton washed up, maybe her house is where new/traded players always show up, and she built her house there bc of how often Gomi gets traded, so she’d always be the first person to see her when she shows up??) Anyways, Sutton has to learn how to be a person on her own, and also how to chill the fuck out. If this follows her through the end of the siesta it’d probably involve her having some kind of culture shock going from hypercompetitive, structured crab life to the fridays Literally Just Hanging Out.]

#blaseball #blaseballwipamnesty #sutton dreamy #juice collins #nagomi mcdaniel #mrs silk #baltimore crabs #hawai'i fridays #jason writes

[thisisabouta]

This is About a... Time I Was Annoyed.

I’m so tired of talking. I have to talk way more than I want to at work and it drains the fuck out of me. It was ideal coming home to an empty house when I lived alone, most of the time... there were some nights I wish I had someone to talk to but I was glad to be able to choose when those times were. People aren’t very accessible to me tho. It appears more times than not, that I can’t reach anyone when I really need to so I stopped reaching. And also because I need to talk to someone who actually knows the ‘correct way’ to respond to me.

Friends claim that they know me so well but none know how to accomplish this. All of my important relationships have disintegrated or are in the process of doing so and I have absolutely no energy to do anything about it. The part of me that actually wants to do something about it isn’t functioning at the moment. I don’t know when or if i’ll care again. I feel like a lot of my friendships have been fake. Ok well no, I take that back but they were definitely, mostly superficial as fuck.

People didn’t really start hanging out with me until I started drinking. My “friends” that I have now don’t know the high school version of me and the pre high school version of me. They may have heard things but they didn’t meet that version of me. I think the only person I really knew right before it all started was Jamie. There’s a foundation there but the house has been completely burned down. Everyone else I treat as my family which means I only see them on holidays and/or special occasions. 10 years ago, the word and sense of my family meant to more than it does now. I don’t have anything but time tying me to these people.

We sit around on occasion and talk about everything we miss from years past and that shit is exhausting and an obvious sign that those years are the only ones that matter now. We created beautiful memories together but that’s all, these people who are my friends and who know me so well are just as bored as I am. They either want to try and fix my life cause they can’t fix theirs and talk down to me or just want some drama to talk about so they can say me having my shit together is a lie. I know there are people in my life who get a small pleasure out of seeing me trip and fall. I’ve been the center of everything for so long and I’ve always gone along while still doing my own thing. I was going the fuck thru it for over half my life and I made it a point to be there for everyone but myself. Why the fuck would I want to pay attention to my own problems when I had alcohol and boys who were finally starting to pay attention to me.

It took me over 10 years to attempt to choose myself and the people who haven’t already left me behind are pissed. Most of my friends are in relationships, have had long relationships, made best friends, have crazy stories to tell because of me. I can’t and won’t take credit for the way anyone’s life has turned out but I have been the center of alot of things that have taken place. Basically, as far as I see it now, my work is done. God knows tho, all of these people who have met their real friends and are done wasting their time caring about me will be the same ones at my funeral acting like they talked to me the day before. I can see the collage posts now with the club pictures, talking about how I was such a good friend (even tho, I don’t even know if my number is saved in your phone and you unfollowed me on social media months before) and how I was always there for them when they really needed it.

Now any kind of catching up is talking about how much we hate our jobs, the new guy who’s taking us on a date cause the last one didn’t work out - again, what other people are doing and why we have any right to have an opinion on it and the just all around banter of people who are really disappointed and miserable. Misery really does love company. If that’s what the premise of my current friendships is going to be, I’m not here for it. It’s bad enough that I have all these bad thoughts in my head but then to talk about them out loud, over and over and fucking over again. I’m annoyed just hearing myself. How many times can I talk about my fucking problems knowing that I’m not going to do anything to fix them and the person Im talking to is just going to try and give me advice when they’re simultaneously telling me that they don’t know how to fix their own shit.

I feel like a Tamagotchi. I loved having one of those stupid things. I wanted one so bad as a kid and was super excited when I got it. It wasn’t a huge part of my life, it was still just a damn keychain but it was really important to me. I took really good care of it the first few days, took it everywhere and showed it off to my friends. After awhile tho, it really did just become another keychain. I kept forgetting to feed it and it kept dying over and over again. I still liked it tho, it was fun to play with sometimes but I kept forgetting it was there. I don’t know what day I grew up and stopped using it but it happened and it doesn’t even matter. It was so fucking important to me at one time but the fascination wore off and there were better games out there. This is probably more how I feel guys treat me but still, a relationship is a relationship...

This is a hard time for me. I have a new best friend in my life now so I must sustain twice my normal amount of our kind of energy. There’s a definite reason why i’ve been prone to only get really close to extroverts. Not that there’s anything wrong with being an introvert. I love that deep, introspective part of myself but I can remember; in depth, all the outcomes from my introvert/introvert relationships. That’s a fucking dark place to be. Granted I love going to dark places but that’s when I have the will enough to carry myself and the other person back out. I think that part of me died too.

#bipolar #disorder #mental awareness #mental illness #unhealthy #awareness #friends #nonewfriends #depressed

[dangerouslyintoxicating]

11/11/21

Trying to get some clarity on the current situation whilst sitting on my couch with a gaming boyfriend. I should really be writing more like these days like I did in the past. It did help me get some clarity on what was going on in my head or maybe it just sort of gave me the idea that things were getting less burdensome whether it actually did work or not, it was actually somewhat cathartic for one, and two, I could actually spell better back then. These days, I just depend on the autocorrect function on my phone... which, honestly is shit sometimes. Cause when I wanna spell something, something else comes up. With this crappy memory of mine, I sometimes forget what I wanted to say altogether. 

To be honest, I told myself that this year, I would strive to be a better me. Not in the “Oh i wanna save the world and give myself to others.” Kind of way, but at least... not be an asshole to those around me, get my eating disorder in check and at least, make some changes to this crappy life right now. Part of the plan was actually to start journalling whatever nasty ass thoughts that come my way and chuck it into a diary. But... it didnt work out. Until today. Cause today, I never felt so upset about wanting to love someone but yet miserably failing out of frustration. Then I thought, maybe.. the problem is just me. Maybe I am a terrible person, who says terrible things, which eventually follows up with horrible actions and reactions towards that person who is actually doing nothing. maybe... the problem is just me. 

Mama says to leave it. Cause he’s just weird like that. I just wish... I can love him better before it is too late. I dont want there to be any regrets looking back. I want to at least create some happy memories, to have at least tried. Instead of looking back at everything and feeling regret, anger and annoyance with him, with myself and with everyone else. I believe that the situation can be changed, but first, I got to let these terrible hurtful feelings go. 

At this point, I was hoping that I had amounted to something. But... no not yet. With my ED in the way and me not wiling to socialise due to the financial burdens and image concerns of how others think of me and always trying to make it seem like I’m doing really well when in actual fact. Im honestly not doing shit and doing like shit more like. 

At this point, I need all the courage that I can gather, in order to restart. To not look left, right, front or back at the people around me, and where they are at and just to look at myself. Where I would like to go, who I would like to be for my parents, especially mama and what I can continuously do without feeling the burnout or feeling incompetent. What I need...probably, is the courage to love myself and to move forward. To stop hating myself and comparing myself to others and in turn being defensive towards people or disliking them before getting the chance to know them. It’s tough and I’m honestly tired at the thought of it. But I would like to know that I’ve at least tried. 

I want to think pretty thoughts. Pretty thoughts of this world, that is otherwise burning in my head. 

Shall stop here. My wrists hurt cause of the laptop table thingy. But at least, this was at least a bit cathartic and my heart doesnt hurt as much anymore. 

1/1

[roses-and-oceans]

So I'm kinda debating writing this out but I decided to anyway. On and off, I've been writing posts about how I'm feeling and then deleting them. Its become sorta cathartic but I just don't seem to do it that often anymore i keep things inside. I wish I can put things under cuts on mobile because gosh darn it I don't want you all to go through a wall of text and it not be a fic. I mean I know every one's going to ignore this and no one cares but hey, I'll give it a go before I fall asleep. Hopefully I feel better after writing this. EDIT:I feel miles better! Honestly I would have never gotten this off my chest if I did not write this. I feel... Undeserving. Undeserving of many things and people. It was an apparent issue, I realized, when I wanted to write fics. I thought I was selfish of me to indulge in something so pleasurable. Just reading fics made me happy but if I also wrote things, then I'd just muck it up and be hunted down like, "hOE DARE YOU. YOU ARE SO SELFISH.WHY" And its not that fic writing is a bad thing!! Its just I'm not allowed. Like everyone can have fun except me because I'm not worth it, I'm not allowed. Why? Goodness knows. I still feel like that sometimes. Like no one will read it, but then there'll be this witch hunt for me, asking for my severed head on a stick. And that's the case for most things. I try to make myself small, quiet. For the sake of not disturbing others, not getting in the way, not ruining things. So that way I don't have anyone hate me. And I guess that's why I'm the way I am. I don't want to be hated. I don't want to be disliked. I mean this modern age its not possible LOL but still I try my best. I make myself moldable and flexible for the sake of others. I try not to breathe around them as much so as to not disturb them. Also another reason why I am the way I am is because I was actually hated when I was younger. I know, "get over it" lmao, and in some cases I am. But being hated by so many people, kids and adults alike... And no one did anything to stop, to see me, to wonder why. Ehh. C'est la vie. I guess the "lessons" forced upon me had stayed. I was taught that I ruin everything, that I was useless, stupid, fat and ugly. And honestly back then I just shrugged and continued reading my books. But I guess I didn't block everything out haha! And so I've always thought I was insignificant. That I was merely here. I've never actually thought about my future, so Ive never gone to college, not really sure what to do career-wise. A lot of friends in high school were like, "yeah everyone had to do this thing for college we went to councilors and and now we're all set! :)" and I was like WAIT WHAT LOL WAS I ABSENT THAT DAY WAS I NOT PAYING ATTENTION WE HAVE THE SAME CLASSES BRUH But I guess I just thought I wasn't worth the extra effort so I really didn't pursue anything I didn't ask questions. Because I thought I wasn't worth it. Thinking about it, its really stupid. Like hello!!! I'm supposed to go out there and get what I want right?? But then I think why? And no answer comes because I don't see myself succeeding. I graduated high school, and right when I left, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I've never thought I'd live a long life. I just don't see it. Like what am I going to be doing??? Not much probs lol. I see myself as a background character, a stepping stone to another ledge. I don't see myself as particularly special. Kinda don't mind it. Like really I'm just here to enjoy food and music and video games until I can't anymore lol. I guess you can say I don't see myself. Also, another reason why I don't think of myself is because I feel I'll get too greedy. I don't want that I am so terrified. I do not want to be entitled and snobby. I'd rather go without so some one else can have things and it's just... Ahhhhhh. I don't want to be greedy. Its a really big fear of mine. I guess I don't talk to anyone about it is because its just so... Frequent. I already have one person who just is sick and tired of hearing it, bless his soul. He has a saint's patience and lord knows its been tested. But I see it getting shorter and shorter and I just revert to making myself seem better, like hi hello yes I am function ing quite well today. I don't think I'm worth the stress. And its not that im talking his ear off and stuff like I'm not like DROP EVERYTHING AND FOCUS ON ME I NEED U TO MAKE ME FEEL BETER. Because I don't think I am he says I don't talk enough. But its whenever I bring up the topic the convo gets shorter and shorter. He's lthe loveliest person he is amazing. He is such a good person!! Just I drive him mad sometimes lol. Im afraid of being manipulative. I don't want that either. I don't want to harm anyone like that but I'm afraid I am. I don't want people or things to cater to me. I think one of the thing that got to me more recently was my birthday. I know, lmao, bitch it was like two months ago get ooovr ittt. Its just. I'm grateful for the good times in between the bad, but it was the most miserable birthday of my life. Things were so chaotic, so heart wrenchingly sad, that I felt I wasn't going to be able to celebrate. Like I felt I was going to be erased. Friends were there, which was really good! Family... Not so much. I guess it comes with being the oldest. Haha I don't think I even had a cake or anything lmao. Honestly I don't care but I had loads of fun with my friends. But i guess its just the fact with everything going on, I was placed in the way way way back. Haha how selfish of me; things come up!!! And its okay!!! Just my birthdays have always been like that and if even the universe is like "nah is just a regular day" then it kinda just sticks to me that my bday isn't really worth it. I also feel like I'm doing everything wrong. Like even though I'm doing everything right, every single thing written down I'm following it to the T, but I'm still failing, still doing things wrong, still not getting any where while everyone is succeeding. And so I will be labeled as an idiot, stupid, useless and hated for it and banished, like I was so long ago. I feel like after reading this, people will actually hate me lol. Like people are like OMG U ARE SO STUPID WTF and just walk away. Like I'll be alone. And I guess?? If that were to happen?? Idk... I have a list of things to remember. Number one is "be kind too myself". HA. I wrote it so I won't feel like this haha, but oh well. Its not working so much anymore. I feel like I'm creating a sob story, like Boohoo bitch you think too much. Eh. Well its getting late and I should sleep. I'm so sorry if anyone has read this mess. Im not looking for pity or anything. Ijust wanted to get this out without disturbing anyone. Well I guess by posting I'll be disturbing... And I promise: I AM OKAY!!!!!!! SRSLY!!!!! if anything its just hormonal, I've been on my period for a few weeks now haha. But if any friends do stubble across this, I'm okay. Just sad and tired. I just need a nap and I'm good. Writnf this was really helpful and I was able to get what I wanted out and if I were to actually talk to someone,I'd probs stop myself and not talk about everything I just did. I wouldn't have gotten this weight lifted off me. If you stuck around haha thank you if not I hope you all have a lovely day. If I don't have a very good day, I hope yours is infinitely better!

#god please don't hate me #about me #hhhhh #I might delete later #idk maybe when I wake up #good night tumblr #not ffxv #I feel like I'm forgetting something but idk what #ahh I'm afraid to post this

[lostlegendaerie]

Six Fics of 2016

someone. someone tagged me in this. multiple someones tagged me in this while my PC was broken as shit so fuck. i dont know but i Wanted This, so. originally by @secretlystephaniebrown​ !

So I thought I’d pick 6 fics of mine written during this year, grab a favorite quote from each of them, give a short explanation of why it’s one of my favorites, and then tag 6 people to do the same! Let’s get some self love rolling as we head towards the end of this year!

and yeah i did write other fandoms this year but its like mostly RvB and Entirely in space, so.

6. Save and Restore - York & Delta, canon compliant

“That’s a-- dirty word, D.” A light, airy chuckle follows; one he remembers following an exchange with Carolina years ago. It sounds so much younger than the rest of York’s words, and he realizes he may not have anything more recent. “Better-- clean it off.”

“I… beg your pardon?”

“Nah, it’s free.”

i mean im Mostly so fond of this one because it was how I met @agentyorkdakota​ my moon and stars, but i also really enjoyed just getting to play with language a lot with this? like i’m pretty sure i’ve discussed this before but for a senior year project i worked a lot on a play called The Skriker where the title character kind of... used mixed metaphors and all sorts of jumbled language to communicate and it just. stuck with me. this language that was kind of cobbled together and makes sense but doesn't and yet does? so that was def a highlight of mine working on this fic. (also it placed me in the Angst War, a feather in my cap if there ever was one)

5. blow you like a popsicle stand - Tucker/Wash, canon compliant

He swallows his fear and creeping horror and lifts the lid. Buried under the crystalline ice of the remarkably still-functioning freezer is a collection of brightly colored little packages, all about the size of his hand.

“What.”

“I know!” Tucker replies, with exactly the kind of enthusiasm than ensures Wash he does not know, “I can’t believe it either. Ice cream! Here! On Chorus! Man, Caboose is gonna flip out when he sees this.”

Wash is tired, and adrenaline-tingly, and by this time he should just always expect to be betrayed and disappointed but here he is. He pulled a door out of a crumbling concrete wall for decades old ice cream sandwiches. Couldn’t save the lives of kids under his command, but sure. He can demolish a building in a fit of panic.

“What,” he repeats again, trying to shove all of his feelings into one ambiguous syllable. But Tucker just hip-checks him out of the way, flourishes his sword with a buzz of light, and carves a path through the ice to a red and blue package.

this one was done in a swap for @playerprophet​ (whom i also love and tag in this, there you go) and was just. okay. listen. l i s t e n. if i’m gonna write porn im gonna write specific porn. i’m gonna write mildly kinky porn with new shit y’all aint even knew you liked so someone can find me at a con and tell me to my face “oh yeah you wrote the iceplay fic” and i can be like “y e s” but also i can barely scrub the Feelings out of anything i write, so. SO. this was a pretty lighthearted excuse for Porn and it went over really, really well. so im Happy.

4. Golden Boy - York-centric, semi-canon compliant

Not that York can go back, now; not that there's anything left to go back to, with the entire project turning on itself in a disjointed, cumulative sort of cannibalism as every man, woman, or construct fights for themselves. And he’s not entirely blind to the fact that being wired to Delta on a neurological level makes the Director’s treatment of the AI feel infinitely more personal; makes it easier than it should have been to turn his guns on people he’d worked with for years. No. He’s not blind, not in that sense anyway.

But if he’s going forward, he wants to understand in full what he did in the name of science and progress.

this fic once shared a name with @littlefists​ ‘s epic because it was literally the first thing I wrote in the fandom and I Wasn’t Into Tuckington So I Didn’t Know, and i swear to GOD this is the last time i bring this up but i worked so fucking hard on it, it has Combat and Betrayal and Introspection and World Building and while i’ve gotta better grip on canon now I still really, really enjoyed this fic as an explanation for how York, of all people, could have gone so low in OOM

3. Overflow - Tucker/Wash, canon compliant

His thoughts about Tucker have often felt like a glass of water that’s just a little too full. He moves carefully so they don’t slosh around and make a mess of the place, barely keeping it all inside . And he’d thought that, once the newness of the whole ‘ sure we’ll risk lying to the faces of UNSC police to keep you out of prison even though you’ve done next to nothing nice for us your entire life ’ gratitude thing wore off (it didn’t, not entirely, it still pops up sometimes in the worst of moments and chokes him like the noose he should have gotten) the level would go down.

[...]

Tucker does something to him. Tucker finds ways to make him forget, at least for a little while, all the ways he’s fucked up. Even if it’s just finding more tolerable faults, like how the stick Washington has got shoved up his ass does wonders for keeping his back straight. Tucker talks loud enough to drown out the ghosts of everyone he underranked but outlived, listens enough to make his hard-won experience and advice mean something, and he is terrified for the day that everything overflows.

this was birthday fic for @strangestquiet that i actually took a day off from work to ensure i completed it in time but just. anyway. i’m pretty proud of it because it’s Big and it’s Coherent Mission Fic that managed somehow to tie into a little bit of preexisting lore. i’m also unfortunately very fond of all the little OC children bc i’ve constantly had tons of trouble with original characters and even tho no one else seemed to notice them i had fun and i love them all. but just in general i feel like i had a good balance of humor and feelings and also imagery? but as far as the latter goes it falls short of...

2. gethsemane - implied Shepard/Vakarian, Archangel-centric, game-compliant

On his last trip out of the Citadel, tying off loose ends, he bought a pack of playing cards from a human vendor. He had memories - they’d been fond once, but were souring like milk left in the sun - of losing miserably to Shepard and Williams at some gambling game. Leaving gifts on the graves of the departed wasn’t exactly the norm for turian culture, but neither was it strictly a human one either.

The flowers around the small crystal pillar were already wilting with neglect when he arrived. There might have been other tributes left there, but security had loosened until it fell away, slack like discarded clothes. Garrus left the cards there, under the shimmering list of names of casualties from the attack on the Citadel, and took the next transport ship as far away from Widow as possible.

okay so like. whenever possible i love to put good imagery in fic and like. understate emotions when i can and just in general do the literary version of the color saturated wide shot, you feel me? like the pullback with the characters in silhouette but you can still understand everything they’re feeling? anyway i feel like this fic really nailed a lot of my own personal goals for just Vivid fics. can’t wait to write more mass effect fic but it’s gonna be Hard to meet the standards i set for myself with this one.

1. Throw Away the Key - York/Carolina, Alternate Universe

Carolina fights to find the best angle for her umbrella as gusts of wind swat rain at them in little bursts, but by the time her car gives a satisfying click they’re both uncomfortably wet and she’s run out of things to say. Thankfully, he hasn’t.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” York reflects as he withdraws the metal blade, inch by careful inch. “This is getting a little absurd. Like, bad soulmate romcom Hallmark movie levels of coincidence.”

“Not my fault if you keep breaking the law.” She’s a little surprised by the movie analogy, but decides against teasing him for his choice in films.

“I am bending it, at best.”

listen i’m fucking neck deep in all the complexities of longfic hell and this sure isn’t the artsy stylistic stuff that i can be proud of (or regret) later on down the road but i’m trying. i’m trying to write something massive and happy and so far it’s working. i can’t say for sure if it’s actually Good because i get to see all my messy drafts and stops and starts that the rest of you are spared, but I wanted so badly to write A Good Longfic for the Y/C fandom and with that, at least, I feel like I’m doing well. if nothing else, literally nothing else at all, i am proud of myself for trying this and i hope that it can continue to give people joy long after it’s done and i’m gone.

i’m gonna go ahead and tag @therewithasmile @sinelanguage @lady-of-rohan @flecksofpoppy @owaire and of course @playerprophet but if you’re reading this and wanna do it go right ahead!

#saro's writing #fic meme

[ara-aletheia-astraea]

I don't usually put personal posts on here because I don't want it to be any type of diary or anything. But I'm starting to get really hopeless and im not ready to voice it to anyone yet. I dont want to write it down either because whatever journal I put it in, ill be reminded of it whenever I open that journal again. At least on here I can forget it existed and I know its highly unlikely people will see it.

I'm starting to feel very hopeless about everything and that really scares me. Because the last time I felt so hopeless was at the beginning of what was the worst summer of my life (before this one. This might top it in the end. We'll see). I know i should get back into therapy asap and I know it with my whole goddamn head and heart. And im not turning my nose up at it. I've always been a solid advocate for getting help from therapists or counselors as needed. And i know it'll ultimately be a huge help im sure. But it just feels like such a monumental task right now, and a process that I can't bring myself to start. Which I know is part of the depressive episode talking. And it also feels like therapy won't help because nothing feels like it will possibly help. Which I know is wrong and ALSO part of the depressive episode talking.

I didnt get to graduate - not really. I didnt get to the finish line because I didnt get to experience that final exhale. Instead it feels like the air just slowly got pushed out of me until I was desperate to bring in more and it hurt to not breathe in. It wasn't a sudden relaxation of the muscles but a drawn out increase in the tension.

I didnt get to find an apartment in albany and start working at one of the jobs I was looking at. I didnt get to actually finish learning from my field work but I had to jump through a thousand extra hoops to make it say I did on paper.

I didnt even watch any of the graduation videos or participate in any of the final virtual meetings for it. Because I always either couldn't make it due to scheduling (which I'm trying so hard not to be bitter about) or I just outright couldn't handle seeing or hearing it. But now I feel like I gave up the little bit of celebration that I could have gotten. And thats the thing that still makes me feel like crying more than anything else.

I came back to syracuse and immediately was thrown into helping my family move. We had to finish packing up the house - which was a herculean fucking effort - then we had to finish cleaning everything. Then we had several days of absolute hell and chaos where I barely got to sleep and couldn't even be in my own goddamn house for hours at a time. Then we had to put one of my dogs down. Then we had miss after miss of trying to find a house to move into. All this was happening while my whole family was having multiple emotional crises and arguments each and I somehow end up being the one everyone confides in. Everyone dumps on me how tired and close to a breakdown they are. And I still am there for them and I cry with them and I stay with them and i listen and validate. But I dont have the fucking capacity to hold anyone else up anymore right now.

I'm so fucking tired and drained and no matter how I try to take care of myself it doesn't make me feel like I'm okay. It doesn't even feel like im successfully pretending to be okay for even a few minutes. It just feels like im climbing a wall that keeps growing. So instead I can either try a different climbing method to move faster or I just stand there banging my head against the wall.

And i just feel so hopeless. I haven't had the capacity in me at all to look for an apartment or job (not that I could handle that process right now anyway) and it just starts feeling more and more like a distant dream that I was so fucking close to but that ill never actually reach. I was almost there. I was almost settled in a place in albany on my own and functioning by myself and living my life for me and no one else. And then all of this happened and im stuck back in syracuse in a room the size of a closet with all my stuff packed in a metal rectangle in the driveway. Im stuck back here feeling like a child who is still on my family's leash and always will be. Im living and planning my life for other people and never for myself. I feel so fucking hopeless and useless and incapable and unimportant.

So what the fuck am I supposed to do? When am I supposed to get the moment where people see that I graduated and acknowledge me for it? Where I get to wear a cap and gown and take pictures and have people hug me all at once and say they're proud of me? Not because they see im hurting and want to help; not out of pity. But because I fucking did that! I accomplished that and I fucking made it! I did something neither of my parents did!

Jesus christ I had fucking plans. I had plans and dreams and I was so fucking close. But now im just trying to exist day to day without feeling completely miserable. Im just trying to feel okay. I try spending time with people. I try being alone. I try doing something creative or productive. I try doing absolutely nothing of value. I try everything under the sun to impact how im feeling in any way but it doesnt help. Nothing changes it. I still just get left there at the end of the night feeling pointless and miserable and anxious and empty. I just don't know what to try anymore.

[itsashithead]

1

Everyone has bigger problems than me. Its official. Everyone has real problems. I shouldnt be like this. Its annoying. Everyone is basically a fucking adult now, and can handle themselves but im still here like a lonely child with no home to go to. Why. Just why. Why couldn't i be like everyone and get past it? Everyone did. Hell, even SHE did. So whats stopping me from moving on? Ive truly tried to move on but idk. Its frustrating. She's done with me being sad abt the past and i dont give her wrong for that. Ugh. I just cant win. Januaru this year, i basically was like WAIT EVERYONE HAD THEIR PROBLEMS TOO BUT I WAS SELFISH AND HURT THEM. AND DIDNT CARE BECAUSE O WAS TOO BUSY THINKING ABOUT MYSELF. And that hurt a lot. I guess... maybe i wanna spite myself? Hurt myself the way ive hurt everyone else. Would the scores be even then? Who's even counting? Maybe its easier to live in those times when she pretended to like me? But i think im over that. Truly. Ive come to terms with her never liking me. So whats this? Why am i getting dreams of everyone who makes me wanna rip my skin off. Why am i trying to go back in time and chsnge everything, in my daily life AND my dreams? Why. Just why. Why must i be stuck in a place that has no one else? HOW IS EVERYONE ON WITH THEIR LIVES? What am i supposed to do? What am i supposed to change? How do i live again? Im angry. At myself. For all of this. Its all too much but to everyone its nothing. Im going insane over tiny problems compared to others. Why am i like this? Everyone has bigger problems, i should stop being bratty like this. Its so easy to hate myself for what happened. Why did i have to ruin everything? Just for pills and drugs. Why. We wont have been like this today if i didnt fuck everything up like i always do. A part of me loves getting hurt. I deserve it. I cant feel without it. I cant feel real without it. I enjoy it. I encourage it. I pick fights with important people in my life so i can be miserable and hurt myself. Sigh. I want someone to kill me because i cant kill myself. Ugh. Im sick and tired of being saved. BECAUSE OF NEVER WORKS. She comes to my rescue today, just for me to fall down again next week. Why am i like this? Who do i have to become? What do i have to do to not hurt everyone i love? Hurt myself? The entire day, teachers, the dean, the kids in class, the kids who made fun of me, lunch break, getting into form 3, two weeks into the school year, being hated, ridiculed, lied to, manipulated, lied ON, suspended 3 times, expelled, constant fuckery from my dad, given the thought that i liked a teacher(which is fucking gross)... feeling like wherever i go, there's the staff watching my every move. TO THIS DAY, the anxiety i get when i go out thinking theyre out for me, to me IN MY ROOM, i cant function if my closet door is open, if my curtains arent fully covering my windows. I HAVE TWO LAYERS OF CURTAINS :( and im scared to look in mirrors in case the teachers or kids are behind me. I feel like they're watching me while i fucking SHOWER. I feel like theyre watching me through my phone camera, and i always cover it "so they cant see me." Why. Why. Why do i feel like theyre lurking into everything i have on my phone. Why do i feel like theyre stalking everything i watch on YT. Why do they insult me in my head and laugh at me so much? WHY. Im tired. Im tired. Just tired. I cant even fucking try to PRAY without them ridiculing me in my head. I cant say an arabic word without feeling like im being hated and glared at and judged. Everywhere i go, even in the bathroom, "theyre watching me." Ugh. Why. Not to mention the "if you dont do <blank> theyll <blank>" or "if you do <blank> theyre gonna <blank>." I dont feel safe to sleep anymore, i feel like someones watching me. And i have the same 'paranoia' about my parents too. It all sounds ridiculous but damn. I feel like crying in the shower everytime because i feel like someones watching me, and i hate everything about my body, the gender i was born as.

#valere

[constantodyssey]

untitled one through eight (-three)

nov. 4 2016 

day in day out walking from place to place no one ever stops to find out what the world could be like if things were different if things were better

we’re all numb we’re numb to the politics we’re numb to society numb to the international troubles the world is facing the constant threat of war taking everything for granted because we’re too ignorant and numb to stop and find out what the world would be like if we tried to make it  a better place.

- 

nov. 5 2016 

my brain is being torn into parts pieces and parts that no one can figure out how to repair swirling spinning ripping my mind flows into several directions i try desperately to grab hold of whats left tightly keep it together so maybe not all of it will all apart i feel my pieces and parts slipping between my fingers they escape with no mercy flying in every direction trying to find a way out of my head theres no escape for brains like mine my mind can try but i know it will find there is no better place to be than the home that will set you free.

- 

nov. 7 2016 

I walk into my 4th hour class knowing how this is all going to play out. I’m going to sit in the back of the room, next to the filing cabinets, the student computers and my English teachers desk. Then, the boy called Jaden will walk back to me asking why i sit there instead of with the class in the normal seats. I will ignore him. He will walk away,  eventually. My teacher will walk in, give the instructions for the days assignment, i will finish before most other people. Then I sit and wait for the bell. Normally, I finish then read a book, but today was different. Today I felt different. I didn’t want to read, but at the same time i wanted to. i also wanted to stand up and walk straight out of the classroom, but i didn’t. Today felt numb. I felt  numb. I don’t know why but i know i did. Maybe it was  the sleep deprivation or the build up of depression. I’ve had days like this before; where i could laugh easier than ever, then switch to sad in a spilt second. it’s an odd feeling, for sure. These are always my worst days.  I never know how i will end up feeling. “neeka, you need to read,” she paused, “or do something productive at least,” teach said impatiently. I tried to reply. I wanted to turn my head and say ‘i can’t’, but i didn’t. I just nodded and continue to sit. A few minutes later, I caught her glancing at me to see if i was reading, which i wasn’t (i was still sat there staring at the wall ahead of me, twirling an old gum wrapper between my fingers.) I decided it would probably be best to begin reading if i wanted to avoid her any further. I quickly push back my chair to retrieve the book from my bag. Making both minimal and the most noise i could. In doing this, i received glances from a few other students and a concerning look from teach. After twenty minutes of staring at the dead paper, the bell finally decided to ring. Every person in the class hurriedly gathered their things and rushed out the door to make it to their next class, but mostly to socialize in the hall. i took my time today, though. Making sure my book mark was placed perfectly in the crease of the book and placing it gently into the bag before slowly zipping the bag and flinging it over my shoulder with a thud. I turn to face the door, sigh, and begin shuffling towards it. Only as i was about two feet away from the door, teach called after me. I turned. “Are you okay? you seem a bit off.” I won’t look at her, i can’t. I’d rather not look at the eyes of an insincerely worried teacher. “Just tired, is all,” I replied convincingly. Im not sure of her reply or if she even had one because as soon as the words fell from my lips i turned and began walking again. I wish people would stop trying to act like they care. I know she wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t actually work hard in her class. 

-

dec. 26 2017 

What terrifies you the most?

The fact we wake up every morning with the threat of intercontinental nuclear war  

- 

dec. 26 2017 

its dark outside a few outside lights shine from the house further up on the hill the house is dimly lit you turn the slightly rusted circular handle of the full length window-door an open floor plan kitchen, living and dining room are present under and around the kitchen counter are familiar people. stoned you turn your head slightly to the left to peek into the living room to find people drinking and playing cards around a large coffee table there is one light on over the coffee table that is lighting the entire room a few steps forward from the door, through the kitchen/ dining room, you turn to your left and enter a hallway that leads to three bedrooms and one bathroom directly ahead you turn to the right, to the first room. people are intertwined on the bed. peaceful. that room reeks of weed you exit the room and enter the one right behind it, also on the right needles on the floor and in arms are needles people passed out with these needles you leave the bathroom is next it lies at the end of the hall one person lies in the bathtub covered in their own vomit passed out the third bedroom, the biggest, is on the left side of the hall as you enter you recognize all the people occupying this room as your friends they are gathered around a tv playing video games they might be sober but you can’t really tell you keep moving straight towards the french doors at one end of the room through these doors is an office windows line all the walls its the kind of room you don’t need lights in when the morning comes around all the people that hate you lie on a air mattress on one side of the office they’ve been drinking you can tell they glare and talk shit but you can’t hear it turning to the right you walk toward another door that leads to an add on of the house this room is the brightest so far all the lights are on but in a good way it looks like all the lights fit in with each other to make the room look perfect the people who occupy this room are the ones who are supposed to be out there they are the stoners and alcoholics and druggies but your can’t smell anything in this room there are no needles in sight not one damn bottle of anything they are all clean this is where you stay you know they know whats out there but they are still in here, having a better time than everyone out there laughing and enjoying being awake and sober this is where you stay not because you don’t want to be drunk or high but because you know what happens when you are drunk or high they know too thats why you are all in this room together clean

- 

jan. 4 2018 

my mind is never not racing. all kinds of thoughts flowing through it nonstop. it’s almost enough to drive a person mad. or maybe this is just normal and I’m too weak to handle this. its 2:19am. i have school tomorrow but i don’t really have school tomorrow. its crazy how much you can hate something but the minute its taken away from you, you miss it almost more than ever. why do our brains work like that. its like that with all things as well. no matter how miserable that thing is, you miss it at least a little when its gone. even depressed people miss their depression when they’re happy. its almost comical. why do feelings feel so awful. why do i feel feelings for people who don’t feel the same feelings. why do feelings fuck us over like that. why do we lie about things to other people when we know those things aren’t true. we know it as we say it. but we still continue to lie, then make a story out of it. why do people like to destroy their home. even if they are told the home they are given will most likely never be replaced, they still don’t take care of it like they should. why do people in higher up places love rules so much, but never follow their own. why do they think just because they are placed higher in society they have the right to control everyone else but not play fair. why is the world not fair. why do people hate the concept of equality so much. even people who are put down by the majority don’t fully support equality. If war is started by simple misunderstandings, why do humans have such a pattern of not listening to each other. why don’t we respect each others opinions. we all want to live longer, better lives, but we destroy that possibility by disrespecting other cultures and viewpoints. maybe if we listened more instead of just plugging our ears and pointing fingers maybe the world would be a better place. Every free country on the planet fought to be free. but why would we fight to be free just to turn around and fight to conquer.

- 

jan. 4 2018

drugs don’t give a shit what color your skin is. it’ll drag you through hell and back until you don’t have anymore functioning brain cells. these drugs are everywhere. worldwide. they don’t care if you’re blacker than the night sky or a pale rich asshole. you could be living in bum-fucked-egypt or on the highest floor of a skyscraper in Shanghai. cheap drugs, rich drugs, suburban drugs, hood drugs, its all the same shit with a different name. they don’t fucking stop till everyone looks the same on the inside. burnt up and fucking dead. we live in a society so fucking divided we argue about who produces the most or the best drugs when we should be coming together to find a better way to keep all economies stable enough to not have to rely on drug sale. everyone thinks its a fucking joke but people are dying every fucking day. Everyone left and right overdosing on the new biggest thing. don’t get me wrong, drugs are great. they make you feel great. but maybe if we made the world less shitty to live in people wouldn’t be turning to things like drugs to take them out of reality. 

[somedaypast-thesunset]

I tell him in plain language I haven't eaten and have no money for food. He offers to loan me money and that I can come over. But it's -2 and all my cold weather wear is garbage from the 5 min I spent just going to the store. He says he has to charge his phone. I'm like OK but u can also do it on your laptop. "yeah but then I'd have to find my wallet". I gave a huge exaggerated laugh because who the fuck responds to someone asking to eat like 5hat? He thinks my reply is weird. I tell him I assume he's joking so I'm laughing otherwise I'm just depressed. He replies, "do you need money now?"

SO GCDFHJFFDXDJKCFYBVXSSJKCF

DO I NEED TO EAT TODAY? DO I? GYESS NOT BECAYSE I WOYLDNT WANT TO BORHER YOU TO FIND YOUR FUCKING WALLET.

the only mature non combative response I had was no response because I'm not even dignifying such a stupid fucking question with a response. Fuck you man. Just fuck you. I'd get more respect sucking dick for 40$. Quicker too.

And I'm trying soooooooo hard and it's just nothing. I'm doing nothing but expending the absolute most amount of effort I currently have before becoming sooo exhausted and frustrated that I'm becoming impulsively violent - much like traits I had very young that I worked to control. Like my day consists of waking up and being brought home. I smoke weed, find a podcast or video or movie to listen to but barely pay attention and try to bring myself to do anything. Like changing my clothes from yesterday. Going out to get food (which if I do is my entire morning and I'm done after). Lately I want soooo badly to get back into my shit. I used to be productive. Like I lost alllllllllllllllllllllllll drive for anything. I cannot fathom going to a job. My whole disposition says I want to die every moment I'm awake. I watched this doc about this crazy lady who starved to death in an abandoned house on an occupied street like ppl walked by the house she had neighbors but she like actively chose to just starve and die. And everyone's so confused like oh the neighbors were there she could've gotten food but no. I get this lady. I am this lady right now. I am in an abandoned house that is my body and my neighbors can see I'm here but they don't care if anyone is home. They wouldn't feed me.

In some ways I was like oh no. This lady is me. But she was delusional. Like she made ppl up. I haven't ever. But I am becoming like my mother more and more but I guess I empathize more. This lady was so depressed like she really wanted to die all the time and she was miserable and couldn't keep friends and I get it now. I got it before but now I really get it because there's no choice anymore. At some point you like... You're standing on the edge of the abyss and then u let go and from that point on its just free falling out of control. You can't stop it once it's hit full momentum. And I'm screaming cuz I did the drugs. And I can do them again so I can placebo effectvmyself for 2 weeks and crash again. I am existing solely for the purpose of a few other ppl right now. Like I can't die right here because my roommate has to find it and he's the last person I want to find dead me. Like if a stranger could spot a body that is me, that'd be good. Or like a dog finds me first. I want to go in a forest. I want my body to refuel the earth and I want animals to tear me apart like when the Indians let vultures eat their dead. I'm dead you know. People have too much control. I'm used to no control and I embrace the lack of control one has in death despite society trying sooo hard. And I'm still there you know cuz I want to control when I die. I wan5 to choose and death is not about choice. And it's hard to die. Killing yourself takes like extreme effort. I cannot selfishly take my cats with me tho I want to. I want to die with my cat in my arms, the only thing that ever really loved me besides my dad. I just want to go far far out where it's no coming back. Like even if I last minute didn't want to I want to be so far out in the woods I can5 make it back in such condition so I just die because wanting to live is the moment of weakness. This is not a moment. I am not in a decade long moment. I am suffering and I hurt and the "system" is a fools game. Like it took 100 yrs to accept certain medications and procedures as fucked up because it takes society 100 yrs to figure anything out and like I guess my hope is that because we're evolving technology so fast maybe in 5 years they will know how to fix depression. They will look in my brain and s3e the suffering and fix it. And I'll flick a switch and my memories will be neutral in feeling, not ptsd.

It's not even ptsd anymore. No, it's not JUST ptsd anymore. It's the starting long term effects of poverty. It's like.. My own mental issues maturing with me as I'm getting older and it's not easier at all?

Like I tried to do my shop and realized its so half assed and like I can't be this age and present this level of effort. I can do better I just chose not to but I spend effort doing it half assed still. I took apart 80% of my jewelry and have yet to go back to it because why. And that's sad. Like I have to be careful now to maintain what I do have or I may not care enough to do it again. I have alllllllllllllllllllllllll the time in the world to do something. Anything. Any. Thing. And I've listened to 350 episodes of last podcast, know deeply a 38 yr old man I never met who plays video games online, watched anything deemed good on Netflix, am totally up to date on s3veral news websites and podcasts and I smoke like 400$ worth of weed a month.

I don't even want to know me.

But like.. I don't pretend I just don't talk. I talk to others, share commentary occasionally but I just don't talk about anything. I especially don't talk about how depressed I am because it just bothers ppl and creates both positive and negative opinions none of which are helpful to the illness.

So im very very secluded. And I used to use isolated but that's negative. That's saying I'm forced into it. I'm forcing it. I'm not. I actively choose it now so I am secluded and extremely private.

I'm still trying though? Like I don't even know why. Today I signed up for usertesting sites because I already do contract tests for consumer reviews so maybe I'll make some money but at the same time I feel like its another dead end. Just go work at McDonald's.

Art wise, there is so much I could do to revamp my shop. All new, well made jewelry. I need all new photos including ones of my art with close ups and stuff. I want to "graduate" my art skills a bit. Like really make nice well cut paper with borders for matting and start to sign my work and like all of this means higher quality so a higher price. I can do fucking better. And honestly I'm not doing anything else right now. My mind is completely disabled and to consider working is laughable now. I know I'm not going to so I can stop being anxious about it. Fuck em. I've been doing a depression project for charity cuz that's what I did earlier this year too but this one is more personal. I have 3/5 of what I wanted for my goal but at the same time what I made is so.. Average. It's not great at all. It's just iok and does the job and I tried my best but maybe I didn't? The fact 3/5 have all turned out with fairly major issues makes me feel less inclined to continue and the whole thing pointless cuz why give something to the homeless that sucks. So u can feel good?

I don't want therapy or medication. I deeply hate society and most of humanity. I used to be OK with it and I wanted to be apart of it but I was so shit on by so many people that I can't do it anymore. It's not worth it. 30 years of shit for like 30 y3ars of average? Cool.

Still trying tho. Still asked for money for food and I'll go hungry today but I'll havevmoney tomorrow I guess. That's life. Me and the 45 ppl on main St homeless. Somedays you eat Somedays you don't. He will probably realize at some point he made a mistake - hopefully. Because if I have to chase him for it, I'm probably going to hang out by myself tomorrow too.

I'm now worried I have no good winter clothes and my boots have holes in them. I'm already in super debt. I have to get a new jacket and boots before it snows. I could've gotten an extra 10 if I braved the cold for 25 min tonight but I'm just so tired I don't care enough. I can't talk to anyone about this. Then I'm just poor and a burden cuz I have no job and spend money on weed. And I did. I put myself far into debt just for weed. I'm now working on this plan that since I've quit smoking I must be up some money so I'll slowly build funds back up by not smoking and not spending crazy. Which even now sounds bullshit. But I'm trying the testing thing as well. If I get my shop up before Xmas rush. These are reasons to try but I'm only trying because d3pression put me in debt. If I wasn't this sad I wouldn't spend this money. I wouldntvlive like this.

Honestly until I get this money I don't even have funds for the bus to get my birth control. At the same time tho I was willing to sit all of this out and wait but I have like 7 days to be paid and I can't go 7 days without eating at all.

I spent myblast 3$ on cat food and honestly just this run down alone describes how insane I am. Like there's no way it's OK for me to be on my own to this degree. No sound psychologist would say yes 100% clearly functioning on their own in need of no assistance. If someone described this to me in my moments of sound mind I would be like this bitch is dead in atleast 5 years. Prob less. Meds aren't enough. Therapy is not enough. And I don't deserve to be in a psych ward because my capacity for reasoning and logic is fully there and it's unfair to have success in q team monitored to be released into the same conditions you know.

What am I doing when my father's gone? This because no one recognized that in a Co dependent relationship there are two people who are d3oendent not just one and instead of really assessing the situation people chose to think I was lazy and living off my father (even tho I was not) ignoring severe depression and suicidal t3ndencies. Thanks.

I am the abandoned house.

Today I was trying to get ready to leave when he said he still wanted to smoke from my bong and ohh where do I have to go that's so important. And it's not just him. It's anyone who knows myclife. They d3cided my time has less value because someone who's not them d3cided to pay me money in exchange for menial tasks. Since I don't have that my time is meaningless and they can not show up to qppts or show up late or leave late or make me wait X amount of time cuz I have all the time in the world. They work u know. But I no longer care. For the people who know me I'm no longer accepting this and just going about my lif3 without them. For those who don't, I'm no longer going to share anything about my life with anyone. I'm just as valuable as you. My time is equally of worth. Fuck you for ever thinking different.

Just remember - anyone else alive, not your problem.

[jess-oh]

Reflection

hey journal,

i really need to get better at writing these again, haha. especially bc ive been spiraling a lot lately. after i type this, im going to post a reflection that ive been meaning to finish last sunday. 

so, hey. im not doing so great. and i cant tell if it’s me overreacting or me not being in control of my own mind or something else entirely but im not in a mentally stable place. i thought i was doing better. i thought i had grown more confident and felt more in control of everything. i thought my family had gotten closer on a deeper level. but i was wrong. im not okay. im really not. and i can try and deny it all i want but im not doing so great. im usually that friend that people go to for advice, especially when concerning others but i cant even manage my own friends and family. a part of me knows that ive cried a lot this past year and honestly, i feel really ashamed of it. i have a bad habit of bottling everything up and then just letting the waterworks flow one after the other during the next session. but im here now and i want to harden myself up again so people dont see how weak i am again. and i know deep in my heart that thats actually not what i want. bc i dont want to be an apathetic robot again thats just all about do do do and nothing else. i feel like a machine whenever i shut people out and i get the job done but at what cost? if i could have it my way, i would be surrounded by a community that unconditionally loves me and i dont have to think or try to do or pretend to be someone or something else. i can just be me and be accepted in their arms. but thats not the case. i do want to open myself up and i do want it to be a place where everyone feels free to share. but honestly, im scared. im scared bc im afraid that people dont actually care about me. and they never did. whenever i do share, it’s just awkward, and heavy, and silent, and no one knows how to respond or wants to pray for me. And it sucks. Honestly, I’m really sad that Shar wont be returning to Columbia next year because she was with me during my hardest and most trying times. And yeah, we got busy. But i didn’t blame her at all. She had her own things to deal with and I respect that. It’s just gonna be a lot harder without her. I’m honestly so afraid to go back home. I am so scared out of my wits that I’m gonna go home and it’ll be like nothing ever changed.  It’ll be like high school all over again. Where I’m just so miserable and nothing I ever do will ever be enough for anyone. I have worked so hard and for so long to get to where I’m at now and there are still so many problems. What’s wrong with me. I don’t trust Jason, and PJ, and Angela, and Grace, and Christine, and Rachel, and everyone else enough to share all of this. All I know is that I’ve been burned and hurt so badly in the past and it’s scarred me for life. I’m so afraid that I won’t actually ever find someone to fall in love with. But I still have so much baggage that I need to solve before I can even begin looking or hope to find anyone. I just want to drown everything out in media so that I don’t and can’t actually think for myself anymore but I also know that I won’t get anything done or solved that way. This is something that I need to take the time to pray and meditate on. 

And honestly, it’s kind of lonely and exhausting at my internship right now. I’m the only graphic designer and everyone keeps expecting me to do so much and I’m really into it. If there was a graphic design team and we all had all these tasks to do, I don’t think I would mind. If it was at least one other person that I could talk and communicate with, that’d be nice. Preferably another intern but even the only graphic design employee would be great too. But it does feel pretty overwhelming to be expected to take on so many tasks and to do so many things for all these different clients when im only getting a stipend. and i know they tell me i shouldnt feel pressured to stay after 5 but i do so that i can get these things done. i was highkey kinda salty the other day when jon said that im not doing things like mockups for clients yet but will once july hits but i already am? sigh. idk. i think im just feeling kinda overwhelmed bc it’s so many different projects to work on with so many different clients at once. is this how it always is? i knew i would have to work with clients but not to this level. they told me that didnt want to just throw me in with the sharks from the beginning but it feels like they did. and yeah, im still swimming but im getting tired. i definitely think i should bring this up to them. but at the same time, i am afraid of bringing it up bc i dont want them to just revoke so much at once. like i can still be productive. i dont want just one project to do a day. like trust me to do more. but not this much. i guess if it was just projects coming from jeremy and jon or if i knew the process or where it was going, i would feel a little better. i just think it’s been a lot of big projects that ive been working on for the company? if it was just a bunch of client work, i dont think i would mind as much. but bc the speed of all these new projects is so fast and i already have to worry about designing numerous spreads/pages on top of that? it’s a lot to take in. but bc im pretty much done with the internal stuff, or as far as i am concerned, i do think it should calm down from here.

i think i thought approaching and confronting specific incidents in my life would solve my mental trauma but it’s not just that. it’s been years of yelling and verbal abuse that have shaped me to believe the things that i believe today. and i do really thank andrew for bringing up that i think the way that i do bc i was conditioned to think that way and i am afraid to reread what i originally messaged him about. but i think he is right and it’s gotten me to start really thinking about how much my family has impacted my life in more ways than one. i get overwhelmed easily. my senses cant handle a lot coming into it. that’s just not how my brain functions or works. i thought i was over my asperger’s but i dont think that i am yet. but i still remember my mom yelling in my face, “what’s wrong with you? how can anyone be that stupid?” i always thought it was just my dad that was always strict with me and my sister but it’s always been my mom too. shes the one that spanked me. shes the one that said the most verbal abuse against us. i think my dad just doesnt understand how we work and is actually the more caring and understanding parent. but he has strict rules that he abides by and is really logical so that “loving” family figure has always been absent. My mom has tried to be the peacemaker in the past but doesnt change the fact that shes been just as hard on us as my dad has been. 

#reflection

[grubhivemind]

-- primadonnaTartuffe [PT] began pestering invincibleDetective [ID] at 22:35 -- 

PT: hi hello anybody home?

ID: Not currently. But I'm listening. 

ID: I hear Dorian's home.

PT: yeup. 

PT: there was a heartfelt tearful reunion between him sirius sage and myself outside skaianet building today. dope shit.

ID: Does sound dope. 

ID: I'll have to remember to stop by.

PT: yeah thatd be cool! making yourself like physically available to people is pretty dope sometimes too. 

PT: hey speaking of. 

PT: what the fuck my guy?????????

ID: ...I didn't realize we were in a position to be making these particular demands.

PT: THATS NOT WHAT I MEAN!!!

ID: So what do you mean?

PT: i mean!! 

PT: why have you been avoiding me?

ID: I've been attending to my own affairs. 

ID: Same as you. 

ID: If that includes avoiding you, then I guess we really should reevaluate the double standards being put in place. 

ID: But I mean. 

ID: If you're going to let any asshole come in and wreck what you're trying to accomplish, why settle on me?

PT: wow okay. 

PT: urrgghh. 

PT: listen i know i fucked up but its not exactly something i can atone for if we arent gonna be straight with each other. 

PT: you were acting all dodgy even before that.

ID: And you weren't? 

ID: Let's not pretend either of us has a fucking clue when it comes to jumping to decisions. 

ID: Decisions maybe we weren't ready for. 

ID: But that's neither here nor there. 

ID: I can't hold myself responsible for your feelings or decisions. Only my own. 

ID: You know I'm crazy about you.

ID: I don't want to get pulled back into this cycle.

PT: well FUCK neither do i??? 

PT: i dont want you to hold yourself responsible for me. i never wanted that! 

PT: but you do!!!! thats why im like walking around eggshells around you. 

PT: you cant stand watching me fuck myself over because you cant handle how powerless it makes you feel. thats it isnt it???? get a clue!!!!! 

PT: i 👏 dont 👏 care 👏 about 👏 being 👏 rescued 👏!!! 

PT: IM SICK JACK. so are YOU. and NOBODY can fix us. NOTHING can fix us. 

PT: both our miserable lives are gonna be filled with us fucking up in varying degrees of severity until were lucky enough to finally bite the big one.

ID: That's almost comforting. As if I'm not vividly aware of how everything ends up in the end. 

ID: But if it's all doomed to shit from the beginning, what's the point in trying? 

ID: It sure as hell isn't me you're disappointing. I've had a hard lesson in learning what I'm about. 

ID: And yeah. I'm not about watching you fuck yourself over again. 

ID: All the while, fucking this... relationship over because neither of us are equipped to handle the reality. 

ID: It isn't about getting fixed. It's about managing and coping enough to live another day. 

ID: That's what you should be focusing on. And what I should be helping you with. 

ID: It sucks that I'm not. And it sucks that you wouldn't let me if I tried. 

ID: So again. What's the point?

PT: arrgghh what the fuck??? 

PT: jack im not trying to shut you out!!! that isnt what i mean. 

PT: youve BEEN helping me. ever since i got back youve been nothing but supportive. 

PT: christ i feel awful about relapsing. i know how it looks. 

PT: but youve made a difference. everyones made a difference. 

PT: i fucked up. thats on me. i want to own up to it instead of running away from it like i always used to. im tired of being that way. 

PT: and i definitely dont wanna run away from something good cuz im afraid of breaking it. 

PT: because when im without it i know exactly what im missing out on. and i know its worth holding onto. 

PT: ... jack. can i please just talk to you in person?

ID: Depends. 

ID: Are you sober?

PT: :/

PT: yes.

ID: I'll make it back to the apartment later on today.

PT: alright. ill be around.

JACK: -Some hours later, Jack makes his way back to the apartment. Coming from who knows where, that detail wasn't important. Anger was still burning like acid in his belly, which he thought was better than the exhaustion that was threatening to overcome him. It was so much better than being detached and absent from the conflict.- 

JACK: -Lumbers into the apartment, apprehension tense on his face and his shoulders.-

RYAN: -she's waiting on the couch, clicking through space netflix or whatever mindlessly while she's waiting for jack to show up, failing miserably to keep herself distracted when all the things she wants to say keep running through her frustrated mind. she's alone, since sage is catching up with her previously absentee twin, and when she hears jack come in she jumps a little in her seat.- 

RYAN: -looks over at him, squaring her shoulders.- ... hey.

JACK: I'm home. -states like that's not obvious. Closes the door behind him, channeling more of that apprehension as he continues to hover by the entrance hall.- Now what. 

JACK: Pleasantries?

RYAN: no. -crap... what DOES she say now? there's too much she wants to say, it's impossible to know where to begin.- 

RYAN: ... can i start by saying im sorry?

JACK: Sorry for... -tries to grasp for words for her.- 

JACK: Falling off the bandwagon? Or... 

JACK: -drags a hand down his face.- Being mutually fucking awful at this feelings thing?

RYAN: i mean... 

RYAN: both kinda? 

RYAN: -looks away with a sigh.- im sorry i always keep this shit to myself. 

RYAN: its like i know people are there for me and i know i can reach them if i need to but ive kinda been lacking the discretion to know when and how and... 

RYAN: i was hanging out with sage the other day and we talked about a lot of things. i dont wanna say i had an EPIPHANY like suddenly everything makes sense and i know how to be a better person whos better at communicating! 

RYAN: but i guess it did help me figure out what i need right now. 

RYAN: so im sorry for holding you at arms length. me being afraid is no excuse to run. if anything its the opposite. -shrugs. she doesn't think it means much just to say these things, but that's about all she can do right now.-

JACK: -It's true. None of this was actually succeeding in making him feel better. For as much as Ryan tried to make sense of the mess of her brain, Jack was having an equally fucking time wading through the muck in his own. He rubs at his neck and shoulder, uncomfortable and uncertain of how the hell he should be behaving.- So... 

JACK: What is it you need?

RYAN: i need to quit being so fucking selfish. -sighs- 

RYAN: because i AM. im stubborn and i hide and i complicate things because i think its better for everyone to try and distance myself and forget about all pain ive caused people. 

RYAN: i need to just... listen to people. really listen to what it means when they say theyre there for me. 

RYAN: it sucks and i feel like a burden but whatever. i have to keep truckin.

JACK: -He feels ill having these things laid out in front of him. Again, he told himself. The word felt scalding and brutal even as he thought it. How the shit he was supposed to make sense of her efforts versus his own (???), Jack had no idea. He exhales painfully, his expression tight.- 

JACK: Where does all this leave me? I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Or what I'm supposed to be doing. 

JACK: Not that I expect you to know but... fuck. 

JACK: -wrings his hands about. Exasperated. Unable to express or even TELL what he was feeling.- We're a fucking mess.

RYAN: -watches the way the confused emotions twist painfully in his expression and mannerisms and matches it with her own.- 

RYAN: ... i know. 

RYAN: but baby you-- youve been doing good... 

RYAN: when i came back home i barely recognized you. you seemed so much more content with yourself and just. -gestures widly.- life! 

RYAN: im not saying i thought you had it all together but shit you made so much progress. -sighs- it made me feel like... i wasnt completely hopeless. it inspired me i guess. especially when you told me... the worst was over. 

RYAN: -runs a hand through her hair- what im saying is i dont think you need to do anything different from what youve been doing. 

RYAN: i just want to be a part of that. without being afraid of fucking it all up for you. 

RYAN: ... i dunno if that makes sense.

JACK: -blind eyes focus and tense at spaces he can't see. Picturing what her face might look like just by her tone of voice.- I can't stand here and pretend like it doesn't make sense. It does, Ryan. 

JACK: But at what cost? We work our asses off to get to a place where we're at least semi-functional, just to... throw it all out of the fucking window as soon as these impossible standards our sick heads start putting into our minds. 

JACK: Jesus fuck! -whips at his forehead, more exasperated than before. His voice echoes off the walls of the apartment.- I turn you into a symbol. You stop being a person, more like someone I have to warp myself to accommodate and-- 

JACK: It's wrong! It's so fucking WRONG that I'm the one that fucks it up for us. Why do we keep letting it get like this?? Why do you keep excusing it?? -hand flops to his side then, like a dead weight as scornfully, he turns his head.- 

JACK: Why can't I just. 

JACK: Be there for you? -scuffs his boot at the ground. The picture of unhappiness.-

RYAN: -at some point she's gotten to her feet, only to wind up stuck in place like she isn't sure where her restlessness wants to take her. instead, she passes her hands through her hair a few times, trying to figure out the answers to all the questions tumbling out of him.- 

RYAN: ... but you have been there for me. 

RYAN: youve been helping me stay on track all this while. whenever i thought i felt myself slipping id go to you cuz i knew youd understand and-- christ. 

RYAN: you literally saved me from getting jumped and who the fuck knows what else mightve happened to me that night. 

RYAN: you said it already... you arent the only who whos been distancing themselves. im not excusing shit. nothing im not doing too. -focuses on him again, taking steps towards him, touching whatever furniture she slowly passes by.- 

RYAN: im scared of dragging you down. im too much work. im scared im poison. 

RYAN: do you see me that way?

JACK: -As her voice floats closer, he finds his weight sagging until his shoulder presses by the hallway wall. Allowing her to approach with his tone nothing more than a mutter.- God damn it... 

JACK: Can't talk to you when you're like this... -says... and despite the words, Jack is wistful.-

RYAN: -huffs a little when she stops, keeping a short distance between them. her hands fiddle with her hair again nervously, but she still watches him carefully.- like what?

JACK: Vulnerable and approachable. And shit. -mumbles around a lopsided crack of a smile. At nothing in particular but if only Jack could see the cute uncertain look on her face. He'd sweep her up right then and there. Instead, he sighs.-

RYAN: -expression softens at the sight of his smile, and it tugs at her heart strings something painful.- ... shut up. im always tough. ill fight you right now. -sad as she is, she has to laugh a little. but when it quickly subsides, she sobers up again.- 

RYAN: jack... -exhales- 

RYAN: you know im not perfect.

RYAN: ive come and gone from your life so many times. everyones lives. i kept things from you. i did it back then and i started doing it again. 

RYAN: of course youre scared or upset. you just wanna help me. 

RYAN: but youre hurt too. youre mad. youre allowed to be. i want you to be. 

RYAN: dont idealize me. and i wont do that to you. 

RYAN: i just... think we can take the ugliness with the good too. i think its worth it.

JACK: -the weariness starts to tug at his expression again... But ultimately, he nods.- Makes sense logically. 

JACK: But ironically, I can't trust myself to know that is how I'm supposed to see things. Not always.

JACK: I'm blind, if you would. To those things. 

JACK: Wraps up pretty-like in the context, if you ask me.

RYAN: -scoffs a little, but she nods.- ... i get that. in a way. 

RYAN: like people tell me all the time i shouldnt feel bad. that im trying and thats all that matters and i should be proud of myself for the progress ive made. 

RYAN: -shrugs- but im not. not really. you know? 

RYAN: i believe what people tell me its just... not as easy to tell myself and believe that.

RYAN: i bury it i guess. so that i dont have to figure out how i really feel about it.

JACK: -closes his eyes and nods sagely. His answer delivered in an equally sage-like way.- It's honest-to-god funnel fry style horseshit.

RYAN: -dammit, she's smiling again. rude ass...- pretty much. 

RYAN: its gonna take a lil more than powdered sugar to make this mess prettier. 

RYAN: ... i never meant to rush into things again. 

RYAN: but i blame our fuckin ridiculous chemistry for that tbh. 

RYAN: i just... wanna be a part of your life. in whatever way i fit into it that works.

JACK: Mmmm. -scratches idly at his chin and neck.- 

JACK: I was personally going to blame the mad crazy ape banana monkey sex dreams you were having. 

JACK: There's been worse reasons to rush into shit, I'm sure.

RYAN: shut up?????? obviously i was avoiding that embarrassingly telling topic you insensitive bitch. -SHOVES HIM, but gently.- 

RYAN: god we are pathetic.

JACK: Ask anyone. Couldn't be a straight shooter if I tried. -reaches for the hands that shove him. Squeezing at them just as gently.- 

JACK: Insensitive bitch is my maiden name.

RYAN: is your middle name stupid ho? -looks at the hands holding hers, heart fluttering suddenly. dammit. she squeezes back till her fingers interlace with his.-

JACK: Ass. It's stupid "ass" ho. -slender fingers fit so thin and perfect beneath his own. He can tell by the simple touch.-

RYAN: ohhhh damn. i was so close. -shuffles her feet a little before she closes some of the distance still between them, resting her head against his shoulder wearily.- 

RYAN: what happens now?

JACK: -grasping at straws, really. He was about to ask her the same question himself. What Jack does do, is bring his arms around her shoulders. Holding her.- Get our respective shits together, I'm hoping. 

JACK: But honestly... 

JACK: Who fucking knows.

RYAN: yeah. -exhales again, trying not to overthink it all, but also not to flee from the uncertainty. it simply is. and in some way, eventually, it'll be alright. she squeezes her arms around him too, savoring what she can of the moment.- 

RYAN: i still think you were onto something back then. 

RYAN: about the worst being over with.

JACK: Maybe... -rests his cheek against her hair.- 

JACK: I wouldn't trust a word that past asshole of me might have said. 

JACK: He's been known to bullshit.

RYAN: -peeks up at him.- goddammit jack stupid ass ho insensitive bitch-crocker...

JACK: -Her peeks give him the opportunity to nuzzle, burying his nose in the short locks of her hair.- Hm... 

JACK: You smell pretty.

RYAN: smell ALL you want. -giggling again, she can't help to take advantage of the proximity -and brush her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss.-

JACK: Some of the few things I'm reduced to, in my condition. -the smooch on his cheek has him tilting his head that way, reflexively going for a peck to her lips. Unfortunately, the whole execution ends up clumsy and he kisses at her chin instead. Wasted... and realizing what he's doing.- 

JACK: ...Sorry. -diddles between staying and pulling away, the arms turning slack around her shoulders.-

RYAN: -clumsy, but so sweet. she wants to go even less, perhaps against her better judgement. and she doesn't seem to budge much either.- dont be sorry. 

RYAN: but also same.

JACK: -Well someone has to show self control, he tells himself. Or try to. Arms peel from her shoulders until he can rest his hands there. It's then that he leans in again... and kisses at the top of her head.-

RYAN: -her heart sinks when they unfold from each other, but the bittersweet kiss to her forehead serves as another reminder that things will be okay. while he rests his hands on her shoulders, hers find his cheeks, framing him in such a way that he has to know she's looking him right in his smoky eyes.- 

RYAN: ... i love you. -she just needs to remind him.-

JACK: -with delicate palms taking his face, he can almost picture the pretty maroon of her eyes. Maybe his face ends up saying so... but Jack just can't bring himself to figure out what the words meant. If only he could give her the right reply.- That is really.... 

JACK: Enough. 

JACK: It's enough... for us. For now. -says, but not without hesitance. Like he's jumping on a gamble again.-

RYAN: -brushes her thumbs over his skin gently in one last attempt to reassure.- yeah. 

RYAN: it is. -says quietly, but with enough certainty for the both of them. again, for now. she finally draws her hands away then, stepping out from his personal space.- 

RYAN: im gonna... head home now.

JACK: -feels pretty chilly with her hands gone.- ...You sure?

Jake English's #1 Fan-Last Friday at 3:44 AM

RYAN: ... no.

RYAN: i mean i dont want to. -full body shrugging.- 

RYAN: do you... want me to stay?

JACK: Yeah? I mean... 

JACK: Hm. -looks up and around now- 

JACK: I actually don't know what time it is. 

JACK: Or if it's late.

RYAN: -snorts.- its a lil late yeah. 

RYAN: alright then. ill just crash here.

JACK: Our couch might as well have an imprint with your ass on it. Now that you mention it. -brushes by her to lumber deeper into the living room. Hand passing by the furniture as he does so.- Actually I mentioned that. 

JACK: Don't take credit for it.

RYAN: jack mentioning my ass... what a surprise. -watches him before following.- 

RYAN: i will take credit for the perfection of this imprint though. -plops onto the couch and wiggles like she's nestling into the imaginary indent (or is it.)-

JACK: Maybe I should take the couch for a change. -he can imagine what shes doing and is enjoying the imagery.- You can pirate my room.

RYAN: oh? then move bitch im tired of crashing on couches. -unwiggles back onto her feet.- 

RYAN: enjoy the lingering shape of my booty.

JACK: I'll try to not let it lead to anything risque. -fuck you, he's still going into his room. He needs a shower after all.-

RYAN: what you do on your couch is your business. -scampers into the room after him, immediately flopping into the bed so she can get cozy. she's a burrito. it's really a shame he can't see.- :relaxed:

JACK: Touche. -Truely the tragedy of the evening that he can't see. Jack busies himself by fishing for pajamas.- Same goes for what you do on my bed. My business. 

JACK: -And with that he leaves.- Go the fuck to sleep.

RYAN: yeah yeah... goodnight. -hate to see him go, love to watch him leave. :eyes: she rolls deeper into blankets onto her side, letting herself relax enough that she actually gets some restful sleep. it's easy when the sheets smell like him.-

#invincibleDetective #primadonnaTartuffe #in which arguments