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mothmansfriend · 5 years

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when i’m sad oh god i’m sad pt. 1

link to pt. 2

follows a very similar timeline to @tearxofink‘s fic Rules for a Functioning Alcoholic but will prob have differences (such as no established relationships) and takes place in @illogicallyinclined‘s hockey au after the mention of Remus possibly having undiagnosed bipolar disorder

update: i think its important to acknowledge roughly where this takes place in the big timeline bc D doesn’t really drink past freshman yr in this AU because of self preservation and trauma, alcoholism was more an issue before then in high school (when remus and d were Rowdy Boys) but the stress of Logan’s concussion lead to some heavy drinking that was caught quickly by Virgil because Remus Cannot Keep Secrets.

summary: Remus has undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder and is dealing with a severe depressive episode in the aftermath of realizing that binge drinking with D wasn’t just his own search to Feel Something, but was also D’s relapse into alcoholism. Remus comes to the realization of lost time during manic episodes and refuses help.

tw: graphic descriptions of a depressive episode, self harm (burning), suicidal thoughts, and suicidal intent (but not attempt). unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, mentioned alcoholism, undiagnosed mental illness, miscommunications on shared trauma, ask to tag if i missed any.

Remus doesn’t think he’s ever felt happy in his life.

But that can’t be true. He’s sure it wasn't even two months ago he swore he’d never felt sad before in his life and he knows that one wasn’t true either.

Though, right now the younger Prince twin couldn’t even be certain he feels sad right now. He can identify some feelings, like dizziness (he stumbles through the lobby doors, it’s too bright out its giving him a headache that better not be a hangover), guilt (“Do you even think about anyone but yourself?” No, Virgil, you know Remus better than that. “You know how hard getting sober was the first time, D suddenly taking you out to the bar during the week didn’t raise any flags?” It didn’t, Remus is too self absorbed), and most importantly something he can’t quite label that came in through his lungs smoother than the cheap cigarettes he hates (but uses as an excuse to turn himself into a human ashtray) and settled deep inside him just under a month ago (weeks before D suggested goiung to the club on w Tuesday evening for the first time in almost a year) and it's getting heavier and heavier every day. Possibly, relief was felt when he was greeted by a totally empty apartment instead of a holier-than-thou brother trying to enforce ‘responsibility’ and his first real friend whom he recently enabled in a relapse.

The normally obnoxious and loud man silently rides the elevator to their floor, tripping over his own feet as he exits not even offering a head bop to the cheesy elevator music. He enters the apartment and slams the door harder than necessary but can’t bring himself to feel bad. There's no elegance or emotion to closing his door, landing on his bed full clothed after barely kicking off his shoes and grabbing the controller to turn on Netflix and select the first Saw movie.

It’s halfway through the second movie when he hears someone return home and make what is probably lunch before leaving again. He takes a moment to wonder if his professors or classmates notice his absence or if they’re just thankful for it. He’s sober and he feels the burns on his ankles and arms throb in time with his black eye. God he wishes he wasn’t, but pissed off his last more-than-a-little-sketchy friend and he doesn’t have the energy to find the stash he knows D hid in the apartment somewhere.

Just as Saw II ends and the third begins, he opens his window and lights up a cigarette with a lighter he knows he stole from someone. The smoke coats his throat and the terrible burning taste of nicotine sticks to the roof of his mouth, the headrush barely makes it worth it. Remus considers maybe he needs something stronger, Virgil seems like the type to secretly smoke weed. Wandering minds think about the movie he just watched and the classic needle pit, he certainly isn’t afraid of needles. He slams his head into the glass of his window and takes another drag. The reality of that thought would be a bigger issue than many things he’s done, it’s not often that he rejects things his brain throws at him. He stares out the window and a group of students pass and he sees the exact moment they smell his shitty cigarettes as they look around and glare when they see him. He realizes how often people look at him like that and it feels like the first time that it bothers him. He puts the cigarette out in his lower calf and holds it there until the darkened skin and burning pain is all he can think about

The fifth movie ends marking around 10 hours of blankly staring at the screen. He’s only wearing boxers and the ratty t-shirt he’s been wearing for days. Both roommates are home. The group chat is going off Remus briefly saw a few messages, a reminder about practice Thursday morning, Patton looking for baking suggestions, Virgil asked if anyone heard from Remus because they didn’t finish their discussion.

Remus mutes the chat for the first time and when his phone falls off the bed, doesn't bother reaching for it.

The eighth movie ends. It’s been darkout for awhile, though he isn’t sure quite how long. Remus really feels as if his body has melted and merged with the bed. He hopes he’s dying. He eats stale chips he had hidden in his nightstand and can’t even get out of bed to smoke half a cigarette and put it out on his exposed thigh.

He falls asleep after silencing his brain as best as he can right now.

The next time he wakes up the sun is either setting or rising. He doesn’t really care. The hockey player doesn’t really know if he's stayed still this long, almost ever. If he thinks about it though he is pretty sure he did this last spring. He’s also pretty sure no one noticed last time either. Sleeping seemed to have helped a little and he figured he could probably make a trip to the bathroom and maybe the kitchen if he’s lucky, he noticed that pizza box under his bed is smelling pretty terrible. It’s been four days since he was home spoke to anyone, and no one has checked in on him. He hasn’t left his room since his return, the gatorade bottle of piss is evidence of such. And miraculously, he actually manages to throw out the pizza, steal a ziplock bag full of Roman’s cereal, and use the bathroom. While washing his hands he stares at the shower and decides it’s waited four days, it can wait one more. Just before heading back to his room, Remus swipes the mickey of vodka he saw behind the flour.

He watched the sun rise through his half open blinds and doesn’t remember the last time he saw the sun rise. Remus had yet to touch the vodka, mostly because it hit the floor hours ago and he’s pretty sure he can deal for a few more hours. Today marks day five in a world without Remus Prince opening his fucking mouth to say some dumb shit that probably hurt someone and he didnt even notice. Remus can’t bring himself to care. He can’t stop thinking about how no one has asked about him since. He read the groupchat, Remus knows he’s a nosey bitch, no one has asked about him since a halfhearted response from Roman implying he hadn’t been gone long enough to worry. This sparks a kind of exhausted anger and Remus feels no amount of guilt for stealing his brothers vodka. The smoke weighing him down from inside lulls him back into the bone deep fatigue with no release.

It’s night again, likely early in the morning. Remus’s head is a deep echoing cave of different ways he could die if he just got out of bed. He’s been thinking about the hunting knife he swiped at someone’s house party months ago, for a few hours maybe. He’s had many thoughts like this before, about how fragile human skin is, about how fun it could be to slice open, how warm his own blood would be as it flowed out and he could reach in and feel his final breath.

God, does he want that. His hand reaches out and grabs his chest pulling on any skin he can grip onto as tight as he could. He’s never been good at anything, he knows he has never been a good person, he can’t stop circling around what Roman could possibly mean that Remus hasn’t been gone for long enough to worry when he’s so sure he’s never been gone more than three days. His phone though, if he goes back far enough in his phone, he thinks Roman is right. Google Maps places him in places he doesn’t recognize in cities he’s never been to. His chest seizing up in a way he’s only seen on others.

He’s always been able to hold onto even if his parents didn’t love him, even if no one ever liked him or missed him, that Remus Prince was never fake, he never played nice, he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t he never hid his feelings about anything. If anyone asked him, he’d tell them and it’s their fault if it hurt their feelings. But, how can that be true now? Who is he on these days he doesn’t remember.

Forgetting where he was or getting distracted midway through a task or conversation were always normal for him, the ADHD if he had to guess; but the realization it wasn’t minutes or even hours that he forgot upsets him in a way he didn’t think he could recognize. Remus thinks that this might be the closest he would ever get to understanding how so many people fear him. and he does not like it at all.

The knife is so close. He lights a cigarette. No one else is awake yet. No one has realized he’s even at home. How long would it take to find him? Days? Weeks? How long is he usually gone? Would the smell be what finally pulled someone into to check on him? He puts the cigarette out on his leg. He knows the knife is in the bottom drawer of his desk under old notebooks and packs of pens dumped loosely inside. It’s less than five feet away. He wants it.

He sits up, swings his legs numbly off the side of the bed and stands up. It feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. In a mere three steps forward he sits down on the ground behind his desk chair to wretch open the drawer and sees just how messy it is. His phone goes off and he pulls it by the wire to check, a reminder for practice at 6am. He shoots Coach an apology text for missing practice for the first time in his hockey career and throws his phone back towards the bed. His body feels so heavy as he shoves a hand roughly into the drawer to search for the knife, frustration when he can’t immediately find it leads to him slamming his head into the wooden desk leg before letting it fall onto the chair cushion as his hand wiggles around for a few moments, each second filling him with aimless anger. The drawer slams shut and he flops onto the floor.

He can’t even find the energy to kill himself. Pathetic. He glares at the desk from his place on the cool floor until the fatigue brings him back to sleep.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #bipolar disorder #self harm #suicidal thoughts #angst #hockey au #university au #link to the other fic is fixed #notes on timeline added

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uncrownedwords · 4 years

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Trauma,

Let me paint a picture, a story in your mind. Trauma like a friend, has come to story time. With it , bring those flashbacks of the ones you'd rather hide . With it brings you forward all your petty lies behind the pride. A story left to tell for it's been hidden far to long;

Starting with a plane ride , and ending with one too. The day we picked you up the sky was just so blue. I thought this was a good thing,and boy I was so wrong for the trauma that consumed me --- would go on for far to long. You painted this pretty little picture of derangement in your head of how our life would be together as you stitched your thread together using my very soul, no noticed as you unraveling me at every point you could.

Compliant was I ever with the things put in my drinks you lied and told me , it was all just in my head as the flashes of me naked now fill my nights with dread. You claimed you where my master, you claimed you where a God, you claimed so many things you wanted without asking and reworded it as love . You forced my affection to feed your ego in this world of make belive. So scared was I, yet I stayed so hopeful that your promises of change where valid and authentic.

The moment you where angery the world stoped making sense, as your hands found my face over and over again. So bruised and so broken the ER was a home . So many lies that never unfolded as they saw the bruises you left scattered across my skin like a coloring book. Lies I told to save my life as you watched from the chair across the room . To busy would the cops have been , with what I was wearing to contrate on the purple way my skin tented after every time I disappointed you.

So mad where you with everyone's happiness that you took it out of me. Damaging my mind and my body in your pillaging drive to claim what was never yours.... Your name was their carved into my skin ... where you left it knife in hand. , where you left me on the bed in the dark alone, when you where done with your master plan . You gave me panic attacks and disguised it as love . As your fingers traced every mark in adoration of the ways in which you could unconsentually hurt me.

You stole every password, every shread of my identity, every inch of my existance hung on the balance of your every whim like the puppet I had become on a string waiting to be used whenever you saw fit to force my compliance. You reworded everything onto everyone else for the way you told us all the blue sky was purple in a hope to convince the world and yourself of the unfathomable horrors you claim to have blocked from your memory with the 7 plus other people you swore occupied your head. Still I belived you could change and such was the trauma , of every inch of my sanity slowly slipping away .

You took my peace of mind and the safty of home as you forced my phone into your hands and changed everything you could to block the outside world from me and me from the outside world. Because of you I'm scared to be in the dark for to long by myself, because of you I'm scared to go out at night or trust anyone at all , I guard my drinks closely , I watch what I eat and I try to hurry up in the shower so the water does not trap me in my own mind. Which attacks itself in constant fear of your return.

Somedays I dont pick up my phone at all because I can't bare one more alert, as you hack into things yet again. Screen shoting my words to send back to me in anger mophing me into a robotic version of myself only made to agree with you. So paranoid am I of technology as I block you on every form of media known to man yet you still find ways to torment me again and again. Because you tried to drown me in a tub and call it a baptism I'm scared to stay alone in the bathroom for to long. The sad thing is I know why I have these fears and still I see your face haunting me every second of the day . Because of you I am afraid of my own shadow and the thought of someone touching me alone is enough to drive me into panic.

Because of you I wake up screaming in the middle of the night and freak out enough to turn every light on in the house and hide under my bed. You duck taped my body and covered me in slurs as you dumped cold ice water all over me until I was drenched and still you didn't stop nothing was ever enough as you took pictures of me and sent them to your friends as you raped me and had no regret because of you I'm scared to have sex. Because of you I'm scared to even exist anymore. You took a chunk of my sanity the day you pushed me off the bed because I looked like a 'dead fish' after you assulted me.

The fear that never left my eyes as you shouted and screamed how stupid and worthless I was and how I would not amount to anything . The fear that never left my eyes when you punched me in the face and knocked me unconscious in a rage that two other people saw but yet you claimed you couldn't rememebr until they called you out on your bullshit. A fear to even use my bank because you forced me to give you the passwords and took all my money on the grounds I couldn't be trusted . Because you called and pretended to be me and closed my accounts .... there was never justification in your actions . In your financial, physical, emotional, mental , sexual or identity abuse because of you I have Trauma. There is no apology that can fix the mess you made as you tried to tell me you wished you could change, only to admit you where lieing in an effort to control me again. Which drove me insane.

You started drugs and forced every second of my 2019 to be as miserable as it could be , using our rent and car money to fuel your secondary needs as if the Meth you took was far more important then our need to survive. You hurt so many not just me but everyone else around us. Because of you I am afraid . Afriad to do the things I normally would have never been afraid to do . I'm scared to leave the house in fear of you being there again . You swore to me I would never be anyone elses as you created a fantasy I was forced to play along with for survival only to be thrown off guard as you knocked me unconscious and choked me so hard I turned blue . The cops and doctors never sided with you. All MY friends never sided with you. You ruined every inch of my sanity but yet you where insistent on taking more. This Trauma was never enough for you.

This is my voice, this is my statement from the nightmares, the terror filled dreams , the way I wake up screaming and crying and shaking like a leaf. Because the PTSD you caused is like a plague one of which spread to many different things as month after month my Stockholm got worse until I was so oblivious to your constant abuse. You caused me so much pain. Pain I couldn't handle as the doctors admited me for fear I may take my own life.... because of the trauma I endured. The trauma you spread over every part of our lives.

Anytime I was happy --- a road trip to a friends , three chances and at each turn you broke into my accounts... at each turn you dramatically lied to get your way for me to return. You threatened to kill anyone that stood in your way of getting to me. Yet still you saw no derangement in your illusions.

Trauma defined as a deeply distressing or disturbing experience. That is all you are now as my words flow off the pages that is all you are now an experince --- a bad one with some good points an experince a lesson --- I had to learn to become stronger yeah I'm scared but that wont change how far I've come . I wont be afraid of you anymore. I refuse to let it define me because you hurt me , you broke every inch of trust sure. My hope though is one thing you will never have... never take and never betray like you did so much else.

You were wrong once you are nothing like him, the man who hurt us so badly that we United in solidarity .... you became him in your own self involved Prophecy--- I refuse to accept the blame for your mistakes. I refuse to cover up your false truths and ignore the fact that you ... need help. Help I can not provide but this is over now , said and done they know your flaws everyone and though I didnt use a name people have heard my story of the days in which my fears cause me the most worry. Trauma is everywhere and that's okay right now. My wounds will heal both mental and physical, but you'll always be the one who hurt another human being.

The end.

#trauma #ptsd #aniexty #fear #survivor #struggles #words #lost #staying alive #broken words #tattered memories #flashbacks #mental health #stop stocking me

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erosjeon · 6 years

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Kalopsia

Pairing: Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Summary: You walk into your home one day to find your cat walking on two feet, in a human form.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Words: 2.5k

You kicked the door shut after trying your best to get it opened with your unavailable hands that carried the heavy groceries. With a grunt you managed to reach for your cross body and throw it over the couch while making your way to the kitchen to put down and organise all the things you bought.

You had a simple life, a twenty years old girl who’s trying to make a living in this cruel world. Your parents had passed when you were young and ever since then you had to make your own money, be it from taking extra shifts at the cafè you worked in to working at McDonald’s where you used to visit when your parents were alive and wonder why people wanted to work there when most of the customers were absolute garbage and the atmosphere is unforgiving and suffocating. You had come to the realisation that those people didn’t have a choice because after all you had bills and a degree to pay for.

You would describe yourself single, you and your boyfriend broke up about a year ago, you would be really upset and heart broken if he wasn’t a douchebag and a selfish piece of shit or maybe because you only dated for a few months and realised he wasn’t the one for you.

You would say that you’re living in this apartment alone but you had a cat, a male adorable Scottish fold with the fluffiest fur ever. He was the only thing keeping you going through your hard times, he would always come and rub his head onto your feet when you arrive home, he always wanted your attention and would would beg and purr for your pettings just like he is now.

You crouch down to run your fingers through his adorable ears with the biggest smile sprawled onto your face, you can never help it when he looks at you like that. Only if a real man can actually look at you like this.

“Hi Kookie” you said while stretching each syllable out of adornment.

“How have you been? Were you being a good boy?” You said while peppering his fur with kisses near his ear and neck which earned you a lot purr and a lick from him.

Your cat wasn’t the typical cat that scratched at its owners if they touched him or pet him too much, yes he would get fiesty sometimes but most of the time he was peaceful and understanding. When you cry, you would find him at your lap looking as sad as you or dragging a toy in your direction in hopes that if you see him play around attend to your commands that you would feel mused and feeling better. You swore that he’s not a normal cat.

You carried him in your arms after organising everything in place. You headed to your room and put him into your bed where you would walk to your wardrobe to get a change of clothes. You took of your shirt followed by your bra, you didnt need to be suffocated at home wearing these merciless boob imprisonment outside was bad as it is, you put your head and arm through your tank top and changed your jeans into your matching pyjama shorts.

You liked to lay down in bed and pet your cat when you came back from a long day in attempt to gather a bit of energy to get up and try to make dinner. Kookie must be starving yoi thought as you patted at your lap to get your cat to come to you, which he obviously did you could swear that he liked being there maybe a little too much. You didn’t like your cat eating processed smelly canned food that they scam people with at the market, when you first got your cat 7 years ago, you didn’t have much money to get him special cat food and you would feed him whatever you were eating which he actually found much better than canned food that you bought for him when you finally earned money, he refused to eat it and you decided to never feed him it again.

“Sometimes, I wish you can speak to me” you said while rubbing his right ear between your thumb and pointer, he liked it the best when you petted his sweet tiny ears like that.

“I just feel silly when I speak about my day for hours when you probably can’t understand anything I’m saying apart from the word food” you laughed at yourself. Strangely your cat growled and it almost sounded like a scoff, did you just offend your cat?!

“Sorry. But you know im going to talk about my day either way” you shot him a sweet smile. He settled his head between his stretched paws that laid on your stomach.

“I… I think I’m going to quit” you said slowly. You didn’t expect your cat to understand the kind of world you live in. You are a hard working person but you can barely manage doing notes for class when you had two jobs like that, besides neither paid well for the long hours you worked. You though of quitting your job at McDonald’s because it was tough and was a complete crap of a job and the shifts you worked could spare you an entire night that you can use studying or maybe in the future, spare that time to work for someone who pays well.

“I’m just tired you know? I feel like my brain cells are dying when I work there. The people treat you so horribly, when I work late at night and go to clean the dirty tables I get groped and it feels disgusting. The smell is disgusting and I dont even comment on how bad the food we sell it. I feel so bad for selling people something that will reduce their life span” you sighed.

“I guess I really had enough, huh?” You said while picking up his left ear and massaging his head. The cat infront of you seemed to have understood you and gave you a pity look, which had quickly changed to what you could make out as annoyance and anger. Why are cats so weird yet absolutely beautiful.

“I guess it’s queue for dinner” you cheered,

“Grilled chicken? Or that salmon I just bought from the market baby?” You asked as if your cat would answer. You knew he would probably like salmon better and honestly, you were craving some salmon and a good beetroot salad.

The cat had followed you to the kitchen when the smell of fish showered your entire home. Of course you thought, what a typical cat he is. You noticed as he gets closer to you as you grill the salmon on the hot surface, he had wrapped your calf with his tail while looking up to you which made you squeal at his cuteness but remembered how dangerous it is for him to be close to an oven.

“I love you Kook but you have to go away, it’s dangerous here” you said before reaching for the fridge and taking out the rest of the ingredients necessary for the dish.

You had spent the rest of the night eating your dinner and watching a movie play on your TV with your beloved cat. You were feeling pretty tired and chose to end your night after emailing your boss at McDonald’s not to expect you at work anymore, you finally chose to quit but you weren’t sure if you were ready for the consequences. It’ll be okay, you whispered to yourself before shutting your eyes and brain to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up before he did like any other normal day. You headed to the bathroom and got ready to get ready for your classes, you would normally make food in the morning and put it down in a bowl so that when your cat is hungry it can eat while your not home, but as you quit your job at McDonald’s, today consisted of going to classes and coming back home early.

You made some coffee and put down a small breakfast for your cat incase it woke up before you got home but you doubted it since you’re going to come back within 3 hours and he’s showing no sign of wanting to get up any time soon. Smiling, you wore your winter coat and wrapped your neck with your favourite soft scarf and headed outside to start your day.

Classes were the same, difficult but manageable with effort anf effecient note taking, which you clearly havent done enough of. You didn’t make friends with the people that are in your course because you simply didnt have enough time to, but they all seemed somewhat nice you guessed.

Once the class was over you had a small break before the other one begins and you headed to the local university cafe for some coffee in attempt to really wake up. You waited in the queue to order your coffee, it was only one man with a slightly grey hair in front of you. You assumed he was one of those obnoxious frat party boys who dyed their hair a different colour every weekend. You rolled your eyes when you heard him ordering the same drink you were going to.

“Hi. Can I get a caramel machiatto please?” You asked of the barista, who nodded and asked for your name and the money, which of course you had given before you proceeded to wait for your drink. You had realised that the man in front of you was gone, that was quick you said before taking the drink that was placed on the table in front of you, that had said caramel machiatto on it.

You had sipped some before the same man reappears infront of you. Why was he here you said before turning away, only to hear your name and the drink you ordered being called out by the barista.

Fuck.

You turned around, and met the man again but this time, he was facing you and dear God, he was gorgeous. So unreal that you’d think he was an anime character. And you might have embarrassed yourself by taking his drink.

“Sorry, i thought you took your drink and left and I didn’t bother to check the name on the cup” you said shyly.

He took the drink placed on the table and turned it around before sipping it.

“No worries. Y/N” he said. He knew you?

“Um… Do I know you” you said confused.

“If that was a pick up line… You could do much better” he chuckled.

“Ahh.. not that. Its just you knew my name and I’m not much of a social person is all” you laughed as crismon stains your cheeks. You weren’t sure if you said that out of confusion or admiration and wanting to keep talking to him.

“The cup says your name” was all he said before giving you a smile.

“Right! Sorry again” you said,

“No problem at all” he said, before you left the cafe and continued to your class.

You were on your way home after that incident and you were smiling like a fool. At least we go to the same university, we’ll probably meet again, you thought. You didn’t know that this was not the only unexpected thing to happen today because as you turned the lock of your home open, you were met with a naked man.

“What the fuck?!” You screamed after taking in the scene right infront of you.

He wasn’t just one naked man, no he had what appears like cat ears and a fluffy long tail that you can mistake as your cat’s. You didn’t dare to look down and met his eyes, he was clearly as freaked out as you are, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. The more you looked into his eyes the more they resembled your cat’s that you stare hours in every night. You can never mistake any detail regarding your cat but this? This is insane!

“What are you doing in my house?!” You tried to be calm, not knowing how to deal with this situation. Was he a pervert with some strange kink, going to peoples homes and freaking them out like that?

“You’re home early” he said with a shrug, his voice sounding like the sweetest melody. When you fathomed what he just said you took a step back in shock. What the hell was that.

What?

“Who are you?!” You tried to stay calm and collected.

“Really Y/N? You can’t tell how your cat looks like?”

What?

“Thank God you found out this way, I was getting tired of having to stay in that stupid cat form and eat out the small bowl you would put my food in” he said annoyed.

This is not your cat. The man in front of you is definetly someone mental.

“If you think I’m gonna believe this then your out of your fucking mind” you retaliated.

He moved forward towards you before he shut the door forcefully and pinning you on it. He smirked before saying

“I can make you believe me”

He took your hand and placed them on the familar ears, they felt and looked just like your cat’s. You couldn’t help but rub them and the man in front of you leant towards your hand and purred.

You couldnt deny the fact that this pretty much is your actual cat in human form. All the memories of appearing naked and changing clothes in front of him rushed in your mind. You smacked your self mentally and stayed away from Jungkook. Yeah that was the name you had given your cat that you’d usually call Kookie.

“Why are you running away from me now?”, he said confused.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re human” you ignored him.

“Because im not” he said as if it was obvious.

“You know what I mean. You’re a hybrid, same thing” you said sighing.

“Because like you are now, you’ll distance yourself from me” he looked down, all the smug that was on it disappeared. You sighed again, you’d never leave your cat. He was your life and you’ve even wished that he could talk to you. Your wishes had come true.

“Kookie” you said before making your way to him, his ears perked up and so did his head in attempt to look at you.

“I’d never leave you. You know that” you said as you took your fingers to push through his ears like you always do. He purred again and placed his arms around your waist while he rubbed his head into your chest.

“I-I always wanted to do this… have you between my arms instead of the usual way around” he said and you smiled.

“I do feel weird about it, but I could get used to it” you smiled.

A/N: Part 2 is out now

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easilyabandonedgirl · 5 years

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You weren't ready to talk about it, but this is all you'll ever get.

Here's my truth.

I would say in fairly confident I got pregnant on the birthday. It could have been the next 2 days after, but I'm sure it was the night of my birthday.

Yes, I was on birth control pills. I took them every day, on time, like clock work. No, I did not miss a pill or take one late. But there is apparently something about you and I that makes the universe not care if I'm on birth control. Even though we did go almost a whole year without getting pregnant between Persephone and Lillith. April 2018 to March 2019.

Lillith was the reason I had an IUD put in. After receiving a less than enthusiastic reaction from you at the very thought of a baby, I told myself that if this pregnancy didn't last, I would go to a more permanent form of birth control. You made it very clear that giving me a baby was no longer something you were willing to do and I understood that the best I could. My Dr still didnt want to tie or seal my tubes, and I'm kind of thankful for that. So we agreed on a very long term IUD. So now I have a paraguard IUD in and I've had it since April 23, 2019. I can have it removed at any time if babies are in the plans, but I have to have it removed no later than April 20, 2029.

Anyway, when I started dropping hints that I was dreaming about babies and other people were dreaming about me having babies (which is 100% true), I didnt know I was pregnant. So the first couple of days when I said that I wasnt pregnant, I didnt know I was then. I found out a couple days later. I know I pushed a little too hard on the subject and thats what drove you away. But I wanted to know that you would be there for me, at least emotionally. And when you stopped replying to texts or answering calls or calling me back, I panicked. Wholeheartedly freaked me out. When I said that you mean more to me than anyone, even a baby, I meant that.

A couple weeks went by and things were pretty much back to normal with us. I was still holding on to this tremendous secret and I honestly, didnt know what I was going to do. I knew I had time to think about it still, but I didnt want you to freak out and reject me and our baby if I told you the truth. Not that I thought that was what you would do, but I was scared to even risk it. I wasnt willing to take the chance of finding out how you would react at the time. I was terrified of everything.

So I woke up the morning of a March 27th and told myself that I was going to tell you, to your face and accept whatever happened after that. You had already told me the night before you were going to come see me that day after work. I was so ready to butter you up with kisses and blowjobs and pizza and backrubs and shower time and just being the most overly affectionate human being ever. Do you remember what happened the day of the 27th?

You called me when you got out of work to tell me your were leaving. You cancelled coming over to see me, you hung up the phone on me and refused to do anything but text me. I didnt know what to do. I finally built the nerve to sit you down, face to face, and tell you the truth, accepting whatever reaction you were going to have as my fate. Then you cancelled our night together and I took it as a sign from the universe to keep my mouth shut. So I did. I kept silent.

A few days go by and I'm about a month pregnant when I start getting so fucking nauseous that I cant do anything without throwing up. I tried to hide the pain in my body with other things, I blamed being sick on anxiety (though my anxiety was outrageous, it was only 10% of why I was throwing up all day.) I couldnt eat, couldnt sleep, couldnt shower without puking my brains out. It was horrible and I'm certain my anxiety made it worse. I tried hard not to think about you leaving or about keeping this secret from you.

There were moments, so many moments, I caught my subconscious mind sending you signals. We would be laid down and my hand would put your hand on my belly without me even thinking about it. I was asking for belly rubs and back rubs and asking you to rub my feet because everything hurt so bad. There were a few moments I thought you knew or that you were wondering. One of them was the first time we had sex after I hit 4 weeks and my body starting becoming overly sensitive. I didnt notice it the first time, but as I had 8, 9, 10, 11 screaming orgasms, I thought to "Holy shit. He's going to know if I keep this up. Hes going to ask."

The next 5 or 6 times we had sex, I tried so hard to keep quiet. To keep my screaming to every 3rd orgasm. We have great sex and it's not unusual for you to make me cum 2 or 3 times. So I told myself if I only scream every 3rd or 4th time, you wouldnt become suspicious. So that's what I did.

The last week we were together, before you left, we had two rounds back to back where it was just unreal. In total I remember something like 18 or 19 orgasms. I laid beside you and you looked at me and I remember it just being such a different look on your face. I was like, "fucking fuck I'm fucking busted as fuck. Hes fucking going to fucking ask. Fuck it. If he asks, tell him the truth." But you never asked. You just closed your eyes and even when I asked, "are you thinking about something?" You said, "just about how tired I am." And I subconsciously placed your hand on my belly and we took a nap.

Now you're probably going to hate me in a thousand different ways for this, but it's the truth. When you didnt come over the Tuesday before you were leaving, I told myself I needed to make a choice. Your stuff was packed. You were leaving and there was nothing I could say or do to stop you. I wanted our baby but I wanted you more and I thought if I kept her, you would exile me. So I called and set an appointment to have an abortion. It was one of the most horrific feelings I've ever had during a phone call. My appointment was set for April 23rd at 8am. At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. So I started drinking, heavy and fast. I wanted to numb myself. The one thing I said I was never going to do again in my whole life, I now had to do. It was emotionally tormenting to say the least. I had convinced myself that no matter what I did, you were going to hate me regardless.

So I drank. And for 3 days it was all I did. It makes me a horrible person and makes me sick to stomach just thinking about it. I hate every inch of who I am because of it. I deserve to burn in hell fire for all eternity for what I did. Theres no excuse for it and you're welcome to judge and hate me, but you should know it will never surmount how much I judge and hate myself for what I did. The drinking started causing complications. That's why I was suddenly in enormous amounts of excruciating pain. My uterus started contracting and I knew I was going to miscarry. I could feel it happening all over again. The same exact lain I have become so accustom to.

I begged to Gods to keep me together until you left. Just two more days. They were kind enough to give me that. I didnt want there to be any conflict between us with you so close to leaving to the other side of the country. So close to your birthday. So I kept my mouth shut and tried to keep things as normal between us as I could. I wasnt going to be the reason to made any big life decisions. I wasnt important enough for that, nothing about me was that important.

The morning of you leaving came. When I first got our of my car at Mugu Rock, I saw your face and I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you everything. All of it. Beg you on my knees and plead with the Gods to make you stay. Right there in the gravel, in front of anyone and everyone. I didnt care about anything but not losing you. We sat on the rocks at the beach and stared off into the deep waters, across the horizon. While you were taking mental pictures of everything around you but me, I couldn't focus on anything but you. Memorizing the way your hands felt against mine. I fought hard to memorize every inch of your handsome face, every inch of your body, to count the gold flakes in your eyes and the green speckles. One by one.

You squeezed my hand and it made me want to tell you everything. I was just going to blurt it out and let it be what it was, whatever that was suppose to be. But I turned my head and saw a tear fall down your face. I heard you sniffle and I could feel all your pain and the heartbreak you had. There was no way in hell I was going to add to that. I knew in that moment that I had to keep my secret. I couldnt bare to watch the strongest man I know break down and dare to be the little cunt who adds salt to your already open wounds. I couldnt do it, there was no sound coming from my mouth when I opened it. I wiped the tears from your face and suddenly had no urge to say a word.

I lost Lillith on April 18. I never made it to the clinic. I already hate myself and know it was my fault. 100% my fault. I was drinking for a few days. I wasnt eating, wasnt sleeping, no water. Nothing. I laid in bed after you left and pretty much wished to die every single day for weeks. I laid in bed, that was it. I distinctly recall there being two days I didnt even get up to pee. I let my body suffer because I genuinely wanted to rot into a corpse. I had pain in every inch of everything. When I lost her, I didnt go to the ER, I didnt see my Dr. I just laid there hoping it would kill me. I saw my Dr on April 23rd. He confirmed my miscarriage and told me I looked like shit. He was right.

He did blood work, ran tests. The typical stuff. That's when we found our my kindneys were so dehydrated that they were failing. That's why my apartment fell into such disarray. I was really hoping the whole thing would just kill me. And I kept up my facade with you every day. Keeping to conversation turned on you, and how you were doing so I could avoid talking about me.

I didnt want to tell you I lost her. I told myself there was no point because what was done, was done. There was nothing I could say to you or do to bring her back. So there was no reason in my mind, at the time, to tell you.

And that's the whole truth. Start to finish.

I'm positive you're going to hate me, think I'm vile and foul. You're right. 100% accurate. And I know my sorry wont count at all after everything I did. But I am wholeheartedly sorry. I know I handled everything wrong. All of it. I know in my heart you would have never hated me or left me for dead back then. But I was so scared. I let my anxiety and fear run the show and it cost me everything.

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steamishot · 5 years

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End of July

i think i’ll be starting my period sometime in the next 24 hours. my friend who i am synced with just started hers this morning. tomorrow, i am using a sick day to go to to dentist. my dentist is in san gabriel- a 20 minute drive east of my home. in the past, i would only take a half day, but then i thought, why am i stressing and rushing myself to go to work when i have all these sick hours. even more so when there’s not much pending at work. so, i plan on going to the dentist in the morning, having lunch in the area, then coming home and painting my living room and kitchen. my dad asked one of his home depot contacts to come work for us lol. i’ll be taping and painting along with him tomorrow so the job gets done faster. just came back from home depot earlier and bought two gallons of shiny luster paint- the same shade and sheen as my room. i also bought a darker grey to paint the borders for contrast. hopefully it looks good. a few weeks ago, our gallon full of coins got topped off. my mom would sit and individually package the coins into the sleeves banks provide whenever we wanted to exchange the coins for cash- this would take her nearly half a day. not sure why we never used coinstar before, but we finally did it. i learned that its an 11% fee if you exchange the coins for cash, but there is no fee when you exchange for a gift card. so, with one gallon full of coins, we got about $350 total- i put about half on a home depot gift card, and half on an amazon gift card. it was funny/so coincidental today that our total came out to be exactly 2 dollars less of our home depot gift card (my dad also had things to buy and we weren’t computing the costs).

events this past weekend: friend’s going away party. she received a scholarship from fullbright- which is a prestigious academic award to represent the US in international affairs. i didn’t realize how honorable it was til today and previously saw it as another “teach english abroad” opportunity. we ate at roe seafood in long beach. i thought the food was pretty bomb- i’d give it a 7/10. however, the more i ate of my scallop porcini pasta- the more water i had to drink. taste wise it was definitely there, but the cheese/carb combo was so damn heavy. i liked the group and it felt easy/natural to socialize (also because i was sitting in between my good friends b and s). in my last blog, i was venting about b, but i realize in the grand scheme of things- the little things i get annoyed by don’t matter. she continued to do the things i got ticked off by over text, but instead of getting irritated, i tried to teach myself to be loving and forgiving and think- she’s not me, i’m not her, don’t think that what i think is the “right” way of doing things is actually right. we had a nice time together that night. good vibes throughout.

watched lion king with my mom, grandma, bro and wife. i went into the movie having low expectations due to what everyone else was saying, but i enjoyed it. the fact that we got to live through seeing the cartoon version in 1994 to seeing it full in CGI in 2019 is incredible. i love the storyline of lion king. the scene where mufasa dies always gets me. i had to hold back tears during the emotional parts of the movie lol.

matt’s free time is decreasing and decreasing. he now has to work 6 days a week. he’s at work before i wake up, and still at work after i’m off work. on a GOOD day, he’ll only be at the hospital for about 13 hours, on a bad day, maybe 16 :(. he also has to study outside of work as they have monthly exams. saturday was his one day off during the week and it was kinda sad lol. he has one day to catch up on sleep and he’s too tired to do anything else. he tells me that he doesn’t have time to drink water at work, let alone use the restroom. his lunch consists of downing a soylent. his hospital is severely understaffed and he is doing nurses’ duties (drawing blood, patient care taking). he normally calls me right after he gets off work. i get to talk to him for about an hour or so, while he’s prepping dinner and eating. he then goes shower and gets ready to sleep and i get to see him again for a few minutes before he sleeps. i feel lucky that i’m the one he wants to talk to and see every day. i hope i brighten up his day, as he keeps saying he’s “dying” lol. when he didn’t match into a residency program, he was depressed. now that he’s in residency, it’s also depressing (but at least there is an end in sight). apparently the second and third year residents are super jaded and negative. i wouldn’t be surprised if he became like that in a year lol. on saturday, he called me right before i was going to shower. so i told him that i’ll call him back afterwards. as i got out of the shower, i saw a message from him saying - take your time, i’m gonna go shower too. so i took my time and started getting ready for the going away dinner. he called me 10-15 later and was like “you didn’t call me back!” there was something so satisfying about him being needy and clingy LOL. he’s naturally an independent cerebral person so i love it when he is needy.

saturday night at like 1am, i got a random text from L asking me about relationship stuff. coincidentally, i couldn’t sleep cus your girl would have been dead asleep by 11 any other day. i’m happy that she felt comfortable enough to reach out to me and share her feelings. i learned that we both are perfectionistic, have unrealistically high expectations, and are quite sensitive. she cares a lot about how others/her friends perceive her relationship. she shared with me an instance where her bf came off a bit rude to her in front of her friends and she felt “very disappointed” in him. if i place myself in her shoes, i can understand why she felt hurt. and if its an reoccurring thing, then i’m sure the pain is stronger. however, being “very disappointed” in your partner for being human is stressful for both you and them because you set unrealistic standards for the relationship. she wasn’t able to let it go and gave the incident more attention than it needed. from hearing her story, i basically saw my problems in someone else. it makes me realize how silly and crazy i am sometimes in making mountains out of molehills. i used to think that it was good to have high standards for your partner, and i often felt disappointed by my last partner. i think it reflected more on myself than him- my needs weren’t being met, i wasn’t happy in the relationship, i stayed with an incompatible partner, etc. having “high” standards is only valuable if the standards are attainable and something that can be worked towards.

i feel very happy with my current partner. being away from him for almost two months now has allowed me time to reflect on us and myself. i’m way more forgiving with the distance, and considerate about his new schedule and circumstance. in my last relationship, i started seeing the flaws around 8/9 month mark. and if i was smart and experienced enough, i would have realized those were dealbreakers (because in the end, i broke up with him for the same reasons). coming up on 9 months with matt, i feel secure and that our issues are small issues. we’re able to get along and have similar values and ideals.

his words can sometimes come off harsh but i’ve gotten used to it and actually really appreciate him being honest and constructive with me. a week or so before he left, i was hanging out in his room. i forgot what we were talking about before but he said, “you would be much much prettier if you worked out. not that you don’t look good now, but you would look better if you worked out.” i was a little bothered by that at first, but realized he is 100% correct. i never paid attention to my body much before- but skinny fat is not a good look or feel. my bikini pics in hawaii were meh lol i was flabby, weak and out of shape. i started working out recently with dumbbells and find it so fun- more efficient work out than without any equipment. working out also helps my face maintain its shape. i realized in the past months my face started looking more bloated and fat. i’ve even received comments from two of my older friends - “you got fatter. but just in your face.” i was never mindful of how my diet and exercise routine affected how i looked. which is really dumb as a human lol. i kinda wish i was more athletic when i was younger because i’m almost just starting from scratch now. however, i am grateful that i was at least somewhat active (hiking here and there, walking, leisurely workouts) in the last few years. so, he helped me gain weight to be at a normal range (this is the heaviest i’ve been my whole life). now it’s my job to tone myself. i’ve been saying this for some time, but i’m getting more cognizant about fitness which will help the consistency.

throughout our time together, he’s only lost his patience/raised his voice a little twice during arguments. the last time he did actually helped so much in putting me in my place. he is very smart and makes pretty good arguments sometimes haha. the last time, it made me realize that it’s better to nourish my relationship rather than bring drama into it. since then, i’ve thought twice about bringing up small issues that i can learn to let go. i love that he pushes and inspires me to be better and to be hardworking. and i’m glad i’m pretty receptive to his ideas.

i read old conversations with my past partner today. it was super cringy. i come off as cold, inquisitive, and serious and he comes off as immature, emotional and uninterested in my thoughts. even reading through our messages now i felt the frustration i felt when i was talking to him then. i felt i was always trying to change him into the person i wanted him to become. i saw the potential but i didnt see the person he was. to me, he was gross, trashy and had many insecurities. the more separated i am from it, the more i am disgusted with myself for choosing that lol. however, i am grateful for what he taught me, which was what attracted me to him in the first place- how to be intimate emotionally and physically, how to talk about feelings, how to communicate, how to talk about more difficult subjects, how to bring up issues, how to understand what i’m feeling, etc.

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scorpioslut-blog1 · 4 years

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I want to produce

I want to produce art and create and draw and paint and build. I want things to be meaningful and thoughtful. I want to write and consider and analyze and deconstruct and think. I’m a thinker. I’m learning to like thinking, enjoying it, especially on drugs. I used to be so afraid of thinking, afraid of what I would think about, afraid of my mind, myself. I’m still afraid, and I wonder about that fear, whether it’s always been there or if it’s come back, like now i’m less afraid of death, but still, yesterday or the day before or whenever I was afraid to go in the cave at Sutro Baths, even though I’ve been in there before, but I know I was sort of scared then. But I don’t know if it’s empowering to know you’re scared and not do things because of peer pressure, or when I should just stop being a little bitch and just do shit. like at flog gnaw i didnt wanna do the boat ride, even though i've done those a thousand times, but not in a while not since before i became an Adult. i thought maybe it was empowering for me to know what i want to do and when, or what i dont want to do... but i did the ride and it was pretty petrifying because i hate the feeling of my stomach sinking but it was also sort of fun and me and bree were just holding on to each other screaming, and while i scream because i felt like i was dying, it does in theory feel good to scream. or to feel petrified. i dont know. but i'm glad i did it, so it makes me think of all the times i did things i didnt want to do. a lot i regret, like sexual experiences for experience, but then things i was nervous about and really enjoyed, like when i did acid that one time or microdosed on shrooms. but even flog gnaw, i didnt wanna go and i went for frank ocean and he didnt come, and i had a great time but also the whole thing wasnt like amazing or anything, it was definitely an experience though. and the most big group socializing i've done in months, to be honest. since my birthday maybe? which was a little more lonely than usual, which isnt a bad thing. but i did ecstasy right before fr(drake)nk came out and i was sooo glad, mostly because i've been having bad rolls for a while now, since august at special dinner, which is about as long as i've been sad in this way i think. when i started hating my body and it really started failing me and my relationships went to shit and i started trying to work through shit. which is obviously painful. but i dont know. again, this self enforced punishment or growth or isolation or prison sentence (dramatic and not comparable), i'm trying to learn something from this, i know its cyclical, my life that is, but i just want to be better. i want to be normal. i want to belong to myself. i want to know what i need and what i want and how to do that, or i wish that the things i wanted were good for me, but none of it is. i want to party and have fun and do drugs and eat good food and have lots of sex and watch tv and movies. i want my life to be a movie, but i'm learning for the first time in my life, or what feels like my second or hundredth life, that life is not supposed to be a movie. i'm not special. i mean i am, but again, life is not a movie. life is normal and i should be able to bask in the normality of it all, cherish it, which makes me think i'm depressed or bipolar or adhd or ungrateful or lazy or selfish or spoiled or entitled. i want normal. i want stability and routine and to wake up before noon and eat breakfast and shower and do my makeup and pick an outfit to wear, maybe do my hair, i want to do these things without feeling rushed, i want to enjoy doing these things. i want to not need to rush, i dont want to be living in apocalypse mode all the time, or high gear, or live fast die young, or carpe diem. thats one thing i'm also working on. not synonymizing carpe deiming with being self destructive or irresponsible. knowing that to appreciate life you dont have to live every day like its your last. but then i think that that method of life has also served me well; life is fleeting as i know! but i dont know. i'm trying to not rush things. not rush growing up or rushing to that next hit of dopamine or excitement or even recklessness. i know i'm destructive. but i dont want to destruct myself like this, hurt myself, because thats how the cycle perpetuates, how it feeds on itself. i feed it, i dont plan for my future self, i dont even think about the future, i'm living day to day which in some ways is enough but i want to change. i want to have enough faith and contentment to be able to wait for tomorrow, or the next day. i want to appreciate every day for what it is, appreciate myself, being alone, making myself a meal, cleaning my room, sewing a button onto my pants, doing my laundry. i dont want to just go through the motions, i want to be proud of the motions. i think if i keep going through the motions eventually theyll come a little more naturally or maybe even start to feel good. it does feel good to put clothes away or come home to a clean room or wake up not feeling sick to my stomach. but then it feels so good to lie in my bed and watch desperate housewives all day long and ignore my problems or responsibilities and eat goldfish high even though i know itll make me feel like shit in the morning. and thats why night life has been so great, yet awful, why i love it, i love dancing and making friends and being drunk and having fun and being young and living every day/night to the fullest. i’m trying to be a homebody i guess, for the sake of my health amongst other things, but instead i'm in this weird limbo, at this impasse where i'm neither being a productive morning/day person who does all the things i need to do, nor being a fun party girl who is always thinking about the next function and drugs and partying and fucking and all these human connections that i enjoy so much. nowadays i feel like i rarely even have any connections. i go days without talking to anyone besides my room mate sometimes, which is okay. thats another thing i'm trying to do, be kind to myself, not see every day as a failure or a success or even an attempt. i guess the attempt days are good though, like today, a failure but an attempt and perhaps even a half success sometimes. i want to be successful, i want to be functional. i want to do more harm than good, i want to enrich and spread joy the way i used to, but i want to protect myself. i dont want to give all of myself away, but now i'm being selfish and keeping to myself but i dont even know if i like myself. moments like right now i like myself, but i miss having friends and communities i guess. i also dont appreciate not meaningful conversations or interactions, i dont like anyone, which is toxic i know. i know i shouldnt not like people but when i'm talking to someone and i dont want to be talking to someone it feels so forced and uncomfortable and i’d rather be at home by myself, which i cant tell is good or bad, although i shouldnt be labeling things as “good” or “bad”. after sutro baths we went to kahlils friends for a little, and being around those people was weird. weird being around guys. i dont like mikey, hes annoying and thirsty but it was nice just being around guys and watching stupid stuff and smoking spliffs. and tylers cool to be around, and this other dude who i sort of know but dont like, so basically i'm around all these dudes i dont really like, socializing and trying to be social and chill and fun, which is just uncomfortable and feels performative. it was nice just watching stupid tv with them though, but i dont know, being around people is so weird to me now. i went to hang at a frat the night before i left for thanksgiving break and it was fun, being around people, letting myself be entertained instead of being the entertainee, existing just to exist and not for others or feeling like i have to be in a social mood or up all the time. but also not feeling the compulsion to drink during social situations i'm not enjoying. i'm trying to enjoy social situations without alcohol. well, i dont really have a choice, considering my health. i just dont want to be around anyone anymore i feel like... i dont feel like i can talk to people the way i want to, about real shit, or all serious and shit. i also feel like people think i'm always fun and funny and goofy and happy all the time but now i'm just such a downer, or a performer, or distant or guarded or exhausted or different. i feel like i'm different when i'm around people, and i wish i werent, i wish i were how i used to be but i'm trying to be different or more honest or less performative? i want to do things because i want to and not do things when i dont want to.

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