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eccl3ctic0n3 · 3 years

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This Is My Personal Testimony of How God Found Me When I Was Lost.

I Am A Witness and My Testimony is of Jesus Christ the living Word of God

What you FEEL and what you THINK are valid and extremely powerful as these are the things you BELIEVE to be TRUTH thus this is your REALITY!

This is your belief system. Unless you suffer from mental illness therapy and counseling can be very helpful. Just talking about it and getting it off your chest is therapeutic in itself. No matter if it is a friend or a therapists getting things out instead of bottling them up and holding them in is great relief.

I was diagnosed bipolar type I when I was 23 years old. I am 41 now and it has only been in the last 5 years that I have been able to overcome, heal, grow, and experience breakthrough.

Traumatic experiences such as verbal, mental, emotional, physical, or sexual abuse to losing a loved one or friend has a lifelong affect. Therapy and medicine are just tools to help you and give you the skills, knowledge, and some understanding, so you can cope and learn how to manage with the pain and symptoms that remain.

I don't know who needs to hear this but I am telling you from 18 years of personal experience. Actually, 41 years as its only been 18 since I began treatment. Where doctors and medicine failed me for 13 years God did not fail me. I got lab ratted on all that time with powerful psychiatric medications. I spiraled out of control and my behavior landed me in the psychiatric ward of prison in the infirmary. 10 weeks I was locked in solitary confinement on 24 hour lock. I was deemed incompetent and unfit to stand trial. I was looking at two F1 Felonies with sentences from 5-99 years each. For 10 weeks I literally lost my mind and was experiencing full blown psychosis. It was in an instant that God found me and restored me to sanity. I did not find God. He found me.

I was lost and could not tell the difference between my dreams and reality. I slept in 15 minute intervals. In one dream I dreamt that I murdered my two children. I bashed my daughters head into the wall. My reality was this place I was in where no other person is visible was like a purgatory and I was awaiting my judgment to be thrown into hell.

I was on my knees in my boxers bleeding from my head and knuckles. I was head butting and punching the walls. As I was on my knees I was singing, ''My Girl, My Girl, Talkin Bout, My Girl." I was only thinking of my daughter and that I was never going to see her again.

The guy in a cell next to me screamed, " Shut the fuck up!" I just screamed back and told him to come on over and shut me up. What was he going to do we are in solitary confinement. 😅

I lost track of time and I was still singing and I began to cry out to God. Literally bawling and begging I screamed for God to help me. Don't you know the guy who cursed me came to my door and asked me to call his momma for him to bail him out. I laughed and said ain't you the same mother fucker who told me to shut up? Before he answered I just said whatever! Just write the number on a piece of paper and slide it under my door and I will get to it.

Mind you that for those 10 weeks I could not even read or use the telephone because I just didn't know how. The hands on the clock just spun round and round. Still on my knees sobbing I noticed the piece of paper slide under my door. I forgot all about it and I couldn't read or use a phone anyway. But I looked closer and I seen the red writing. This guy tore the last page of his bible out to write the number on. The red writing just caught my eyes and the first thing I seen was this. Revelations 22:16 I Jesus, have sent My angel to you to testify in the churches. I am the Root and Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star. As fast as you could snap your fingers I realized that I could read first of all. I then noticed I felt completely normal. I was just wondering wtf am I doing in my boxers bleeding on this floor? 😅 I got up took a shower and cleaned up. The guard came by and stopped giving me a strange look and asked if I was ok. I just said Im fine Im waiting on lunch its almost noon. I could read the time cause the hands stopped spinning.

Finally I got to use the phone and I called home and asked how long I was there. I said 2 weeks? My mom said you been there almost 3 months. I did 6 months and got both charges dropped down to a misdemeanor and 4 years probation. 2 years was deferred. I literally signed out of jail on a PR Bond. No fines, fees, or court costs at all.

That was 5 years ago in October. I never could forget or deny what happened. I knew immediately what the verse meant and what I was told to do. So I have done it this entire time everyday almost on social media.

I had never read a bible before and I was far away from God. I was really on the fence about the whole Jesus thing. What I know now and I knew at that moment was this. Jesus is God! He is the Father, the Son of God, and the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God and of Christ. There is only one. Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and Sovereign Lord over all of creation.

I believe the words of the verse exactly for what they said. He sent an angel to me which is a ministering spirit and a messenger. I got the message loud and clear. So I do exactly as He has told me to.

It has been 5 years and I have not even had a cold. My doctor is weaning me off medications. It was by no means an easy 5 years at all. I suffered with overcoming addiction and the mental illness symptoms I was and still am learning to cope and manage.

There is one thing I learned in addition to all these things since then in talk therapy. I was raised by two narcissistic, one mentally ill, and completely abusive except sexually.

After all those years and all those medications and numerous doctors did not do for me what the Great Physician did in a moment of time.

Don't get me wrong. God has revealed to me that He has gifted these doctors, nurses, therapists, and the scientists or chemists that make these medications. Give or take these crooked sons of bitches.

Just know that God is Hope. Faith or Belief and any good thing at all about man is of God. He is Love. How is Jesus God? All things are possible with God. Just trust Him. Don't worry or be afraid. He has commanded us to be strong and courageous for He is with us wherever we go. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is faithful to keep His word. If He said it. He meant it. It is the Truth. Jesus said His words are Spirit and Truth. These words are Life and Jesus is the Way. The one and only true living God is the living Word of God. He was manifest in the flesh. The holy bible has been tampered with by man and today even more with hundreds of versions. However, man is foolish to think he could ever stop the Power of the Spirit and Truth that is the Word of God Jesus Christ.

Is the Father the Son or the Spirit? Is He 3 in one or one in 3? Don't split hairs with vain debates and argumentative subjects that no man can answer. There are simply things of God that man will never understand. Our finite minds cannot imagine, fathom, dream, or even comprehend the great things of God. He just said don't trip. I got this. Be still and know. Trust Me and Believe In Me. Have Faith! Never give up Hope. Without Hope this Life has no purpose and we have meaning at all. There is just certain death. Then we are worm food.

If it is all just a big story and we die only to find out that's it just black and nothing then fine with me. If we die and it is true and we chose not to simply believe and have the faith the size of a mustard seed. We'd be cursing ourselves not God from hell forever. We would know He was right and we have no defense or a word to say before the righteous Judge.

Life and death. Facts. Choose life or death. It is the most logical, reasonable, sane, and simple choice for anyone in their right mind. So anyone who says its blind faith and completely disregards facts, logic, or reason. You know just as God says. He has used the foolishness of this world for His wisdom. He makes those who are wise in their own eyes, puffed up with pride, and too stubborn or hard hearted to simply admit they do not know. Men fear what they do not know. Rightfully so. You should fear God. Both revere and be a very afraid of the One that can take your life and cast your soul into hell. He gives and takes away. Simple as that.

So remember no matter what the situation or circumstances shit is just temporary. All good things must come to an end. As do the bad. So suck it up, be strong and courageous. Has He not commanded us? He is with you wherever and nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

To anyone suffering right now I am by no means minimizing your pain. I feel you 1000% You don't have to believe a word from me. Just know there is someone who is always with you and you are not helpless or alone. You may be weak and in complete darkness that seems like hell. God is light in the darkness. He has the keys to death and hell. So weather life or death, heaven or hell. You gotta trust and believe in Jesus. If not it is your own doing. Most of our problems are self inflicted we bring em on ourselves.

This may be the hardest part for me to tell someone in depression just dwelling and can't let go. Do you know what depression is. It is YOUR THOUGHTS and YOUR FEELINGS. It is therefore YOUR BELIEF and thus YOUR REALITY!

This is self-centeredness. Depression for a while that is justified is one thing. Wallowing in SELF-PITY with the attitude WOE IS ME. MY LIFE SUCKS and nobody understands or knows what I I I am going through. No one could possibly relate to YOUR SUPERIOR PROBLEMS! GET OUT OF YOURSELF for a while. Have an attitude of gratitude. You are alive and if you can feel emotions and you woke up today then you KNOW that you are alive. LIFE is a gift from of GOD. He so loved all of us that He GAVE HIS LIFE so that anyone who BELIEVES in HIM Should Not Perish...SHOULD NOT! But HAVE RIGHT NOW AS IN THIS PRESENT MOMENT. EVERLASTING LIFE. God gave us HOPE of ETERNAL LIFE the FREE GIFT of SALVATION is the LORD OUR GOD JESUS CHRIST the ONLY BEGOTTEN of the EVERLASTING FATHER the King of Israel is the Holy One (Christ) or Anointed (Messiah) our SAVIOR and REDEEMER. Not by might nor by power but by that Holy Spirit of PROMISE which is the PLEDGE of our inheritance.

The only reason one would die when God gave us His Life so that anyone whomsoever at all Believes. The Way is the Truth and He has become our Salvation. He is the very HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE that abides forever. LOVE being the greatest. No one SHOULD die. It is a choice!!! Just like you choose to wake up and be grateful saying Thank You God. Bless you Lord Jesus for the Spirit translated "Breath or Air" of Life and the LIGHT we all see and we have heard the word of God preached and proclaimed to us all. So no one has an excuse to even say I Dont Believe! That is our free will and choice. Another gift from God. He wants you to choose Jesus and dont worry but be happy. Rejoice!! Make some noise!! God is good all the time. All the time God is good. We all have a reason for the very BREATH of LIFE that was blown into Adam's nostrils and he became a living soul. Adam just means man. Human. In His image and likeness. Male and female created He them. If you believe in Jesus and the Good News aka Gospel of the Kingdom and Eternal Life you have every reason on every Day the Lord has made to be grateful and choose to be happy. The Eternal One is the Alpha and Omega. The Ancient of Days is the First and the Last. The Almighty. Beginning and End. Genesis to Revelation. Death and Life He gives and takes away.

I pray you don't waste another moment having a pity party if you don't have an actual reason to be stuck feeling sad for an excessive period of time. It is selfish. Ungrateful.

Your THOUGHTS and FEELINGS are powerful. They are YOURS though. You and you alone have a God given free gift of grace to Think for yourself and Regulate or Control Your Feelings and Emotions. It takes time and it's a process of growing up and becoming a man or woman. He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of POWER, LOVE, AND A SOUND MIND. SELF DISCIPLINE your MIND. We have the MIND of Christ. The Spirit of God and of Christ. The Kingdom of heaven is within. God the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is all within. What does it say? The Word is near to you, in your heart, even in your mouth.

It is Finished!

Revelation 22:16 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

16 “I, Jesus, have sent Mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the Bright and Morning Star.”

Isaiah 44:6-8 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

6 “Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: I am the First, and I am the Last, and besides Me there is no God.

7 And who, as I, shall call and shall declare it, and set it in order for Me, since I appointed the ancient people? And the things that are coming and shall come, let them show unto them.

8 Fear ye not, neither be afraid. Have not I told thee from that time and have declared it? Ye are even My witnesses. Is there a God besides Me? Yea, there is no God. I know not any.”

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apathycarestostudy · 4 years

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Things Every 20+ y/o Should Start Doing (if you haven't) - unedited and unfiltered.

Twenty is a magical age. I don't know why it's not said as often as it should be, but truly, I feel like it's as just a turning point as 30 or 40 is. This is when you struggle the most to come to terms with yourself, or deliberately say you have. This is when you're becoming "conscious" as I like to think to the world — whatever the world means to you.

So, in lieu of hitting 21 a couple of months ago, I've decided to compile a list of things I believe every twenty and more year old should try. If they haven't already, of course.

1. Journaling

I've always been apprehensive of keeping a record of all my thoughts and woes as I thought that would be (a) used against me if found and/or (b) be an admission that I feel some type of way about something. Both of these concerns are damn childish and I'm glad I kinda got over it now that I'm journaling regularly, but I still hold back a little unfortunately. Well. The point of this is that 20 is an awakening that's worth journaling about, even if you have nothing going on. Write letters to your future self, to your families and friends and that one asshole you hate and the shoes you're wearing and —

Also, I always thought I didn't feel any type of way about things until I started journaling and realized I do. Yikes. You might want to make like me and face them now.

2. Learn something new everyday

Did you know that the heart of a shrimp is located in its head?

Life is unfair. There’ll be times when you feel this in all its potency. But just know this - everything can be taken from you, sans your knowledge. Overrated, a little debatable (because, mental illnesses), but it’s a neat standard to have. Plus, if you’re not well adverse in maintaining conversation, or you’re in a tight spot, spouting a random fact would help lighten the mood.

3. Pause your indignation

We’re in the age of getting mad, triggered, attacked, whatever else and that’s sad and unhealthy as all hell. What happened to being cool? To giving people the benefit of the doubt? Are we so fragile now that anything could throw us into our feelings regardless of whether it’s valid or not?

Okay, you were wronged. You are absolutely entitled to how you feel about it too. But you know what you can control? Your reaction. Your response. How you carry yourself and the way you go about it is what matters. It won’t feel as good in the beginning when you can’t bust someone up (or yourself), but you’ll be proud of yourself. You successfully refused to relinquish a piece of yourself.

4. Decide what standards you won’t breach

This goes hand-in-hand with the last point, but isn’t entirely the same. If your standard is to always respect everyone, you can’t be late when you gotta meet them because that constitutes disrespect. You don’t tolerate something, don’t engage in it. Draw the fine lines and stay within them. Whatever your code of honor is, you have to stay true to them no matter the situation you’re put in.

P.s. let it be something righteous, self and community loving, positive. This is not a plea for unreasonable stubbornness.

5. Watch something you wouldn’t normally watch

This is an interesting one. I remember as a teenager, I’d proudly declare what genres I’d never cross over to and what was beneath me, with absolutely no sound reasoning behind it. It was a baseless generalization of what’s cool and what wasn’t in my eyes. Let me tell you, some of the things I claimed wasn’t my cup of tea became my bottle of water (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

Hah.

Well, I didn’t come upon this epiphany by myself. My siblings put on a show I’d never be caught dead watching and by the end of it, then I got the epiphany. Now, whatever random video I run into on YT, any show that someone suggests that isn’t what I’m into, a documentary about something outside of my faith I’ll watch. It not only polishes your tastes, it broadens your horizons.

6. Learn to let go

7. Pick your role models wisely

This is insanely important at this age. You don’t want to realize too late that your aspirations didn’t become anything meaningful because of the people around you. Who do you look up to? What traits of theirs do you want to integrate into your being? What do they do that you’d like to do some day? If the people you look up to do not fall into any of these things, I strongly suggest you don’t invest any more time into them. I don’t mean cut off your toxic parents or anything life altering like that, I mean ignore the things that don’t fuel your goals. I’m not saying you pick someone and mimic everything they do, I mean critically choose what lessons you’ll take from them.

Be weary of the people you follow. Don’t follow blindly.

8. Rekindle an old hobby

I used to read a whole book in a day. At the most, I’d stretch it out to a week, but nothing more. It was a glorious time in my life where I just got into anime, steam rolling through seasons, then writing fanficition, wasting sleeping time to write more and post several times in one night, not to mention playing flash games but now I barely do any of that anymore. I keep buying more books and not much of it are getting read. I keep typing drafts that I never publish. I scroll through anime lists before closing the tab, fruitless.

You must have had a fun hobby when you were younger. Why not slot in a time to try it again? You may be lucky enough to reignite that passion. It’s worth a shot in the race to feeling good the right way.

9. Follow the world news

At this point, there’s no avoiding it because of the current climate. But anyways, it’s important to know what’s going on over yonder because it not only feeds your intellect, it keeps you cultured and it humbles you in a way I can’t describe. It also opens a new conversation topic for you, and as someone who wasn’t into dipping into ANY type of news, it reduces the amount of side eyes you get from people who do. It didn’t bother me before, but again, when one of my siblings kept announcing the news to us everyday, I woke up early and skimmed through google news and just waited until he rolled in the room. His face fell when I started reciting the recent headlines and I’ve never looked back since.

P.p.s I do not mean entertainment news. Indulge in that if you like it of course, but please, cast your lovely gaze on world news as well.

10. Try and make more friends

I know. I practically hiss at people who approach me. I wasn’t always like this, but circumstance and people’s audacity brutally murdered me every time I reached out. It’s not like I’m antisocial - I’m always kind and accommodating to anyone who comes my way, but I stopped putting myself out there completely.

I can’t tell you to change and start talking to people, I’m saying to give the newcomers a chance. Don’t treat everyone the same way because that’s not fair and you might lose the opportunity to have another friend. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m stilling hissing at the assholes who forgot how to act right.

P.p.p.s Real life friends. Online friends are just as precious, but it’s healthy to have joy close by as well.

And that’s about as much as I can think of at the top of my head. There are many life lessons I’ve had the privilege to learn, and many more that have yet to come, and so have you. Here’s to our collective success and happiness, our failures and sadness, and all the pointless shit in between. 20s is a ride that doesn’t have to just be full of holes and mistakes and regrets. I really wish people would stop saying it will be and decide for me.

#study motivation #life advice #studyblr #motivation #life is good #journal #life tips #what am i saying #how am i supposed to tag this #adulting #college adventures #college advice #life in your 20s #apathycarestostudy

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cat-prisun · 4 years

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not every single person with npd abused you. you don’t have the right to treat them like shit because your abusive mother apparently had npd. not every single person with bpd abused you. you don’t have the right to treat them like shit because you were in a toxic relationship with someone with bpd. and demonizing people with aspd? really. come the fuck on now. how are you going to claim you genuinely care about mentally ill people if you pull out the oldest and overused trick in the ableism book.

get off your self righteous high horse and stop excusing your toxic abusive behaviour. there is no excuse for it. you’re the one actually doing what you claim people with cluster b personality disorders are doing that makes them sooo awful. you think you’re better than them. you don’t think they deserve respect or to be treated with humanity. you think your problems are more important than theirs.

but here’s the key difference between you and them:

you are choosing to treat people badly based on your assessment of them. you are making that choice. people don’t choose to have mental illnesses, but you certainly fucking chose to dedicate yourself to bullying these people because you’ve convinced yourself they deserve it like the piece of shit you are.

#ableism tw #abuse tw #(go ahead whine in the notes about how abusive these people are)#(you’re the ones choosing to be abusive towards them)

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unchevalnoir · 4 years

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Path of the Harvest Guardian

it's hard to go to sleep after the attack on the camp. the smell of ashes still lingers in the air, drifting upon the autumnal breeze like an omen. it takes a while, perhaps longer than you're used to; maybe it's this new strength that seems to thrum through your veins. you hadn't noticed it before, only in sparse instances when your adrenaline was at its max capacity. but now you can't deny it. the blood of immortals, of divinity, lingers in your veins. there's an undeniable strength, speed, and power that you can feel within you. with that new knowledge, with that profound sense of purpose, you manage to finally drift back to sleep. you don't know when it happens, but at some point you wake up. the surroundings aren't familiar at first—they're not what you closed your eyes to, at least you don't think so. you blink your eyes a few times, adjusting them until everything comes into focus, as if the lens is being shifted. where are you? is the place familiar? describe the place and what it looks like, smells like, feels like, and what it means to you.

The sound of heavy rain drops surround River and the breeze carrying them is chilly. Refreshing. There is no thunder or lightning to rouse him back to consciousness abruptly. This storm was peaceful and comforting. The sort most wish to lull them to sleep every night. River didn't sit up in bed, guarded by walls, doors, and windows. He was out there, part of the elements, but secured by the back porch overhang. He could look out across the softened grass lawn. At the old, mighty, twisted tree that had been climbed and carved into by his family for generations. The small dock at the lake front whose waters were silvery but broken by the skies lashing out. He's beneath an overhang, but the big drops splash on surfaces. Misting his ankles, wrists, and finger tips. The feeling is refreshing and the smell of fresh cold air churning through the environment kisses River's senses like a mother's affection. He doesn't quite belong here, but there's part of this property that always understood his soul. It's his uncle and aunt's Swedish estate.

as the rain drops fall, splashing against the porch deck, ghosting against your ankles, you look at the familiar property in wonder. what brought you here? it's a question that lingers in the forefront of your mind as you look at the large, ancient and twisting tree. it's that tree that really catches your eye. within the faint rain storm, with the sound of rumbling thunder in the distant background, a flash of lightning—somehow comforting—illuminates a figure standing near the base of the tree. from where you're standing, you can barely make out a shape. but someone or something is out there, waiting. do you approach?

Yes

you move from the back porch of your aunt and uncle's estate. the rain splatters against you, droplets run down your hair, to your face, down your nose and lips. your clothes slowly become waterlogged, but it doesn't feel like it weighs you down. your barefeet dig into the wet grass and you can feel the earth pulse beneath you with each step. this, you think, feels like home. as you approach, the rain-blurred figure begins to take more shape. you have to rub your hand over your face to get the water from your eyes, but when your hand moves away, you see the figure standing at the base of the ancient tree. what do you see? is it a person, a creature? describe who or what you're seeing. are they familiar to you? how does seeing them make you feel?

After finding some sense of refuge beneath the old trees full branches, River runs a palm across his face. He knew who this was by shape alone. Even from the distance. With this water and wind battering him. River's certain that even blind he would recognize his dear cousin Henry. The man was older now, though they were close in age, just... so much time had past and those memories were all tied. Mentally, and even physically as River's guts clenched in that familiar way. Henry appeared as River last saw him. Two months before at last initiating his great plan. A family man appearance, still sharp as a tack, but no matter the fading of time Henry's eyes remained ever the same. Knowing. Wondering. Not exactly happy either. Still. Henry was like an older brother River never had, since he'd taken that role on his own side. Even then, cousin, surrogate brother, these worldly titles couldn't sum up... what Henry meant to River. What he meant to Nigel (River's real name). Soggy now and stupid as ever, but with eyes that wouldn't dare stray from Henry's, Nigel sniffed and finally said, "... I tried to write," A pause. "it's strange that's not an option for us anymore."

henry looks over at you and one of the first things you notice is how, even standing beneath the tree, with rain falling down in torrents, he looks completely dry. his hair is just the way you remember it, his face still the same. his eyes, full of wisdom but haunted with the lingering fringes of fraying happiness, stare into yours without blinking. you can count your own heartbeats before he responds. one. two. three. four. as he speaks, the words are muffled. the rain that falls before you almost seems to pick up, a downpour like a wall between you two. his words come out muffled, like he's under water or behind a thick piece of glass. you strain your ears to listen, to hear him and finally, after a few more heartbeats of time, you can hear his words. "i know you did." what does henry sound like? is it actually his voice? is it a voice you don't know? describe the sounds you hear when he speaks to you.

Keeping him waiting. River had reached a point where it was almost laughable. Yet, his focus didn't divide. He didn't question Henry's flawless appearance, but did dread the thought of missing what was being said. Once those lips had parted. It had been months. No matter how stubborn Nigel pretended to be, how strong, it was Henry's voice, his scrawled words, his messages that the son of Demeter missed most. He fought with this homesickness... daily. Though, that wasn't the only illness tied to his reliance on the other. What River said was like an apology. What Henry said back, all the son of Demeter needed to hear to survive the next month. The voice was Henry's.

henry's voice fills your ears. it's, perhaps, the most comforting and familiar thing you've experienced since you said yes and your life changed forever. his eyes stare at you and you can feel something inside of you twist; homesickness. "you're here now, though. do you know why, after all this time? have you missed me?" he folds his arms over his chest, crosses his legs at the ankles, and leans against the tree in front of something. your eyes flicker from him to the tree—something that's carved there. what is it?

"I don't..." River smiles in spite of himself, shakes and lowers his head, but it's heavy. Like this breaks his heart to say so. He'd been so... god damned resolved in his decision. The first that was ever his own to make. "I had... decided. --and all the better; you could forget me. 'n all the trouble I caused." He huffs a sad laugh through his nose and finally takes steps forward to move around Henry. "All the childhood angst and shit I brought into your life."

Sure. He could say so in a dream. That's all this was, right? If only he'd been this honest toward Henry during their last talk. ... But he couldn't put the man through it. River reaches out to touch the rough tree bark, palm pressed to hide an indentation. "I'm the Vincent to your Theo. ... I wish that could change." In time, maybe it would. He drew the hand away to reveal the V and T carved in the tree side. The family didn't pay much mind to it, assuming the initials belonged to distant relatives, but after spending a summer reading Van Gogh's biography it became a sort of inside joke for the pair. "It's not that I ever needed you, Henry, but I guess I wanted to rely on someone. 'you helped..." But what had Nigel ever offered in exchange? "and now you're standing on your own two feet, is that it?" there's no bite to henry's tone, but his eyes look a little more distant than usual. what flecks of happiness might have remained slowly beginning to fade away. "you know i would always be there, nigel. always." the words come easily, smoothly, like a current of a river flowing south. "so why did you decide to come back now? what's changed?"

River stands there, staring at the dark carving, allowing the rain to veil all of this for a spell. Like it was screaming. His smile now faded, brows tying closer together, jaw squared. It's an expression Henry would know well, but one River detested wearing. Too honest and vulnerable. The sort of expression that could cause wrinkles and get stuck far too easily. "I'm crazy." He sighs to himself, hopeful the rain would cloak the whisper, but he doubts it. Was Henry really hearing any of this? "I guess... this is my last message to you."

"why do you think you're crazy?" henry asks. he moves to stand beside you, his own hand moving to trail over the carving in the ancient family tree. his fingertip trails over the v and then the t. "i know you've found a new home, a new family." he turns to face you, staring into your eyes directly. his gaze never wavers, never falters. "is that why you think you need to say goodbye to me? tell your old life farewell so you can fully live anew?"

"... 'cause I don't know if you're really hearing this, on the other side." He admits. "And if you aren't, then... that just means that this is all for me. Not you. Again." And that frustrated Nigel. "You've forgotten, everything. We'll never speak again. I won't be a burden to you... self righteous as that sounds." And he hated it. "... You have a family now and can do what's expected. You've always been great at that." But that wasn't the truth. That wasn't how River really felt about Henry's life. "I've gotten what I asked for... but is where I left you where you want to be?" He could never ask before...

"why do you care so much about my life? this is your life now. aren't you happy?" henry folds his arms back over his chest, turning to lean back against the tree. he studies your expression, attempts to look underneath the veneer that you present to the world. he wants to see the nigel that he knows is there beneath the mask of river. "show me who you are now, nigel." he pauses. "i think i'm deserving of that, don't you agree?" his voice is cool velvet in your ear. he motions with a hand toward the land of your aunt and uncle's estate. the rain begins to stop, a soothing breeze rifles through your hair and you can feel the damp earth against the pads of your feet

Asking himself such questions was always an easier pill to swallow, but Henry's assertion makes Nigel straighten his back again and take a step from the tree. The change is sudden as the rain lifts, but the earth and surroundings remain thoroughly covered from the aftermath. River digresses and shuts both eyes. To find his center. That's right... the true Nigel, who was unashamed, would want to tell Henry about everything. His powers. His room. The stables. The food, campfire nights, and people. His brothers in arms. His sister. His mother... He wants to apologize, but just smiles instead, allowing the hope Henry instills wash over him. All the excitement tied to Olympus. It made River feel like a child again. "Where should i start?"

"you don't owe me explanations, nigel." henry sighs, "i know already." he confirms it with a nod of his head. his eyes don't look away from you, even as you straighten yourself, present yourself in a different manner—the nigel that he always knew, the one who had told him goodbye once before. "do you enjoy this newfound power you possess, nigel? do you think this is who you are meant to be?" the questions come out slow, a different tone of to his voice, a smooth, silky texture that is meant to coax the answers from you. maybe it's a voice he would use when he wanted you to tell him a secret or to reassure you that everything is okay. either way, it's something familiar, something that makes you think of your childhood and growing up; something fond. "you're very different now than you were back then. but that isn't a bad thing." a pause, a beat. "it means you're ready."

The voice puts him further at ease. River is fixated, but equally thoughtful. "That first day in till now. Yeah... I've enjoyed this power. While I had no idea what I was capable of, when I called it answered." He explained. "What I've learned. Who I've met. ... Yes, I'm certain this is who I am meant to be." Others had doubt, of his path as a son of Demeter, of their own paths, but this... it made sense. He certainly recognized how his mind and body had changed. Though his time at camp had been brief compared... for once, Nigel didn't bother with comparison in Olympus. There was a balance. Of nature and power. "..." River nods. "I am."

"good. that's all i needed to hear." he reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. it's a tentative touch, something reserved, something quiet for the both of you. "you're ready to begin your real journey." where the v and t are on the tree begins to shift. the carving spreads, expanding until there's a chasm in the trunk of the tree that is large enough for you to enter. do you go inside?

Yes

you step through the tree and you watch as it expands. you can see the roots of the world, in a way, and you feel more connected ot the earth than ever before. henry follows in after you, ushering you forward. you continue and continue, on and on, for what feels like miles. the ground beneath your bare feet always feels as if it's moving along with you, pushing you in a direction. you don't grow tired even though you know you've been walking for far too long. then, suddenly, you see what looks to be three different seeds, levitating above the ground. they're shimmering, each a different color. henry motions for you to move toward them and takes a stance opposite you, with the seeds in between. "we believe that you're ready now, nigel, son of demeter." his voice is the same as ever, but you notice that his eyes have changed. they glow faintly, a greenish tint around his irises. "your destiny is before you. you're ready to sew the seeds and harvest what comes." he waves a hand toward the seeds. to the right, a pale green seed that looks smooth to the touch almost as big as a walnut that looks like nothing more than a large marble. in the middle, a deep bruise colored seed that almost looks like an anatomically correct heart, vines woven around it. to the right, a glimmering golden seed that looks like a rose, with layers upon layers covering itself from being fully scene. "pick your future, nigel, and plant it within these grounds."

It's a strange thing... to watch Henry take a spot in the world of Olympus, but as the time past on their small journey and what he thought was his cousin turned to face him, Nigel realized this was something more. He couldn't be losing it, no, and the part of his mind that busied itself with rationalizing this world shut off once more. This place was incredible. River could picture himself staying here for a very long time. Was content with the idea. The orbs, the seeds, rose up before him and River wondered who had really been speaking with him all this time. Those eyes, green with life and light, made the son of Demeter's heart skip a beat. The importance of this moment sinking in. It was a difficult choice, but Nigel supposed part of it was personal. Layers, masks, mystery, discovery. He reached out for the golden seed and grasped it carefully. Felt the edge of each layer beneath his thumb and looked at it carefully. Then, before his feet, River dug a shallow hole in the fresh earth to bury it. Both hands met the earth as he'd practiced, come to trust, and he willed the seed to sprout.

as soon as the final layer of dirt is pressed over the seed the earth begins to rumble. slowly, piercing from the earth, are small golden brambles that begin to twist and turn in on themselves. a cage of sorts is being created, the size of a large pumpkin, before a rose bush begins to take shape. thorny branches with small, golden rosebuds rest before your eyes. henry stands there and reaches out, grabbing the two remaining seeds. there's a small flash of green light and then there's nothing in the palms of his hands. "you've come a long way, river." it's strange, hearing him say that name to you. "that is who you are now, isn't it? who you were always meant to be?"

Had this been his first day, River would have fallen back on his ass, but instead he was able to bring himself to stand and watch the seed work it's art. Gorgeous and complex... but what did this mean? When Henry spoke, River looked to him again. After a breath, he nods once more, standing taller than earlier. The name was a bit of a joke back home, something he was supposed to feel ashamed of, but it had been a start to this transformation. This new identity and story unfolding. When Henry reminded him how far he'd come, River allowed himself to agree. To take pride. "River, son of Demeter, brother of Persephone. Demigod of the harvest and cycles."

there's a brief smile on henry's face as you state your identity. there's conviction in your voice and he can feel it thrumming through him. "and just like all cycles, one must end for another to begin." behind him, the tree's trunk begins to split back open, revealing your former home's large yard. he steps toward it, backwards, still looking at you. "this is a representation of the power that you have and that i will lend. plant it, foster it, watch it grow." he puts his hands on the outside of the tree, on the bark, and looks at you. "until we meet again, river, son of demeter." before his face is out of view as the bark stitches itself back together, you wake up. it's a jolt, as if you've been shaken from a dream and, for a moment, you think you might be under attack. but there's a calm in your bones unlike the nights before. you feel something surging beneath your skin, like a vine slithering through your veins, strengthening your soul. you lay back on your pillow, eyes closed, and fall asleep within seconds. when you wake up the next morning, you feel more refreshed than you have in who knows how long. but you know one thing: whatever the future holds for you, you know that you're ready for it.

#about #musings

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shika-shiba-inu-blog · 5 years

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Antis do not protect anyone.

Antis are the main reasons why I don’t really like being involved in fandoms anymore. I’ve been struggling with mental illness for awhile because of past abuse and anxiety and it low-key pisses me off how self righteous, ignorant, and abusive antis are. I have a history of shipping problematic ships for awhile and me and others have been harassed multiple times for it to the point where we have to explain ourselves over and over again which is quite triggering in on itself. It’s gotten so bad that I myself started to believe that I was actually a pedophile and it literally tore my mental health into pieces for 2 and a half years until I gathered the confidence to go to therapy and was properly diagnosed with POCD (form of OCD) which gave me an another reason to practice exposure therapy. Antis will keep insisting that you are a bad person and continue to suicide bait and bully you off the platform because they generally think that we pro-shippers support pedophilia, murder, abusive relationships, and ect. in real life when it’s the EXACT opposite! If you aren’t a CSA victim and ship problematic shit anyway then you’re okay and perfectly fine! What you consume in fiction doesn’t align with your morals in real life.

So in short, antis rarely care about any real person’s mental health when something doesn’t align with their ideologies in fiction. Ship and let ship!

#anti anti #pro shipping #shipping discourse #its fiction so calm down

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thefingerfuckingfemalefury · 6 years

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Not even being posessed by Brother Eye is enough to stop Tim being an annoying whining, mewling dickhead apparently

God I REALLY hope we get to see Kate beat the shit out of Robo-Douche here next issue

Yes Tim, Kate killed Clayface

She did it because there were NO OTHER WAYS TO STOP HIM IN TIME TO SAVE CASSANDRA CAIN’S LIFE

Like, Tim I get it...you’d much rather that Cass had been smothered to death or brutally crushed into paste by a rampaging clay monstrosity so long as it meant you still got to claim some imaginary, smug moral high ground and keep on playing pretend that Killing is Always Wrong but people who weren’t brainwashed by a paranoid weirdo who lives in a cave and spends all his free time beating up the mentally ill view the world a bit differently than you do and it doesn’t make them bad people

Killing is not inherently morally wrong. I can think of at least a DOZEN situations in which taking a life is morally the right thing to do (Protecting yourself from a serial killer, saving your family from a home invasion, taking the life of a Nazi or other such terrorist extremist that’s a threat to god knows how many innocent people, killing a rapist to save yourself from being assaulted etc etc) and Kate having reluctantly chosen to take a supervillains life to save an innocent person is not a bad thing. Kate is not the fucking Punisher Tim...she doesn’t view lethal force as a first resort, she views it as the LAST resort to be used only when there is literally no other way whatsoever to handle a situation...which makes her a better person than your precious mentor Bruce and a better hero

I can totally understand Cass being upset by what Kate did. Cass has justifiable reasons to be upset and Kate herself knows this, Kate hates that she had to make this choice and she hates that it’s hurt Cass the way it has. Time however is just being a self righteous douchebag who thinks he’s better than everyone else and that anyone who doesn’t go along with his “No Killing Ever For Any Reason” nonsense is somehow a Complete Monster who he is Better Than

At the end of all this he’d better fucking apologise for what an asshole he’s been to her...and he also owes an apology to Bruce, Cass and Steph given that he’s put their lives in danger thanks to his ridiculous naievety in trusting that little piece of shit The General for even a second as well (As well as hiding the fact he knew that little freak was out there with access to Brother Eye tech from Bruce and the others too)

#Batwoman #Kate Kane #Batwoman is the hero Gotham REALLY needs #DC #Comics #LGBTQ comic book heroes

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jack-jupiter · 6 years

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I was twenty, the first time I hurt someone. I was coming out of the mall, clutching a bag of comicbooks, when I heard my least favorite word thrown at me, like a knive in my back. “Psh. Fruitcake.” I stopped on the sidewalk, but I didn’t dare turn around. I hate using the word “thug”. As a black man, it hurts my spirit. The word crawls, mettallic, over my skin. It gives me goosebumps. But that’s what they were. Not quite “fresh” from high school, but not yet seasoned in life. Twenty year olds, like me, but they wore the clothes of the social elite, the watchdogs of performative masculinity. They noticed that I had froze. And just when I was about to continue on and cross, the same voice cackled. “Nigga, I bet when you shit, fruit loops come out!” My ears began to ring. I became hot. In my homosexual hyperviligance, I tuned into my surroundings. There were two families sitting at nearby tables, watching, not intervening. And why would they? Again, I froze. I was crushing the binding to my new purchases. Anger feels like sleeper pods that were planted throughout your body, suddenly all coming alive, at once. I was losing control of myself. So what did I do? I disassociated. I hovered over my body, feeling nothing, dreaming, and in that dream-like haze, I watched my body turn around.... "What?” he shouted. I don’t remember how I got on top of him. In my astral state, it took me a while to register what was truly going on. But I was breaking his jaw open with the edge of fist, until finally it shattered into three pieces. I don’t know if it was shock that kept his friend at bay, but when my body had finished mashing his disfigured face into spittle, I kept his head forced on the cement with my wet hand and went to town on his ribs -- pounding, pounding, pounding -- waiting for something to break beneath me, to shatter, when the security guard pulled me off. That’s when I learned about the three pieces. He would have to get his jaw wired back together, just like my aunt had. The security guard was talking and I was compliant, but I was still dreaming, wondering if this made me as bad as my uncle, because the feeling of bones breaking beneath my knuckles felt too good. It was too satisfying. I had never harmed someone like that in my life. I was the nice child. The responsible child. The artist. My dad paid whatever was on the guard’s slip, and eerily, he seemed happy about it, like I had finally made a man out of myself. My whole childhood, I wasn’t allowed to cry. I couldn’t sing Whitney Houston songs without changing the pronouns. And when I came out, he tried to buy me a sex worker, to prove it was “just a phase”. (I was still a teenager.) So when even that proved futile, he resigned himself to the same sentence, the only damn sentence he would say if my homosexuality came up: “If you were really gay, you wouldn’t need my approval....” Just like that, I was crucified, and now here he was, jolly that I’d broken some kid’s jaw in three pieces. My father wasn’t a stranger to domestic abuse, just like my uncle. He’d struck my stepmother while she was still pregnant, and it wasn’t really that long ago. It made washing the blood off my knuckles feel weird, like I had joined some ancestral mass karma; but I quickly withdrew back to my apartment, back to dreaming. But then, a few years later, someone turned their back on me. I turned them around, forcing them to face me, then after a breath, I punched them in the mouth. I found out that though I had resigned myself to feeling unreal, my violent alter-ego deeply resented being ignored. I didn’t dislodge any teeth, to my comfort and dismay, but I was satisfied. They knew never to ignore me again. I was a rational person. It’s not like I go around pummeling strangers for nothing. I was just making things fair. It wasn’t until I was in my late twenties that I knew I had a problem. I was uncovering all my childhood trauma, and truly unearthing how deeply my childhood emotional neglect had affected my life. I had never had sex with a man. I could count how many men I’d kissed on one hand. I had slept through my own urges, because I didn’t trust anyone with my body. I found myself fantasizing about Paul, wishing to return to simpler times where my sexuality wasn’t so confusing. But the older I got, the more complex I discovered my psyche was. And what was worse, I was getting triggered everywhere I went. I was triggered when people ignored me. I was triggered when men tried to touch me. I was triggered by police brutality. I was triggered by homophobia. I was triggered by any racial discussions, and it was frightening how much rage ebbed beneath my disassociative reflex. When words would crawl over my skin, I could feel my alter-ego being aroused, waiting. So I created a room inside my mind, locked him inside, and became a “nice person” again. I nurtured my relationships, ignored my impulses, and steadied rocked boats like my life depended on it. I had grown wise among my peers for my self-control, but the more I ignored the anger writhing in that room, the more I lost my sense of self. I didn’t know that our anger provided clarity to definitively set boundaries, or that anger gave one agency to make changes in one’s life. I was too frightened to release my alter-ego. I feared what my new family of friends would think. It felt more righteous to suppress such raw, unpleasant emotions in favor of harmonizing the social equilibrium. But it did not help. The rage found its escape from behind my eyes. My gaze became hypnotic and arresting. “It’s like you’re looking into my soul,” they would say. But what I was looking for, were threats. I was projecting the very intensity that I was trying to mask. But if I wasn’t hypervigilant, someone might rouse the other me. So I pre-emptively scanned and scrutinized everyone in my aura, to protect them -- and myself -- from my own other self. When taking over my eyes didn’t work, I started getting tremors and digestive problems. It was as if there was a force inside, thrashing to get out, and sometimes I would forget the cause and wonder why. I tried to fix it with vitamins and exercise. I would soak in epsom salt tanks and get massages. But no matter what I did, everyone would still ask, “Why so tense? You’re usually so laidback.” And that was the secret to my laidback effervescence: it was devoid of polarity. My personality was a half-truth. But even with my alter-ego locked up in my body, there were still coincidences. The co-worker who took my parking spot would suddenly become ill. The restaurant with the racist waitress was forced to close down. Once, while a friend and I were walking toward a supermarket, in the dark, my shoulder collided with someone leaving. “Watch where yer goin’!” he shouted as he continued toward the parking lot. I took a deep breath and kept walking, and before my friend could make a snide comment, the man behind me had doubled over. He was vomiting. My friends began to catch on that bad things happen to people who mess with me, and honestly, I liked the rush. My shadow was protecting me, even within the confines of my mental prison. I had developed a spunky but righteously passive persona, so it gave me a newfound feeling of dignity. Until, I had an argument with my uncle, about Trump, on the internet. I let myself get upset but concluded that I should just block him. What should I expect from my white uncle? When I saw him next, I righteously apologized, but then we argued again, about the US colonizing Mexican land. I decided I just can’t talk about politics with my uncle. It would just end badly. Next time I saw him, I’d just tailor the conversation away from any landmines. But... I never saw him again. He died of a heart attack. To this day, I don’t believe I killed my uncle, but the thought frightened me beneath my bones. I wasn’t close to my uncle, but I still had regrets about our last encounter. I wished that things were different. It wasn’t until my grandma died that I really became afraid. I used to be my grandmother’s favorite, but I had put some distance between us. I was upset as an adult by how abusive and one-sided our relationship was. So I moved to Oakland and rarely visited. When she called for Thanksgiving, I didn’t call her back. I had gone to the woods, alone. Holidays brought up a lot of trauma for me, so I thought I was practicing self-care by putting myself first.... But Grandma ended up in the hospital, and later died that Christmas. I never got a chance to apologize. She was in a coma throughout her stay at the hospital. After her death, my tremors got worse. My panic attacks became more frequent, forcing me to find private corners to cry in. With my new awareness around mortality, I thought my body was failing me. I thought I was going to die. In a panic, I’d jog around my block, just to make sure my heart kept pumping. I could feel something thrashing inside of me but I’d forgotten what it was. I thought I was alone. So when I turned my jog into a brisk walk, I looked up at the sky, and I cursed God. I demanded answers. While I was walking in the city’s darkness, cursing under my breath, people would walk behind me, friends laughing and making jokes, interrupting my concentration. “Would y’all shut up,” I hissed silently. Then I heard a loud smack, and the rustling of cardboard. They had dropped their box of donuts all over the sidewalk. I kept walking. “So I’m not allowed to get angry, huh?” I seethed toward the night’s sky. “I’m just not allowed to feel anything?” Suddenly, a car’s tire bursted on the other side of the road. The pop echoed through the street like a gunshot. I flinched, then clenched my fists. It was unfair. What kind of life was this, if I’m not allowed to feel anything? I returned to my car, and I broke the handle... Now, I’d had enough. I stormed back down the street, re-entering the night. I was going to get answers. I shouted at the sky angrily. “And tell me in a way that I can understand!” I demanded. “Why is my life so terrible?” What happened next, I can’t really explain. It happened so fast, and there was no threshold for the event, just the clear blue streak of recognition. In that moment, I saw myself. The other me.... I was angry. But I was beautiful. And in that moment, for the first time in years, I felt whole. The door to the room must have come open, for within my psyche, I was confronted with the truth of who I was; and though it was wild, it was also comforting. His eyes were direct and piercing, just like mine. I knew that if I stared too long, I would be hypnotized, that eventually I would be able to see into his world, a world of vengeance and magic. Within him was held all the agency that I had denied for myself. Within him, within me, between us, was true power. In that moment, I felt real; and I realized that by denying my anger, I had not only lost myself, but I had hidden the wounds in my heart from my loved ones, and from all the men who had tried to love me. I was scared to show this new side of myself to people. I was so laidback, wise, and charming to be around. Integrating my shadow side would make me more decisive, more dominate, more mysterious and difficult to read. It meant I wouldn’t be putting up with half the bullshit I dealt with now. Ultimately, my shadow was unsettling. He disrupted all the harmony of the social membrane, and he rocked the boats that I was always so desperately trying to settle. It meant saying what I really felt, doing what I truly wanted to do, and ignoring the rest. It meant committing to myself and the continuity of my story. It meant remaining real. And beyond that, there were secrets, secrets that my shadow side knew, about the world, about people, and about magic. Do I dare? So I began to work with my shadow, but in solitude. The two of us together discussed current events, made art, and deeply harnessed the powers of the occult. As we became one, all my symptoms of illness went away, though the coincidences continued for anyone who crossed me. I felt dangerous, but oddly more whole. In truth, I had always been dangerous. The danger had just been locked in a room. Over time, I was taught how to contact and make peace with my grandma, and with my uncle. I could finally feel a semblance of peace. I hadn’t revealed my shadow to any of my friends, and definitely not to my family, but I was doing my best, and my shadow understood. Some traumas were healed. Some triggers simply went away. But I was still stuck within certain patterns that I couldn’t escape. I hadn’t hurt anyone, but I wasn’t living the life that I wanted. The dire economic realities of this world were really starting to affect me. I knew that I couldn’t reach my full potential without some kind of stability. And there was the issue of romance. I was nearly thirty, and even without some of the blockages I had cleared, love and sex still seemed elusive. I knew I wouldn’t be able to forge much farther alone. I was going to need a teacher.

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kirasderek · 6 years

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"This is so…sad. Like honestly I feel bad for this person that they feel THIS strongly about some words that a person with a decent vocabulary can easily avoid." your incredibly classist holy shit . you dont give a fuck about the working class you middle class piece of shit. your just trying to censors our word becuae you find it indecent - go get fucked !

I’m…..truly crying, I live in a single-wide trailer that is falling apart but still not paid for 😂😂😂😂 I’m a real ‘middle class piece of shit’ for sure. Saying that it’s easy to not call people ‘crazy’ or other ableist terms doesn’t make me classist. If a person hasn’t been educated on why something is bad, I don’t blame them. I haven’t known everything that I know now forever. (However it’s real nasty assuming all poor people Know Nothing….nice going.) But what YOU are doing is willfully ignoring what mentally ill people are telling you is harmful simply because you want to. That’s not fucking classist to call out, you’re more self-righteous than any person you’re objecting to here.

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mitarashiarts · 7 years

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I wanna know ur reasons for loving it so much ;w;

OFC YOU DO LOL. But okay, you opened the floodgates!! Also, I encourage people to talk to me about why they ship ZADR, let’s eXPAND ON THIS SHIT AND DISCUSS IT YO! I’m open to more reasons :DDD I may have missed somethin!

Now sit down and lemme tell ya Mita’s shitty shipping reasons for ZADR (careful, it’s pretty long).

I’ll start off with different reasons from canon and how I view it as a sort of the foundation where the pairing comes from for me v/w/v

-Zim is seen as a failure, a defect and is literally tricked into a suicide mission to an unknown part of the galaxy with hopes of him never coming back. His own people want him dead and they fuckin hate him. I mean they have good reason as Zim’s a loose fuckin’ cannon and he’s dangerous and cannot seem to understand his own flaws (HEAVY WINK WONKS AT THE IDEA THAT ZIM DOES THIS TO DEFEND HIS FEEFEES ON HIS INSECURITY LOL) Dib is just the class freak that no one listens to and people just treat him like a mentally ill loser that can’t tell fiction from reality. No one wants to associate with him, everything sucks once Dib pitches in during class and he’s just an annoyance. Both are outcasts and no one cares about them, despite the fact that they both have untapped potential to be great (Zim is actually so much more capable than he lets on, he just…gets in his own way. Dib is so much smarter than everyone else, like ridiculously smarter, his interests just aren’t socially acceptable??).

-This actually makes me sad, but it’s very telling in Mopiness of Doom (i know this ep is used a lot for zadr but listen) because they finally found someone who matches them evenly, but the moment Dib gives up on it, they both become miserable. Like to the point that Zim actually does not want to conquer earth, hiS PRIME MISSION THAT HE WAS SO HELLBENT ABOUT!! I guess he doesn’t want his conquest to be easy or smth, but he just stopped tryin. Dib actually earns his father’s respect but it’s not worth it compared to the trials he goes through fighting Zim. Could be argued that his life was pretty boring before Zim came around and who wants to have a normal ass life?? Bitch there’s an aLIEN TO FUCK WITH. Their lives are practically meaningless if they’re not battling this… somewhat worthless fight with one another. It’s not as cute when thinkin about it like that imo… like damn. Part of me feels Jhonen wanted people to see that they are living sad, codependent lives on the enemy that they hate so much and their efforts are trivial compared to, say Dib actually doing ‘real science’ and making something of himself and Zim just… has nothing at all. Sadly humorous i guess??

-Branching off the one above, they generally believe the other is a real threat. Zim fully believes that Dib is a capable enemy; an 11 yr old kid. He’s actually evenly matched with a kid (motherfuckin child piloting a planet to fight him tho). He fully sees Dib as someone to tread carefully around and treats him as a worthy opponent despite talkin mad shit about humans 24/7, he knows Dib is the smartest among all the humans. Dib sees Zim as a huge threat too cause he finds observing Zim 24/7 is mandatory to keeping him from fucking up Earth. Sure you can argue the excitement he must feel to finally be able to investigate a live alien, but he truly thinks Zim is someone that needs constant surveillance cause he could destroy earth at any time. Even tho Dib has seen some of Zim’s plots as really stupid, he still knows Zim can be horribly dangerous and treats him as such.

-I guess this summarizes the top two but they validate one another. Zim validates Dib’s suspicions of paranormal anomalies (Which is his life’s passion??? Like damn???), he validates Dib’s intelligence, his worth to society even if it seems like a useless cause (cause no one fuckin’ cares, why does Dib continue anyways?? Self-righteous as Dib can be he IS trying to keep mankind safe despite them being dicks to him). Dib validates Zim’s existence. And I mean this as in, he validates him as what he SEES himself as; an invader. His own people don’t see him as one, his PAK isn’t issued as one anymore, but he believes himself to be an invader, and so does Dib. Dib pays attention to him, he gives him the recognition he feels he deserves. A nemesis that he can count on to always be there to duke it out with him. SuRE THEY FUCKIN HATE EACH OTHER BUT SERIOUSLY MAN.

-They work well together. This could be said for MANY rivals as they’re often more alike than they’d like to admit. Nothin too different for ZADR cause when they do work together, shit gets done. They hate to admit this kind of thing and they aren’t fans of working with one another, but they do it anyways cause they know the other is capable. When Dib needs help, he will go to Zim if he feels it’s necessary and vice versa. Could argue that they only know each other with working labs or other people are too stupid, but idk, they know the other has the potential to help. Who knows, I like thinking they see the other as somewhat of a frenemy even tho they’d never admit it.

-More of a Dib thing, but that boy is obsessive. He is constantly on Zim’s ass every time. Mentioned before, but he watches him all the time. I mean the comic starts out where Dib literally remained glued to his chair wondering why Zim never left his house, and Zim watched Dib too.They’re stuck on one another, but this is way more of a Dib thing cause he goes out of his fuckin’ way. There’s also the fact that Dib literally goes to Zim’s house to check on him when he hasn’t been around much. He gets genuinely curious where Zim is and finds it odd if he’s not around to be do his usual bullshit.

I guess that’s like from what I gather from the show as to where the foundation for it comes from. I like to analyze shit a lot so I try to make sense of the pairings I ship. If I can’t see the dynamic work, I probably wouldn’t ship it very hard. So… idk, i see those reasons as enough for the pairing, in my eyes, to work gradually. Some other reasons that stem more from headcanons:

-I like the idea that as Dib gets older he calms the fuck down. Like not as violent or willing to cut Zim up into pieces. He just more or so acknowledges that Zim’s a weird idiot that’s just there to shake up the day sometimes. I really love the idea of him still entertaining the idea of fighting Zim but not seeing him as much of a threat later on? Like he tries to move on but zim is a constant in his life. Even if he tries to stop completely, he can;t stay away for too long. I enjoy them basically being too invested in one another to just give up.

-Them knowing one another so well that they just… see through the other all the time. I feel this is a lil more ooc as Zim doesn’t feel the need to actually research or study Dib in the same way that Dib does to him. Like … just years and years of fighting and bickering they become so familiar with it that it’s almost endearing. That kind of bond that’s still settled on hatred but mutual understanding of the other just fucks me up?? Also all their insults becoming endearing terms in a way??

-HEIGHT. Bonus because Zim’s race bases so much importance on height. Like height differences is a huuuuge thing for me >w>;;;; I think that just speaks for itself honestly. I like Zim developing a crush on Dib specifically for his height as first like b o y .

-Human/Alien. IM JUST. I LOVE HUMAN/NONHUMAN SHIT SO MUCH?? That potential of exploring the other’s body, culture, etc?? Always fun. Culture shock and generally not understand customs of another’s race/species is always so fun to me. Like wow, I love how Zim is confused 90 percent of the time over human customs.

I could probably add more shit. I’D LOVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS MORE WITH PEOPLE???

#apathetic--narcissist #zadr #iz #invader zim #TALK ZADR TO ME #IM LONELY #shipping shit #LONNNGGG POST #asks #thanks for the question vwv

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nightcoremoon · 6 years

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I typically don't eat very much meat on a day to day basis. usually I just eat granola, pasta, rice and beans, peanut butter and nacho cheese doritos, tomato and vegetable soup, and lots and lots of fruit. sometimes I'll have grilled cheese, eggs, and I do drink milk on a daily basis. maybe once a week I'll eat something with chicken or beef in it, but the meat I eat the most is tuna. when I'm in financial dire straights I'll eat ramen since it's a quarter each. but I have to feed myself on a very low budget, and oftentimes that calls for including meat, since my body can't digest beans well, and peanut butter can't be the primary source of protein in your life, and nuts trigger some sensory issues, and I think soy is really bad for you, and quinoa is expensive as fuck because of the flying it in and the slave labor because capitalism is evil. regardless, the point is, I don't eat that many meat and animal products in the long run. I don't subsist entirely on bacon cheeseburgers. I don't live breathe and eat an entire cow at a time. I eat just enough to keep me alive. I don't appreciate being told I'm a bad person for this.

I don't appreciate assholes who bully people on the internet for being in the same position as me. I don't appreciate self righteous pieces of fucking garbage who send waves and waves of anon hate to people who don't just let them be dicks in peace. I especially loathe the kind of person who has more respect for literal pigs than for actual human beings, comparing the lives of black, jewish, muslim, gay, trans, poor, disabled, mentally ill, autistic, and culinarily minded individuals to animals. do you realize how fucked that is? to care more about stupid fucking LIVESTOCK than about your fellow man and to let it govern your every waking moment? it's bullshit and I won't stand for it. I'm a good person. My mind doesn't let me believe it most times but I know in my heart that I always have the best interests of all humanity at the front of my mind. I respect every single human life who is not literally evil, a genocidal fascist, wants to kill me or anyone else based on something as trivial as our demographics. I was with a girl two nights ago and I was just a few steps away from having sex with somebody for the first time in my entire life which is something that the dark bits in the back of my mind have tried endlessly and tirelessly to accomplish, but she said she didn't want to do that so I didn't, and it was one of the easiest decisions I have ever made in my entire life, no matter how much I actually wanted to do it, no matter how much the intrusive thoughts told me to do it anyway. I didn't. Because I know that that's just a part of my mental illness, because I know it isn't really me saying or wanting or attempting the doing of those things, and the real me is one of the nicest people in the fucking world. So many other people tell me that I am but I disagree with them so often. I've had to work so hard to get to a point where I don't hate myself, where I can actually look at my face in the mirror and hear myself sing to the songs I love and take care of myself, things I never did in the past.

Granted, part of that has a little to do with my transition, but it's still relevant. I'm there, or as close to there as I've ever been. I still slip here and there, I still don't have a clean room, I still don't bathe as often as I need to, I still have a whole hell of a lot of sleeping problems, I still sometimes go a day without eating any food. Yesterday I passed out at work because I hadn't eaten any *real* food in a couple of days. Food is something that I struggle with, but it's the one thing that I've never lost interest in for a future career for my entire life. Cooking is very special to me and it's something that I enjoy doing when literally everything else I can do- video games, youtube, netflix, anime, books, music, I even enjoy cleaning somewhat- brings me zero joy, tastes like mashed potatoes, isn't even doable at my lowest. And I cook the most comfortably with meat, eggs, dairy, and all the things that vegans would literally crucify me for if they saw me touching it. And I refuse to feel any amount of guilt for that.

My life is worth more than that of an animal that is bred specifically for being eaten and nothing else. My life is worth more than any animal that exists. My life is worth more than a dozen, than two dozen, than one hundred cows or chickens or pigs or goats or sheep or any other edible animal. My life is worth more than the collective lives of all the animals that I already have, am, and will ever eat. And the same goes for any other human being alive on this planet who is not a literal nazi. Biblically, man was given full dominion over animals. Scientifically, man has evolved to be at the top of the food chain, but second only to wolves, bears, boars, big cats, birds of prey, giant lizards, and any other kind of animal that can, will, and has eaten humans. Either way, if predatory or omnivorous animals are allowed to eat other animals, we are too.

I refuse to bully vegans. I refuse to seek them out and send anon hate mail. I refuse to bring myself down to the level of the disgusting and hateful militant ones who say the shit that just boils my blood over. I actually have friends who are vegans. My sister is a self ID'd vegetarian who doesn't eat most animal products so she's kind of one in everything but name. I support their lifestyle choices and am not a dickhead to them anymore. And I will defend to the death their choice to reject societal norms and try in whatever small way they can to fight against animal cruelty. I try to eat only from reputable sources that don't make it as inhumane as is physically possible. The key word there is try. Some places don't have any information on how or where they get their meat from. But even if it is from someplace that sucks ass because of capitalism, I'd like to break down capitalism and rebuild it from the ground up, hopefully in a way that keeps unfair treatment from negatively affecting any living creature aside from maybe bugs because the moment vegans start chanting #ANT LIVES MATTER, I will begin subsisting entirely on meat out of pure spite.

Because spite runs me. Every time I see some militant vegans being a dickhead, I go and eat meat. I'm petty like that. It tastes amazing and it costs so much less than organic quinoa does. I won't feel bad for it. You can't make me feel bad for it. You won't. And I'll speak up if you try to make anyone else feel bad for it because some other people haven't developed the tools necessary to not internalize anon hate. The reason for this is that I love humans more than you love animals. And that makes me a better person than you ever will be. So go ahead and enjoy your cold potatoes smeared in ketchup. I want you to eat whatever you want. But if you don't in return respect the dietary choices or sometimes forced restrictions of us 'carnists' as you so eloquently put it... I sincerely hope that you choke on them. Go fuck yourselves, asshole militant vegans who tell people to kill themselves just because they eat some meat. You're a bunch of bags of dicks, so go eat one.

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emmahcodee · 7 years

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In 2010, one of my closest friends handed me a CD that he burned for me back when burning CDs was still a thing. "This guy's music is devastating. I think you'll dig it,” he said. It was Perfume Genius's first album Learning that he recorded in his mom's house in Everett, Washington. I tossed it in the front seat of my '00 Mazda and forgot about it until a few weeks later. I'd had a particularly bad fight with my then-boyfriend and purchased a pack of cigarettes with the intention of "going for a drive." I was 22, freshly graduated from university, and had nothing but time for dramatic gestures.

I put the CD in and drove off at twilight, meandering down the 202 just as the sky turned purple and the sun disappeared behind the trees of southern Pennsylvania. Even before I knew about the abuse and harassment Hadreas endured or about his struggle with addiction, I heard his words with a certainty that this guy had seen some shit. "No one will hear all your crying till you take your last breath." Though his first album is the most musically unsophisticated, the visceral rawness of Hadreas' lyrics hit you over the head. It’s composed of tiny fragmented details like a night you only remember in exquisitely flawed pieces; cassette tapes of Joy Division from a teacher, a pressed flower in a letter, a friend without a family. The album served as a shield for me. Listening to him self reflexively lay all of his trauma bare seemed - maybe the way it could only to a mentally ill early twenty-something - like an act of heroism.

No Shape is full of righteous intensity. As Jia Tolentino put it, "a slightly lurid type of happiness." It’s a contagious battle cry, a love letter, a melodious self actualization that both sparkles and creates a lump in my throat.

Though the material has changed, his resolve hasn’t. It’s hot to the touch, all brimming with possibility and warmth and quiet uncertainty. The same sad and gentle optimism that takes you in on Learning is now naked and unafraid on No Shape. It’s reassurance. The muffled, "It's okay" repeated at the end of Gay Angels, the acceptance of unabashed fragility, a hand pressing quickly on your shoulder.

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bisexual-books · 7 years

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More thoughts on King’s Cage....

In no particular order now that I’ve finished the audiobook:

Maven is really an excellent example of the murderous bi trope, the sexually/romantically predatory bi trope, and the lying bi trope all rolled into one. It's one thing to write a bisexual villain, its another thing to do so by literally picking all our worst tropes and shoving them into one person. Why don’t we ever get the kind of bi villain that is a blundering strongman or a isolated loner or the self-righteous ‘I’m the real hero here’ type? Nope, we get yet another scheming skinny effeminate white boy who lies all the time, kills people for power, and is freaky-deaky obsessively in love with the main character. Seriously. *snoooooze*

Since its also #bihealthmonth, this seems like a good time to note that bi people are WAY more likely to the ones who are BEING stalked and emotionally abused. Just think about that next time you see a piece of media where the bi character is an obsessive stalkery weirdo who can’t take no for an answer. We’re depicted in media SO MUCH more often as the perpetrators when we’re more likely to be the victims.

Does anyone else feel like the late-game revelation of the relationship between Evangeline and Elane is a weird gay bribe? Its like Aveyard is trying to offset the 1) dead queer trope with poor Thomas and 2) the fact that Maven is basically bi tropes bingo. I feel like YA has gotten into this weird habit of having really shitty queer rep in dystopian books where characters are tropes, cliches run rampant, and the LGBTQ people die...... then sticking in one living and semi-happy gay couple in towards the end like “sorry we played out a bunch of tired homophobic/transphobic/biphobic trash at you, take this token white gender conforming and conventionally attractive cis gay or lesbian couple that I added somewhere in the back 50% so to not look like a big phobe as payment” *eyeroll*

This isn’t really the focus of this blog, but as a person with PTSD, I find her treatment of it in this book to be questionable at best. When you have PTSD, you can’t cure it with love. In this series, Mare’s triggers either apply to everyone but Cal. He can touch her wrists and soothe her nightmares. In the real world, the people you love are not exempt from your triggers and can’t cure your symptoms with cuddles. I really hate this romanticization of mental illness shit. PTSD is really hard on families and loved ones and stuff like this just does NOT help.

That all said, I’m totally going to read the last book in the series because I like the political intrigue. And I’ve already invested thee books in so I want to know how it ends. Which just means that if things get more fucked up in the last book, I will continue to rant about it

- Sarah

#red queen #kings cage #victoria aveyard #ya books #queer books #bisexual characters #bi tropes #ptsd #mental health #bihealthmonth

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bonelessalienation · 7 years

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i love that you pretend to be so happy and self-righteous when its clear you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. were you not the same girl who actively used to sit and mock the way someone’s body looked while laughing? or not the same girl who mocked their friend’s mental illness and laughed at the fact they identified as trans. of course not, you’re innocent, and you didn’t deserve me realising you’re a piece of shit. i forgot :)

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somedaypast-thesunset · 6 years

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i want to practice just like going through the anger of his message without an actual response because like fuck him?

“i called you to say i was going to he wedding and caring for you and going to rehab potentially and you said that ou didnt know what to say because its not what you want to do”

false. and this is just crammed into a giant paragraph of other bullshit. man, you called me to tell me what you were going to do. and you have literally never in your life understood what it means to respect another person’s feelings or wishes outside of like a guest in your house for one night. again it was never about him going to rehab. it was the fact that its told to me like a slap in the face. its not like im involved in anyway its just im doing this see you later, maybe?

“and then you knowingly or not manipulate the situation by saying youre not doing the surgery because youre not having it your way just like you did a week ago when you realized my vision for the property is not the same as yours”

man. why is it that i can say something clear as fucking day, repeat it 400 times and this person will tell me straight faced that thats not what i did, thats not how i feel and i must feel this way and if i dont then im lieing to myself.

when i am confronted with a person aggressively asking me vague questions in regards to what was once a positive fucking discussion as a natural born human being it is within my capacity to react with really high suspicion as to how much this person actually respects me. because its not the act of changing your mind - you can change your mind a thousand times. but you can also say ‘man i was thinking about this and this and i was wondering about this and you were saying this’ instead of ‘how many x for this how much for this’ like wow. and then to turn around and use my reaction as a basis of just “not getting my way”? you are repeatedly at every fucking turn demonstrating a huge disrespect for my feelings and you think im a fucking slave that should have zero opinion or feeling on anything you do but continue to merrily go along with what you see for the future.

“i need help and thinking of other people first has prevented me from getting help for years because ‘you guys’ always do this. theres always something that im always ‘ruining’ if im not ‘there’“

literally for decades youve treated people consistently like fucking shit. you give false promises you masquerade in being sick. you refuse at any singular pointt o see any true priviledge you actually have and why that means you can never understand how these people felt like when you left them 200$ at xmas in a crackhouse and went on a family vacation. you ruined xmas bro. you fucking ruined it and you thought you did a good fucking deed. a good deed wouldve been being their family. period. and you didnt want to do that an thats okay but to act like you should be praised for what you did do when it barely made a dent? fuck you you self righteous prick.

“this is what happens at the property. i go to work everyday to pay for you all to eat and for the upgraes and equipment. you guys wake up at your leisure and do exactly as much work as you feel is necessary and then fuck off for the rest of the day when i come home and have to solve personal problems like you and jame or you and aaron”

omg. this is the exact paragraph that defines exactly why im officially out. like first of all you are of zero motherfucking help to all of the above people including myself to maintain a lifestyle we lived here that bruoght us nothing because you think some deep drive will make it better even though your ass is going to rehab. you have zero provisions for any of these people and all they can do is sincerely invest their time energy and money into preparing themselves and their belief in what can happen. to think this crazy man could provide more than two meals is literally foolish like you arent ready to survive if you think youre surviving off of this guy. and like i already know this pretty well. in no way does he understand that i lived in survival mode with a crazy person who claimed to be doing good for my life. i did that already. its a completely different ball game. i dont even believe in you. i believe in me.

“the fact that you feel entitled to a payout because you did two weeks of research demontrates that you have no idea the investment i am putting in”

excuse me, what? by me asking for fucking dignity and respect when you change your fucking plans that involve MY FUTURE that YOU PUT ME WITHIN i’m doing this on the basis of being entitled to a fucking payout? respect? the fact that you think this is “two weeks of research” demonstrates that you literally would throw people out on their ass because you ~owned the property and they didnt you know “invest enough”. and at no point will it be told to you how much you need to invest to be secure. at no point. so he will ask for free labour which to him is not free because he feeds you !!! right because that worked for the slaves.

“i understand that this will be the situation as i laid it out because ive been down this road before a few times and i’m not laying it out to put anyone down; its just how it goes and i know for a fact it will piss me off and cripple me because i am already extremely weak”

man. who the fuck are you? you want people to support you getting help and doing positive things and respect you for being a homeless shelter but literally shit on and disrespect and belittle and degrade the people you want to be with you? whyyyyyyyyyy in the fuck would i ever want to speak to a person who believes i’m lazy and lives off of him and causes problems. why the fuck would i do that. oh but like hes not putting me down its just “how it goes”. and hes telling me this like im going to be like “oh okay i didnt realize ‘thats how it goes’ sorry”. you are in no motherfucking way a savior to any single person nor will you ever be. to truly help another person in the ways you believe you want to help people you have to be born with a trait that makes you preconceived to these ways or you have to work every day at it to become like that and you have not even begun to put in the work it woul take to reach such a high standard of care and altruism. again, fuck you.

“that being said, it doesnt change my desire but i must find a way to prepare myself to see if is something i can handle because if its not youre out to weeks of research and get to go back on welfare but me, i own 17k have to give the boot to my friends and face god knows what other consequences will come from an ill fated venture like this”

just.

do you know how hard it is for me to not just give in to the worst of my feelings and be like can u just go fucking die already. like you are so much of my mother that the only way you will find peace is to just be dead.you are delusional and fucked up and in so fucking deep i dont think theres a way out for you because there is like next to no moments of true clarity.

‘youre out to two weeks of research and get to go back on welfare’

omg. am i real human being? do you think i am like a fucking search engine that aggregated a bunch of results for you and just displayed information with zero fucking care as to what was happening at all? do you in no way think that if you want me in ANY FUTURE CAPACITY to even SEE this opportunity that i have to manage my current life in a specific way? do you not KNOW this? if you dont know this just STOP. build a fucking cabin in the woods and stay the fuck away from people you ignorant piece of shit.

“it pisses me off that im always me with the same attitude when i try to do something like these people that are literally investing the most minimal part of their day into the venture act like im not putting my nuts on the line for someone else”

omg. you legitimately dont see other people as human beings like this all i can form from this. when i was a child, i saw my mother disappointed that she didnt have this bottle of wine she thought she had and she was like mock disappointed about it but i didnt get it and as a child i was just like.. i felt really bad for my mom. like she didnt have this thing she wanted and expected and i wanted at that moment to give it to her if i could and i just kept doing this to an extreme in my life where like i constantly consider another persons feelings so much that i feel true guilt to act in any malicious or shitty way because i feel like i can really empathize with their moments if i tried to so why is it okay for me to act in such a way. i want to be peaceful and understanding.

so to me i am literally fucking appalled that he cannot comprehend the “investment” one makes with their entire actual fucking livelihood but furthermore my “two weeks of research” led him to his own opportunity. without my “two weeks of research” hed just be a jackass going to rehab. in fact as i began to realize how little he was invested mentally and was just throwing money at a piece of land, i became very scared for him and myself and the concept of this idea because i realized no one knew what to do, no one was taking the initiative to actually look it up and this person is investng 17k. and at no point did they think of a building plan or project or outline of a business or anything, they looked up no regulations and just went on like the dreams of hearsay. i couldnt believe it. i began my journal of information out of pure anxiety and fear that this person wasnt actually going to do any of these things and when it came down to it we would be fucked because the landowner has no idea what he can actually do on his own fucking land. and this is very stressful. is it 17k stressful? i dont know. maybe. maybe not. but it is certainly a large investment of my time and a new creation of anxiety, a reason to distrust whats happening - a reason to no longer trust in what he was saying about this. he just wanted to do this and this the same way he wanted to do all the dumb ass things he did before.

“if i had of known this i would have spent 2 weeks looking shit up’ like fuck right off. im sitting here trying to figure out a way to give people a free fucking place to come and better themselves and i have to eat shit when i express concern for myself”

bro. come into the reality ive lived for 2 months. this all started all of it period started because i offered to help you save money. you did not want this. i suggested buying land to offer small houses of some sort for people to stay to capitalize on both his handyman skills and his hosting skills. then i looked up SEVERAL HUNDRED PROPERTIES and like extremely sorted through these for the best possible deals for the most amount of land with healthy landscape. PEOPLE ARE PAID TO DO THIS JOB. LIKE HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS OVER MONTHS. and i did this job for you for free and presented not just like 10 lots. i presented another 30 lots afterwards. i learned the fucking landscape of pei. i learned about trees and buying land and municipalities. i made maps and scales and put like all of my brain power into this its like saying because you went tothe store and bought the materials, you own whatever the fuck i built from it. and fine maybe you do. maybe in this capitalistic world you do. but omg why do you have to degrade the actual work i did which did not include me getting drunk in the middle of the woods at any point. like you struggled to figure out the meaning of a pit test when this is something i wouldve learned in a day. and i thought like this person knows already they id it before they already have this basic understanding all they need is like some updated info but nope. nope. youre not sitting there trying to figure it out. im sitting here trying to figure it out because no matter how much fucking money you throw at this it will not work without actual knowledge so fuck you man. fuck you. if i had of known you were such a piece of shit, if i had of known you would belittle and degrade any work and care investment i put into this which other people are literally fucking paid for - i wouldnt have spent any time on it at all. youd still be sitting there sobbing about your dead ex and the times you were strung out on k. fuck you bro. fuck you.

“dont talk to me about relationships dont hold this surgery over my head whenever you dont get your way. thats what i dont want to be part of because i have my own issues and if you dont want the care then ill spend my time caring for myself”

iterally all of your time is looking out for and caring for yourself and any time taken away from that time is a huge fucking deal. like this person believes that just like hanging out with someone is an investment of his time because his time is very valuable. and if you dont appreciate that he took the time to even grace you with his presence when his time is so damn valuable then fuck you. and repeatedly hes said on multiple occasions for varying reasons “i dont want to be apart of this” and “this” is changed to suit whatever his need is for that time. so now he didnt say “this” like he never wanted me or the relationship its that he doesnt want “the drama”. no. no. you didnt and have not wanted the relationship and it has held you back and gave you all these issues you never wanted. period. this is what you said. period.

“im just so fucing exhausted i wasted 45 minutes typing out bullshit that started because i want to go to rehab and that doesnt jive with your insecurity”

.............. first of all on the basis of this entire fucing discussion you cannot in any fucking way ask me to consider the amount of time you spent on fucking anything at all. anything. it means absolutely nothing at all. it means nothing to what i feel. my feelings are more important. whether you invested time you didnt want to or not is of no motherfucking concern to me so fuck you you hypocritical asshole.

this all started because youre an asshole. youve always been an asshole and you literally cannot rehabilitate the fact youre an asshole. weed is not making you a piece of shit. its really truly not. if it is its like the first case in the entire world of it doing such things to someone because omg.

“not to mention i had to think about this shit for 6 hours yesterday”

no one caressssssssssssss. omg. you can sit and think about it for two weeks straight my friend. it means LITERALLY FUCKING NOTHING BY YOUR OWN DEFINITION.

“you know the only people that give me grief when i try to get help are the people who cant stand on their own legs

im sorry.

excuse me? in what capacity do you believe you have positively affected the direction of my life either mentally or financially or physically? you getting help affects me in zero fucking ways to the point that its not even goingt o make my relationship better with you because i really believe you cannot rehab an asshole. but it sincerely has zero affect on my financial or physical well being. what do you think ive been doing? like am i a zombie? im fucking depressed, not dead. this person has never paid my rent. he paid my phone bill as a christmas gift one year. he has really never actually bought me groceries, his mother has three times maybe.

you know, i have no anxiety. well no overwhelming anxiety and im not spiraling. heres a real true fact of life: if he didnt exist, i wouldnt have considered the surgery at all. in my life without him i wouldnt have had an opportunity to possibly have some kind of care (which i love now has an end date that has nothing to do with my recovery) i wouldnt even have a drive home. so i wouldnt do it. and id be a little pissed for awhile - mostly at my parents more than anything and then just get over it because why dwell so hard on something not that important anyways.

ive been told by doctors its an option. its not like a recommendation - well it is, but its not like oh wow you really have to get this or else. i think people get really uppity about doctors and medical things for no reason and i get that they exist for a quality of life but i just dont think my life is so bad that i have to do this to myself right now.

and ive gotten - well what else are you doing now? whats different? and its true. fair enough. mark in the pro column. but that doesnt outweigh it. just because theres nothing else im doing doesnt mean i shoul do something i think is not a true importance to my life. like if i can have one month of physical care for a 3 inch incision with stitches - why cant i have one month of care for 15 years of severe depression? like all these doctors said im severely depressed, i need help, i need a support system, i need real resources they cant necessarily provide and everyons like wow i dont have the time or space to help you im sorry its too much for me and maybe you wont get better and i cant see you getting better so i cant feel good about how much time i migh have to spend on this.

but an incision. for a cyst. and a friend will take a week off work and spend everyday by my side. he will leave work to care for me, make me meals everyday, run my errands, help me out. and so my sick twisted mind in some ways in some moments looked forward to a real surgery. ike for a brief period of time i would get the care i needed from people but im too incapicitated to actually leverage any of the care i receive. like people would let me stay at their house for x amount of time and its just like man ive been nearly homeless and you acted like im diseased. its a fucking mockery to act like this cyst makes me deserve any more care than i already had. and i think thats why i really think deep down none of these people will do any of these things. i am sick. i am already sick. like really badly. and its all just like looking in from the outside bullshit. so why does this change now? why should i believe it changes?

and after all of this another nagging small thought is like okay so i finally get some kind of care and help and then it will all stop so he can go get better care and help in his priviledge an its like wow why bother. like well ur all healed now ur on ur own byeeee. i am tired of feeling bad for feeling bad. this is a manipulation. this is the true manipulation. it is using “getting help” and “going to rehab” as an excuse to compleely and utterly ignore anything i have to say about fucking anything at all. and hes trying to convince me of this that im the bad person and im not the bad person because ive never been against rehab.

i said “i dont know what you want me to say” instead of “so what about everything weve been talking about for the past two weeks what about the future what about buying land” after givng him all of this space to tell me on his own. what do you want me to say? its happening _ again _. good luck. hope it works out for you this time. i no longer give a fuck. i knew immediately when he sai h was going to rehab that all of the plans were up in the air again. again. again. again. like four hundredth time in a row and its like man how many fucking times o you want me to follow your bullshit because rehab is as genuine as your desire to be a better person and help all these people but youre fucking ruining people because you cant stay the fuck away. how many times am i required to give unconditional love without it actually fucking returned to me or to have what is returned be nothing but negativity towards my life?

you have no idea that the actions of other people really define how you will feel about them in your moments of weakness and need. you can see it but you dont know it. you dont know that it makes the difference of treating someone with actual kindness and respect because theyre a fucking human being not because “well they dont have that”. you havent graduated from giving someone something because you feel bad that they dont have it. you give them respect not because other people didnt vgive them respect but because this person deserved fucking respect all along. if you do it for the first reason its really all for your ego. you think youre doing something better than the next person. yuo know, “well iiiii woulnt be like that” - yeah you would, just in another circumstance.

i no longer regularly deal with outwardly shitty people. it was really important to me to find people who were caring in some respect but im learning even among those who are caring are abusers. theyre everywhere and its naive to think theyre not because thats how you fall victim. you just dont think its happening because it cant happen because theyre caring.

what i see myself truthfully terribly doing is nothing. although i clearly have a response for him, i dont. im just angry and i dont see how expressing any of my anger towards him will bring any resolution to any issue. and im not “just angry” like im just airing some grief but im angry. im very angry. and its no longer worth it. what can i reply? what could i possibly reply? “oh god youre so right im so sorry of course everything i did is nothing compared to you im sorry for being so selfish thank you sooo much for helping me” because it looks like the only available option now. and im not taking that option. i coul fight. argue all my points. tell him he was wrong. but why? but i think i may do so much nothing that i will just remain passive and hurt. semi forced into this scenario, upset and depressed. and i can see myself trying to accept help before stopping a few days into it.

i wish i could eternal sunshine him. i really do.

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