#it’s just some family drama that’s adding fuel to the fire of stuff happening | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Family Dinner

Kozik x F!Reader (ft. Dad!Tig Trager)

Request by Anon: Can I request a sort of funny Kozik x female reader (who is Tig's badass daughter), where Tig has no idea that they're a thing until Gemma holds a dinner, and someone goes to offer reader a food they can't have due to a dairy intolerance, and Kozik informs them that she can't have it, and Tig pretty much interrogates him and is like, "how do you know that"? Has a big ol' moment of feeling betrayed and being mad as hell, but ultimately comes around to the idea.

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was a fun one! I did switch up the reveal a little bit but not too much. I haven’t written a heck of a lot for Tig as a character and having him play the protective dad role in this was really enjoyable to write. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @mayans-sauce @chibsytelford @mijop @adela-topaz-caelon @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be added to my taglist let me know! xo)

You were shimmying back into your jeans, trying to pretend that you didn’t notice the way that his eyes were glued to you. You looked over as you fastened the button on them, “You going to Gemma’s later?”

He looked surprised at the question, “The dinner thing?” when you nodded in response, he sat upright, running his hand through his hair, “Am I…am I even invited?”

You laughed, nodding, “It’s a club thing. Of course you’re invited.”

“Yea but no one ever—”

“Does Gemma seem like the kind of woman who is gonna make a damn phone tree and call everyone she wants there?” you chuckled and shook your head, “Just come. It’s always a good time. Good food, too.”

You could see it on his face that he was trying to weigh out the pros and cons of it. Since he transferred into Samcro, things had gone smoothly for him for the most part. Pretty much everyone in the club was glad to have him back around again. However, the one person that wasn’t thrilled about his return, was the person that you knew he was worrying the most about.

“It’s not like you two are going to be alone in a room together,” you told him as you pulled your shirt down over your head, “We’re all gonna be there.”

“You think he won’t jump the table and try to beat the shit out of me in front of everyone?”

You laughed, knowing that that is exactly the kind of thing your father would do, “Just don’t say anything to piss him off.”

“Want me to be silent for the whole dinner, then?”

You smiled, shaking your head, “Give him a little credit, Koz. He’s better than he was when you first turned back up.”

“Pretty low fuckin’ bar.”

You walked back over to his bed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “Progress is progress,” you stroked your thumb along his cheek, “I’ll see you tonight?”

He sighed, giving in only because it was you, “Yea,” he rested his hand over yours, “I’ll be there.”

You smiled, pressing your forehead against his, “Thank you.”

You leaned in to give him one last quick peck on the lips before leaving, but he grabbed you and pulled you close, not letting you pull away. You laughed as you leaned into the kiss, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

When he finally let you go, he was smiling up at you, “Since I won’t be able to do that later.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked towards his bedroom door, “You could, but it’d be the last time you ever did.”

You left Kozik’s place, making your way back to the home that you were currently sharing with your father. You’d been looking for a place of your own, but nothing seemed to be quite the right fit. At this point, you figured you would probably just end up moving in with Kozik before too much longer. There were a few conversations that needed to happen before that, though, and you weren’t sure if you were quite ready to have them yet.

“Dad, you home?” you’d seen his bike in the driveway but the house was eerily quiet when you walked in.

“Yea,” he walked out of the bathroom, half of his face still splattered with shaving cream, “Everything okay?”

You laughed as you took in the way he looked, giving him a nod, “Yea, all good. Was just quiet in here. But now I see that you were very…focused.”

“It’s like sculpting The David, alright? Takes a lot of concentration.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Right. Something like that. Anyway, we still going to Gemma’s thing later?”

“Yea. I’m not getting in trouble for missing it.”

You laughed, “Figures.”

Surprisingly, Tig let you drive the both of you to Gemma’s place. Usually when you offered to drive it was met with a myriad of comments about how your driving would get the both of you killed. For some reason, though, he was feeling extra agreeable. You didn’t want to ruin it so you swiped the keys immediately and went out to the car.

When you rolled into the driveway, there were already a decent number of bikes parked out front. Your heart sped up a little bit when you spotted Kozik’s in the midst of them. You weren’t the only one who noticed, though. You heard Tig muttering something under his breath about how you can’t believe that someone invited him.

“He’s part of the club too, you know, Dad,” you said, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.

“Doesn’t mean that I gotta like him,” he responded as he stepped out of the car.

You sighed, getting out and shutting the door behind you, “Make everyone’s lives a whole lot easier if you did.”

He looked at you, eyes narrowed slightly, “Since when do you care?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off, “The less drama at family dinners, the better.”

It must’ve been a good enough excuse, because he let the topic drop. The two of you walked inside, welcomed by the sounds of a few different conversations happening throughout the house, and the smell of whatever Gemma was cooking wafting over from the kitchen. It really did feel like coming home.

You made your way around, saying hello and giving everyone a hug in greeting. You tried not to let Kozik’s embrace linger, but you had to admit that it was hard to pull away. It was getting harder and harder to keep things on the down-low with you two. You were needy and Kozik wasn’t someone that you would ever describe as particularly discreet.

“You need help with anything, Gemma?” you were scanning over everything that she had going on top of the stove and in the oven.

She took a deep breath, hands on her hips as she looked around the kitchen, “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Think we’ve got it all under control in here,” she nodded towards the cupboards, “Maybe get some plates out for me?”

You nodded, “Sure thing.”

While you were bringing the plates to the table, you could hear the murmur of conversations out in the living room. There was laughter and the clattering of beer bottles as the guys got into whatever shenanigans they had time for before the food was done. It’d been a while since everyone got together at Gemma’s, and you had to admit that it was needed.

You looked back into the kitchen and saw Kozik staring at you. You smiled, shaking your head slightly at him as you tried not to draw too much attention to it. The last thing you wanted to do was air out all of your business in the middle of Gemma’s house.

He was leaning back against the counter, watching as you gathered up silverware for the table as well. He opened his mouth to make a flirty remark, but immediately backpedaled when Tig walked into the room. He tore his eyes off of you, trying to look anywhere else.

When you came back from the table the second time, you saw that Gemma had stepped out of the kitchen. With a devious smile on your face, you grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and opened one of the pots on the stove. Gemma ran a tight ship, and that meant no sneaking any food before dinner. But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

You assumed no one was watching you, Tig had his head in the fridge looking for a fresh beer bottle. You scooped a spoonful of whatever was filling the kitchen with a mouth-watering aroma. You never thought to ask Gemma what anything was—it was always good.

You blew on it, and just as you were about to take a bite Kozik spoke up, resting his hand on your arm to signal you to stop, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

You chuckled, “If you don’t snitch, Gemma won’t even know.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s not that. Although…that’s another really good reason to not sneak it.”

“Why can’t I have it? Saving more for yourself?” you smiled.

His grin was contagious, “That’s a bonus, but no,” he gently took the spoon from your hands, “It’s got diary in it. It’ll make you sick.”

You groaned, hating that you were deprived of good things, “Fuck. Fine. Thanks for saving my stomach I guess.”

He couldn’t help but to laugh, “You’re welcome I guess.”

The two of you were laughing but you both stopped short when you saw the way that Tig was glaring at you, beer bottle gripped tight in his hand. His glance shifted from you over to Kozik, eyes boring into the man next to you.

“How’d you know that?”

He tried to be nonchalant about it, not wanting to pour fuel on the fire that was already set between the two of them, “Know what?”

Tig nodded towards the pot on the stove, “That that shit makes her sick.”

He’d never been good at coming up with lies on the spot, “She just, uh, I dunno. Must’ve mentioned it at some point.”

It wasn’t a convincing statement. And Tig had noticed how close the two of you stood, the way that you looked at each other. He wasn’t that oblivious. He wasn’t sure who he was more frustrated with in the moment. It was easier to be mad at Kozik, because he was always mad at him. But he couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t tell him something like this. Despite his own personal feelings, he was still your father and wanted to know what was going on with you.

Tig stepped forward, getting dangerously close to Kozik’s face, “You sleepin’ with my daughter?”

You huffed, trying to insert yourself between the two of them, “Dad, come on. We’re not doing this here.”

His eyes diverted back to you, “You didn’t think you should mention this to me at some point? How long has this shit been going on?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep things as level as possible, “I wanted to mention it, but for some reason I thought that it might not go over well.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, fingertips rapping against the neck of his beer bottle. He knew that you had a point—he didn’t exactly make himself the easiest person to talk to when it came to you dating in general, let alone dating Kozik. But still.

“Maybe that’s true,” he finally conceded.

You laughed, shaking your head. Your stubbornness was a genetic trait, “Yea. Maybe.”

His eyes searched your face for any hint of hesitation or discomfort, “He good to you?”

You nodded, not even needing a moment to think about the answer, “Of course.”

Tig gave you a slight nod before gently moving you to the side, once more getting too close for comfort to Kozik’s face, “You hurt her, it’ll be the last thing you ever fucking do. Got it?”

He nodded, wanting to force words out but not quite sure what to say, “Got it.”

“Good,” he stepped away, walking back towards the living room where the rest of the club was sitting.

You wanted to stay and enjoy the relief of not having to hide anymore, but you couldn’t. You pressed a quick kiss to Kozik’s lips before going to catch up with your dad, pulling him aside, “Hey. Thank you for, you know, not murdering him in the middle of Gemma’s kitchen.”

“The night isn’t over. There’s still time for that.”

You laughed, “Stop. He’s a good guy, Dad. I know you don’t wanna see it but—”

He cut you off, “You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. But if he fucks up I swear to god—”

“You’ll be the first to know. Promise,” you held your pinky out.

He locked his finger with yours, a smile on his face, “Good.”

You smiled, “I love you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, “I love you too.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik x reader #herman kozik x reader #herman kozik x you #kozik x you #soa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #tig trager

192 notes · View notes

mystic-kitten-writer · 4 years

Note

this might seem random but what are your thoughts on the netflix live action atla remake? it seems like you’ve been a fan for a long time so i’m curious

Anonymous said:

Did you hear? Creators left neflix over reative difference. What do you think?

Anonymous said:

creators quit the ATLA live-action Netflix show, whatchu think?

Anonymous said:

Bryke left the production for atla live action...its going to be shit.

I got tons of messages last night about Avatar the Last Airbender Live-Action, in production by Netflix (even more than what I copied and pasted here). I just figured I’ll answer this before getting back into writing as I’m taking a break anyway.

In short, I was always consciously optimistic.

We got burned hard by the movie we shall never name, but knowing that the creators were on the production team for Netflix had given me a glimmer of hope.

But now that the original creators are gone?

I’m high-key scared and extremely nervous.

It’s important to understand that the creators of Avatar aren’t perfect people. They make mistakes, may have some out-there ideas. Still, ultimately, via a group effort with the original Avatar production team, they were able to create an amazing and heart-touching story. A story that still has a strong fanbase despite the show being more than 10 years old.

And now, after working with Netflix for two years, they have called it quits.

I can’t imagine, as someone who has created Limerence, working on something for that long and quitting.

Them leaving due to creative differences isn’t a matter of some small changes.

I read their posts explaining the situation and those messages aren’t your typical corporate talk of ‘we’re no longer working together but we love each other.’

They burned bridges, which means these changes are quite big and were a breaking point.

As much as we all love the original ATLA series, the redemption arc, the lore behind bending, and so much more - there were flaws.

I’m pretty sure that the creators (I believe they mentioned in an insta post?) said that they’ll be given more time in each episode to explore a few themes or scenes that they didn’t in the animation. Therefore, we can assume that rather than changing the plot, they were keeping accurate to the story, but fixing those loose ends and making specific plot points more apparent. Taking the show from amazing to perfect.

But now with Netflix and these ‘big changes’ - I’m 99% sure what these changes are.

As much as I hate to say it, I’m pretty sure Netflix is going to take ‘a family-friendly show filled with adventure and growth’ to a ‘teenage love story filled with drama and a side order of adventure.’

Netflix has produced some fantastic shows, but they also produced some smelly shit like the Death Note Live Action.

White-washing is most likely going to be a thing.

Ageing up the character to ‘sex-up’ the show (Riverdale x ATLA cross over - is that you I see in the distance?)

A love triangle between Zuko, Katara, and Aang (because people love pointless love triangles)

And the cherry on top is Mai is going to be the ‘villainized’ crazy ex-girlfriend (people already shit on her character, might as well add fuel to the fire).

They’re going to make characters like Sokka nothing more but comic relief.

Zuko into some angsty ‘bad boy.’

Aang is either going to be infantized OR - they’re going to westernize his character so he can fit the westernized perspective of what is conventionally ‘attractive’ (in other words, a Zuko 2.0).

I’m listing all these things on the top of my head, and I’m doing this because I already know how Netflix works. This is the shit they pull, and it’s sad.

I’ll be honest, when the show comes out, I’m going to wait for reviews before I watch it. But I swear, if this show ends up becoming a love triangle and the bending and stuff is a side dish - I’ll sue.

I pray they keep the show family-friendly, fix the loose-ends and add a few scenes (like Aang apologizing for the kiss he stole from Katara. Sure they like each other, but Katara was rightfully upset, and Aang was clearly regretful about it afterwards, but adding a scene of him apologizing and Katara accepting it versus us speculating would be amazing and make such a statement).

And while all the things I listed above could totally still happen even with the original creators on board, I highly doubt it. With the great flop of the live-action movie and how pained they were with that, making sure this was amazing was personal.

We can only hope Netflix doesn’t mess it up because judging by the reactions of the fandom, people aren’t impressed.

#atla #avatar #Avatar The Last Airbender #ask me anything #anon answered #ATLA live action #avatar legend of aang

62 notes · View notes

throughthewwods · 3 years

Text

100 Days of Productivity 🏖 . Day 19-21

💙 I let my mind relax

💚 I let my body relax

💜 We did mom-daughter bonding stuff

🐾 lots of GSD training

Working more on him walking alongside me instead of in front of me, which he is stubborn AF about.. so much so that he has learned the sound of my feet when I’m about to correct him, but doesn’t care enough to stop 😆

did loose leash training and off leash training.. loose leash I have to remind him to start pulling a lot. Irritating. He does great off leash, which is delightfully surprising.

The socialization is working. He is rarely skittish of people and other dogs now. He’s also gotten better about not disjointing my shoulder when he wants to greet another dog or child.

His self restraint has improved greatly, which is to say that before it was almost nonexistent. Now when I ask him to sit, stay etc. he listens much better for longer.

He’s much less barky

💚 Did a lot of walking

💙 skin care is finally paying off.

A lot of the cystic acne has cleared up and I’m feeling comfortable going places without make up again, which is really nice for my self esteem..

🧡 had a couple more sessions with people on the helpline,

which finally went a little deeper. Unfortunately, both of those people only have a couple sessions left before their part in the study is over. I explain to my research Director that in future studies if we’re only going to offer hour long sessions, which is reasonable, then we should probably offer more weeks because it’s harder to go deep over text when an hour flies by so quickly. Since this has to be entirely non-directive, it’ll usually be chitchat for the first 45 minutes before something of content is shared for me to build off of, but by then I don’t want to open a sensitive topic then leave them hanging. I think our original plan to have ‘on demand’ support, divided up as volunteer shifts behind the scenes, probably would’ve gone better.

⭐️ returned a laptop we had out on loan

📚 got feedback from my stats professor and watched a couple lectures about my final project

🧡 got a reply from my department chair about my letter of recommendation

He said he would work on it next week, which I really appreciate. There are so many things as a first generation student that would’ve been helpful to know that.. you often don’t know you don’t know until the mistake has already happened... Even my efforts to ask people ‘who’ve been there’ questions hasn’t really been enough to circumvent the lack of knowledge that gets passed down from generation to generation. For example… many have emphasized the importance of building relationships with relevant people and that I will need strong letters of recommendation. However, nobody mentioned that when asking for a letter of recommendation, it’s usually with a month or more’s notice. also there are some quirks about the application process that nobody elaborated on.. I’m sure they would have explained, but I guess I didn’t ask the right questions or they assumed someone else would tell me.

So.. My ignorance has me feeling like a bit of an ass and grateful for everyone’s flexibility.

😬😅

The kindness of my department chair got me to thinking about the last appointment with my counselor, which left me adrift with a realization about myself, but no idea what to do with ‘that’. I have no idea what could help with the feelings of despair when I am floundering, barely hanging on wishing I had a support system then having to digest all over again that no matter how hard I work to better my circumstances blows keep coming and no matter how hard life gets, no help is ever coming (mainly grieving that I come from a family that is extremely dysfunctional, so although I feel dauntingly alone at times fending for myself as per usual, ‘this’ is still the better option or that my own familiarity with dysfunction and poor boundaries selected a toxic village; which I’ve since estranged myself from for years now.. These choices are surely healthier, but the isolation is particularly heavy when I’m barely hanging on) … then I shut down, rest until I have it in me to yet again fight the good fight and rise up from the ashes (not a secure foundational to build on.. lots of putting out fires and damage control then rebuilding)

Moving on to less depressing thoughts… 😺🌈🦄🍰

Most of the time I enjoy my alone time, so I rarely get lonely in the conventional sense.

Maybe I could try joining special interest groups on Facebook again for the camaraderie?

RB helps. He is thoughtful in many ways, but mostly it helps to have a best friend again or to feel like there’s finally someone ‘with me’ in this, which has never been the case.

Maybe I could ask fairy godmother for help more often before I’m buried?

However, I don’t like having so many eggs in one basket. I need to branch out. At the same time, Covid prevents me from ‘mingling’

So… my ‘behavioral’ and ‘social’ solutions are what they are..

That leaves the Cognitive

That is the wall I’m not sure how to get around.. For a lot of people the solution is leaning on God/s, which is probably not going to work for me at this phase of my life where I don’t believe in a humanized deity that is concerned with human drama or wellbeing. I can’t change who my family is, but I do make a point to not talk to them, particularly my mother, very much when I am going through a hard time because it pokes the wound and exacerbates the depression. I guess I could work more on processing my grief, but that doesn’t help me with the finite stressors that are actually triggering the hyper arousal stress response. I do have people in my life I can call to chat with, which sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t depending on the severity of my circumstances because their well-intended platitudes feels a lot like someone clapping for you from the dock as you’re drowning, “We believe in you!” Thank you I guess? 🤷🏻‍♀️ 😅 After nobody bothered to call me when I finally was accepted into grad school I have decided several one-sided connections aren’t worth my emotional energy anymore where when we do talk they go on and on about themselves, but clearly couldn’t give a damn about me. It’s ok, but I don’t need that drain.

So these are things I can do for myself that reduce negatives pecking at my attitude.

I just don’t know about adding positive buffers because… refocusing on the people I can count on tends to just sort of remind me how very few there are.. heh. And self-pep-talks, “something something what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger” is already burned up fuel at that point of despair.

Then today I realize that i’ve been terribly sad at times that I don’t have supportive friends and family,

but I’ve overlooked how understanding, supportive, and flexible many professors have been.. people within the administration who have been willing to work with me even when I make mistakes and help me find solutions.. supervisors willing to take a chance on me. my caseworker who has known me for over a decade who has always vouched for my character and is going to support my petition for the masters degree scholarship..

💙

when I think about all that cumulatively, I feel..lighter. No, I can’t invite any of these people over for dinner. They’re not the shoulder I cry on,

but their support has been invaluable. I could not have gotten this far without their help and encouragement.

I have not been so alone on this journey.

#journal #my writing #writing #motherhood #parenting #100 days of productivity #studystudystudy #positivemindset #depression #anxiety #generational trauma #trauma recovery #trauma

2 notes · View notes

itsnotresilience · 3 years

Text

How to I Turned my Self Hate Inward and Outward AKA how to abuse everything you take for granted AKA how not to live while getting cancer treatment aka how to ruin your life

A reflection on 2009-2012

I want to be clear about a few things. I have no written record of this time period. This is all from my memory of this time frame which is frankly, not great. I was in the midst of cancer treatment and I would say in a psychosis level of depression and mania. I likely don’t remember events in the right year or right order so feel free to correct me.

My second husband had escaped to a life without me. He was going out with people I believed to be our friends with someone not new but not me. I had elected to stay because frankly I had nowhere else to go. I think that’s the lie i told myself then, that I had no other choices. There were other choices but I didn’t make them. My cycle was: treatment, sick, better so party, then fatigue and depression and repeat. Some stages of that cycle were longer term than others.

I started internet dating out of loneliness and rejection. What the fuck was I doing? I still don’t know. I think honestly I was erasing the rejection with these dates so I could feel wanted by someone. Most of them were nothing. The majority were nothing. A few I thought were something but they were jerks or saw my damage or were abusers. I did meet one good person and we’ll come back to him soon.

Anyway, I had also stopped eating for the most part, everything tasted like metal all the time. I would very stupidly drink which fueled days of very painful sickness. There were days I laid in my bedroom and listened to my husband romance someone else. It’s hard to acknowledge that I chose this road. There’s part of me that has blamed squarely my ex-husband but I could have made so many other and better choices.

Around this time my work was going through what I might say was the longest lasting reorg ever. It started in 2010? 2011? And finished in January of this year. I’m going to be careful here. Every however much time it was between, a group of folks would get laid off or redistributed. There were only two notaries at my work and I was one of them. All the impacted people had these documents that had to be notarized (FYI business owners with employees- this is unnecessarily humiliating) so they all came to my desk. Many of them were people I cared about. Watching them be treated this way added fuel to my fire.

I have to be really careful. I’m touching on things related to people I admire, love and care about. People I would walk through fire for. I still treated them badly because I treated everyone badly, including myself. I lied by hiding all my dirty laundry but I just wrote that and realize it’s a lie. People did know some of what was going on. Others were victims of my inability to get a grip on myself. There are parts of my heart and mind that are so sad about how I treated my friends. This is one of the hardest essays I’ve written because this all feels like it could have been yesterday.

I was traveling a lot for work, balancing my treatments and my lifestyle of secret internet men that I flirted with. Most weren’t anything but someone to make me feel less bad but there was always a time, everyday, that all the escape routes faded and I was left with me and what my life had become. I would get so panicked and upset it was like being swallowed by a fiery pit. All I could see was how terrible I was. I don’t remember most of my work trips but not because I was partying. Most of them I was not feeling well and was just trying to push through. This travel was an amazing opportunity career wise, to prove myself and what I could do. I can say now that I failed at proving anything other than I was a mess. Work was my one stability but even that couldn’t hold me together.

In 2010, I met a man who when I first met him struck me as someone also going through something. He had a great smile, a sparkle in his eye and was genuinely just a nice guy but I didn’t really want someone who was going to be nice to me because I didn’t deserve that and I was still married despite whatever was going on there. We went on two dates before I felt that I was too sick, mentally and physically, to pursue it. He felt too nice for someone like me. I moved on to other internet flings that were meaningless with most of them just adding more fuel to the self hate fire. In October, I got back in touch with nice guy. Inside I felt bad that we talked about each other’s dates and that I was lying to him about my marital status (but not the state of my marriage). I don’t know why I did that. Yes I do. That was a lie. I did that because I didn’t want to be rejected. I wanted to be able to move on like my ex-husband had. All that mattered to me was not feeling his rejection.

On that third date, I don’t know what was different. I can’t describe it. I looked up and fell for the guy. He seemed so normal. He seemed to have had some life experiences that created a normal set of ethical behavior. I was not that person but I valued that in him. We decided to see each other exclusively but I was still living with my ex who since 2009, while I was gone and sometimes when I was home, had his new friend in our home. I write this and think this is ridiculous. I don’t even understand what you’re doing Meghan!

In November 2010 a bunch of really bad crazy shit happened. I increasingly slept at my boyfriend’s, my other friends’ house who were stable, or my car. I once paid for a hotel room a few miles from my condo to not be in my house. I hosted some wine thing at work that I came home early from to find my ex and his friend having sex in our living room on our couch. I couldn’t do this whatever this charade was. I packed all my stuff or what I could and went to stay with my boyfriend. This was not my best decision of so many bad decisions. We weren’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready for any of that.

My family had planned a trip to Hawaii to celebrate my dads retirement. It was already a catastrophe. My sister wasn’t going. My brothers marriage was near failure. I was not feeling well and would have to do a treatment before going. I spent most of that trip with my mom or my dad. My ex was there because he had a ticket because we were hiding our entire garbage from my family. My boyfriend and I fought the entire time. He knew I was there with my ex and so thought a reconciliation was happening. That was not what was happening. I spent every night in bed, in a separate bed, from my ex. He partied with my brother who I felt super angry at, that he was betraying me, although now I’m not sure how much he knew but definitely more than my parents. I missed my sister. I was sad that she was going through her own pain and her and I weren’t connecting. The highlight of that trip was a luau that I sat next to my father and a sunrise bike ride down Haleakala. I was not looking forward to going wherever home was.

In December, my boyfriend and I just started fighting more. My boyfriend knew I was hiding things from him and I’m not sure why I didn’t just say I’m still married. Yes, I do. I think there was a part of me that felt if I kept myself hidden, he couldn’t reject me. I was still also texting my old internet dating people who had turned into friends. None of them were anything except someone who could make me feel good (give me a compliment, flirt with me) if someone else made me feel bad. It was wrong. God I was so so wrong. My boyfriend would get jealous and distrustful and lash out by being controlling and then I would react to the controlling behavior by being even more elusive. I just kept spinning in this web of lies, reacting to him and sinking further into a mess of constant drama I was creating because I just didn’t care. I did care, but not enough. I would care too much about the wrong things. The wrong things would spin out of control blowing up the good things and then it would just keep going. As I started to feel better and enter remission, things only got worse in my personal life. I finally went back and got my cat and the rest of my things from the condo. I had to leave my cat Etta behind, who I adored. I almost grabbed her when I picked up Coltrane. It was heart wrenching.

Most of 2011 was travel, fight, repeat. I was lying to everyone and not feeling like anyone was going to be there when shit fell apart. I wouldn’t let anyone see the full picture. I saw all my lies as necessary to protect me from rejection and abandonment. I was a walking chaos. I don’t remember much of 2011 except a constant state of anxiety and my inability to control the chaos.

In May 2012 (I’m going to be careful here), my boss, who I admired and adored was let go. That broke something in me. It was the lighter fluid I needed to create a bonfire of anger. It was watching someone I saw as a good man be treated poorly. I walked into the office of his boss and asked why? Why him? This made no sense! I wanted to talk to whoever made this decision! Set them straight! To his credit, this man knew me so well he advised very strongly that I think it out and maybe not confront the other big boss decision maker. This is hard because I’m trying not to name names but many of those reading know who these people are.

So all those people reading that worked with me know what happened next. I totally did not take that very sage advice. I asked to speak to the big boss decision maker and I cheekily asked him to explain his decision to me, to help me understand why this other person was better than my boss. I told him it seemed like a dumb idea. I’m not sure what else I said but I likely cemented my future that day. I’m surprised I didn’t get fired then. I was later told that big boss decision maker told others that he was sure I hated him ( I did, but only because he embodied every person who had been an asshole to me) and it wasn’t even me this was happening to. It felt empowering to advocate for someone else. To his eternal credit my boss and mentor advised me not to go to bat for him anymore before he left, not to ruin my reputation and career over this. I really wish I had listened. I had no interest in working for the man who replaced him. I don’t care about being careful here. He reminded me of a used car salesman who sold lemons everyday. The other option was my old boss who, let’s just say, was not someone I admired.

I had to go Orlando, I think this was June 2012. It would have been a good opportunity for me to showcase my role and knowledge. I obliterated the opportunity. Let’s see. I talked to the other new boss and asked his advice for the future and shared my disdain for the decisions made and the treatment of employees, you know, the decision of choosing the man I was talking to over my boss? Are you uncomfortable yet? Then I went to drink with friends while my boyfriend madly texted me accusing me of lying and cheating. The drama sent me to my room where I flirted and complained to old internet friends basically cementing that while I wasn’t cheating, I wasn’t fully committed to doing the necessary hard work with myself or my boyfriend because I wouldn’t allow for rejection from anyone ever again. Our argument fueled an ugly break up call in the morning and I showed up hung over, crying, to a very important meeting. I proceeded to be extremely difficult in that meeting. I made a lot of bad comments about the company and its decisions. I questioned the facilitators objectives. What the actual fuck Meghan? I didn’t belong there, or anywhere or with anyone. I belonged in a psychiatric hospital or at the very least intensive therapy and under medication.

Anyway, I came home to the home I didn’t have and had to move out to a new place. My friends brought me some things I didn’t have anymore (I just had to replace the iron!). One friend took special care to help me decorate my new place and make it a home (I still have the vase!). I was terrified of being alone. I was terrified of what had happened in 2003 when I lived alone. I began partying extremely hard.

I was binge drinking. My boyfriend and I, broken up, just kept hurting each other and everytime he hurt me, I hurt him and myself. I would binge drink, find a man on the internet, and either met up or just participate in flirtatious activities. Everytime after, I would sit, empty, hating myself more and contemplate killing myself. I wanted to die and if I couldn’t die I would destroy myself. This kept escalating until July 4th when I tried to push the reset button and see some old friends. I wanted some normalcy. My ex-boyfriend and I got into a screaming match over the phone at my friends home. My friend kicked me out, saying she’d grown up in an abusive home and had had enough of my behavior. I never saw that friend again. I spent the rest of that day reconciling with my boyfriend, trying to come to terms with what I had created and him trying to get me to fess up to who I really was. It was very emotionally taxing and painful. It was all so unnecessary, all this chaos I created out of my own selfishness and pain.

At work, I was acting increasingly erratic. Boyfriend and I had a screaming match while I was inside the office. Did I not realize there was an outside? Or my car? I was called into HR and asked about the Orlando trip and told I acted poorly. I was asked to provide a list of what I was doing and pretty much told how replaceable and useless I was. About a week after that (which I’m assuming they spent finding people to do my work) I had a meeting set the day after Labor Day with HR and dude I was working for. It was torture (hey don’t do that to people-that’s dumb!) waiting to know what was going to happen. The day finally came and I was told I was losing my job but out of the kindness of their non-existent hearts they’d extend my healthcare through the six weeks of pay I was getting. They made sure to tell me it was not their idea but boss guy in Orlando who wanted to make sure I was taken care of (or I didn’t sue them so you choose). My friend who I worked next two everyday for ( 2 years? 4 years?) helped me pack. We were both crying and sad. I sent some emails to some of the best people I’ve ever met and adore today to say goodbye. They had all been so good to me. So many of them supported my career and taught me so much. I now realize how much I took them for granted.

I went home and my boyfriend took me out for dinner and drinks and I sunk into a very deep depression that I lived in for the next 4 years. I kept thinking about my destroyed life, all of my destroyed lives, all of my destroyed opportunities. It didn’t take me long to find another job. It was totally different-a chance to move into another industry and line of work. I ended up hating it but more so because I was still so fucked up. It also took forever for my relationships to heal. I did this. This was me. I live with this all the time. It has taken me a decade to come back from this period of my life and I still feel it. People don’t understand how you get stuck. People don’t know how the tapes of bad choices can play over and over. People don’t know this wasn’t my first chaos or my first failure. All I can see some days is an endless trail of heartbreak, deceit, bad behavior, and failure. All I can see is some version of damaged Meghan being awful. I don’t feel I deserve my success. I feel I’ve just been lucky. I squandered a lot of things others deserve and would be happy to have. I manipulated others in order to save myself from pain. I need to stop. This essay has to stop for now. I can’t take it. I need a break. Give me a break, brain.

Nearly a week later, I pick this essay back up and wonder what I can say, what I learned from all this. People do shitty things. I watch true crime on ID all the time and I’m never shocked on the capacity of humans to do crazy things. But why? But why? I was drowning. I was drowning in all the Meghans of past and present. I was suffocating in all the failures of my life. In these moments, it all felt like a joke.

Why do we destroy ourselves? Why do we hurt those we love? I can only say that my actions moved chaos forward while inside I waited for the implosion that would end me. I was hoping I’d be destroyed but also burying my pain. Self destructive behavior is selfish but it’s also a manifestation of internal mental health issues. It’s like hoarding, a physical, visual manifestation of some internal pain that needs to be buried.

Maybe you’re someone who reads this and thinks I’m terrible, manipulative, a liar. Maybe I am all three things. I’m at least a liar. I’m a liar who lies to protect myself and a liar who craves acceptance and love. My sheer will and drive has kept me afloat. The love of those who should hate me has kept me afloat. My rage and need to prove myself has kept me afloat. And all this past seeks to make sink.

Here is a secret I’ve stopped keeping. I’m plagued by envy, all the time. I’m envious of people with children. I’m envious of people who have romantic love-laden relationships. I’m envious of careers that happen earlier in life while I now am past my prime. I’m envious of prettier and skinnier women. I’m envious of people in good health. All of this envy spins in my head as my punishment. My inability to cope effectively with my life, my illness, my rejection. No one gives you instructions.

No one gives you instructions but everyone is there with an opinion when you fail. I cannot sit with this part of my life. It’s unbearable to me. I thought my life would be different. I thought I was a good, decent person. Nearly all the things I thought myself incapable of I realize am perfectly able to do. There’s no way to live with that everyday, that gross failure of your own standards.

Maybe now, you read this and you still don’t understand. Maybe you think I got away with it. Maybe you say karma is a bitch and I deserve my punishment. How much punishment? What type of punishment, for how long? Who decides these things? I can say that living with this version of me is so uncomfortable that I had a plan, previously described to you, to end it all before I turned 40. I think about escaping my past daily. My tapes: undeserving, ugly, lying, angry, awful, hateful play over and over. Even writing this is suffocating.

Maybe you’ve done something awful. Something you regret. Or maybe you’ve been mad at someone like me, someone who made mistakes and hurt people. All you can do is what I do. I have to see there’s some good in me. I have to live in a way that makes me redeemable. I won’t beg for pity, understanding, acceptance or forgiveness. I can only say that there is more to me, that I’m writing this despite my deep shame. I’m writing this for me and you and anyone who’s lived a very imperfect life that may be out there, torturing themselves with their failures.

0 notes