#AND MY MOM DIDN'T CHECK MY COMMUNICATIONS GRADE

[koka-mi]

IT'S THE WEEKEND LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[violenteconomics]

as a prank, ace and epel start referring to their upperclassmen as members of their family rather than by name — when they're not actually talking to their upperclassmen, of course — just to see how long it will take them to notice. and after a while, the other freshmen start doing it, too.

ace is the first one to come up with this idea. he think it's a harmless little thing, a prank that'll cause plenty of mayhem but won't get him in any serious trouble. so he starts referring to cater and trey as his dad and mom respectively, and riddle as his uptight, no-nonsense older brother.

("one time i saw my brother try to put one of mom's tart into like a ziplock bag to save it for later, and when he took it out like two days afterwards, it fell apart immediately and he started bawling, ha ha! my dad got the whole thing on camera and shared it with me — i can show you if you want.")

he ropes epel in on the plan. epel is a little more hesitant, but seeing this as a way to get back at vil, even in a small way, he agrees to it. vil is now "ma" and rook is now "pa". people do start to wonder why he still uses he/him pronouns to refer to his supposed mother, but they decide not to question it too much.

("a few months ago, my pa told me a story about how one time my ma was trying to comb his hair, only for his comb to get stuck. so he got another comb to get the first one out, and that ended up getting stuck, too. five combs later, and peepaw had to rush him to the barber for an emergency haircut. it was pretty funny, but now i'm left wondering how pa even knew that story... hold on, i need to check my bathroom mirror for cameras, excuse me.")

surprisingly, deuce catches on pretty quickly, and he starts thinking maybe it's a new dorm policy. he doesn't know why, or why nobody else seems to be doing it, but ace seems pretty sure of himself, so he starts doing it, too, if a bit awkwardly.

("my brother always gets on my case for my bad grades. it's a little frustrating, but he only does it because he cares. my dad tutors me whenever he can, but he's not very good at studying, either. but whenever i do get good grades on my report card, my mom makes me egg tarts!")

yuu starts after they ask ace about it, and thinking it's a good prank, they decide to join in on a little mischief. so they start referring to all the teachers as their "dad". it makes people really confused, because they assume they only have one dad, two at most, but "dad" seems to change personalities every single time they talk about him.

("i was helping my dad do paperwork the other day, except we didn't get anything done and spent the entire evening playing solitaire and making dog puns."

"i was filling my dad's basketballs for him for his next game, whilst simultaneously helping him rework his pick-up lines that he's going to use on rsa's 'hot librarian' — his words, not mine. it was... a weird experience."

"i was feeding my dad's cat a couple of days ago, but i guess i fed him too much, because he's just a ball with limbs now. it's fine, though — it's not like my dad actually goes anywhere. too old for that, y'know?")

ortho is up next. idia's already ortho's brother, so he can't really do anything with that, but he really wants in on the average teenage experience of pranking your peers. so he starts referring to literally every upperclassmen he knows as his "brother". this is when everyone starts to realize that something's wrong, because some of things ortho says can not apply to idia in any reality.

("my brother is so talented! he's so good at talking to people, and making them sign contracts with him, and convincing them to invest in his restaurant... gosh, i wish i could be as good at communicating as him!")

jack is, unsurprisingly, very unamused when he figures out what the others are doing, but he doesn't try to stop them. but after a few weeks of exposure, and jack starts unconsciously doing it, too, which the others don't point out to him because they think it's absolutely hilarious.

("my brother didn't show up to morning practice, again, so my other brother and i went lookin' for him, and we ended up findin' him in a tree. obviously, my brother and i can't climb as well as my eldest bro can, so my brother just... threw a spelldrive disk at him. to get him out of the tree. and then we had to rush him to the infirmary because now he had a concussion. i don't... i don't know why he thought that would work.")

sebek is the last hold-over. not only is he unamused by this prank — and frankly very aghast when he realizes that jack has also been infected by it — but he's also really repressed and will do literally whatever it takes to not sully his image in the eyes of diasomnia. of course, with enough wear and tear, this doesn't last very long.

("ugh. my brother fell asleep on the road AGAIN! i swear, so many people have tripped over him, i'll be surprised if he hasn't broken any ribs yet.")

ace and epel think all of this is extremely funny, so they all keep trucking along with it with nobody noticing for a couple of weeks. it's all fine and dandy until the first-years are out on the town during the weekend, and deuce gets involved in a really bad carriage crash.

at the hospital, deuce starts deliriously asking for his older brother to take him home. but when the receptionist checks his familial records, they're really confused because deuce never even had a brother.

unfortunately, ace knows exactly who deuce is talking about, and awkwardly spends the next 30 minutes trying to get a hold of riddle over the phone.

the awkwardness doesn't end as riddle actually gets to the hospital, and the doctor smiles and says, "you must be mr spade's big brother."

[beemovieerotica]

hey can you tell me how you got tested for OCD and/or started to think you had it?

yeeeess so it was literally 2018 when i was like "hm maybe i have OCD" to my therapist (who was not specialized in this) and she did not disagree with me and everything kind of clicked in that session between us when we both simultaneously realized a lot of my behaviors could be explained that way.

the hardest thing was that i'd already been diagnosed with generalized anxiety so like. "yes i obsess over conversations i've had or will have and repeat things over and over in my head" "yes i constantly check to make sure things are okay" "yes i hyperanalyze and hypercriticize myself" all got wrapped up in that.

i think the behavior that i actually brought up with that therapist that precipitated the realization was i started vacuuming a corner of my room repeatedly like over the course of several weeks, every day. just obsessively vacuuming this corner because i kept finding tiny cat litter crystals there from a previous tenant. i'd be literally picking it out of the carpet with my fingers with my head parallel to the floor just staring and trying to find these things for like an hour at a time. colossal waste of time. but it was "important." and i was finally like...THIS is excessive, right?

but i do a lot of things that are the opposite of "classic" OCD which confused me for YEARS - like i genuinely have such poor food hygiene and don't care about bodily fluids, i love touching sticky things, my personal things are poorly organized, my room was always a mess, etc etc.

i got officially evaluated when i went in for the psilocybin study (beginning of this year) where i met an OCD specialist for the first time who did this complete battery of questions with me. there were things i never realized were OCD for me:

very obsessed with parasitic insects and constantly checking for bedbugs and fleas even when i have no reason to suspect these things

constantly re-reading everything i write. 5x. 10x. saying whole sentences over and over in my head. the sentence is fine, i didn't make a mistake, but i just have to keep reading it to be 1000% sure.

rubbing my scalp a lot and pulling out random hairs on my legs, eyebrows, eyelashes

over-explaining so fucking much to be absolutely sure i'm not misunderstood or that someone can read bad intentions into what i'm saying. "predicting" conversations and anticipating entire lines of questioning and how i would defend myself. lol.

intrusive horror film-esque thoughts

being terrified as a child that i would be possessed by a demon if i yawned too wide - i had other extremely irrational superstitions that i would force on myself and try to live by for no reason, these started at like age 10

obsessions around my health (orthorexia, i've ping-ponged between various diets like vegan / gluten-free / vegetarian thinking that it would help me)

only ever felt normal when drinking. like i could just let go of the compulsions and anxiety while drunk.

it was really hard to even parse a lot of this out being 1) already anxious, 2) raised very religious, and 3) BOTH my parents and my older sister have OCD, so all this was just normal!! my mom also pulled out her hair. my mom and my sister also had eating disorders and very weird attitudes around medicine. superstitions and moral scrupulosity were encouraged in our community. i had no reason to think that any of this could all be linked back to an actual disorder.

i really wish i'd had intervention at least a decade or more earlier. this started when i was in grade school at least. it sucks. so much of the public perception of OCD is centered on the classic symmetry / cleanliness / hand-washing shit. it did not help that my family loved watching Monk when i was growing up so i was like "oh, i'm not like THAT" and never questioned it.

i think(?) i might go to the big OCD conference happening in the states next year, not sure, but i really want to talk to people about psilocybin. idk let me know if you have any other questions, i'm still processing a lot of this.

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Vincent Van Babe-Magnet

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Description: You run into an old childhood crush, and Eddie befriends a family of very dapper rodents.

Warnings: None! Other than the fact that this is very silly.

Word Count: 1956

My Masterlist!

"Why does it feel like this is going to be way harder than we thought?" Staring at the giant canvas drop stretched across Stage B in the Hawkins Community Theater building, you sighed.

Though you never would have believed it possible, it seemed as though Eddie's deep rooted nerd nature had extended to Dustin even more so than it already had: he convinced the kid to go do tech for the theater's spring musical, a production of Sweeney Todd. 'Just check it out, see if you like it,' Eddie had said.

Turns out, Eddie had been correct in thinking Dustin would like it.

How that somehow meant you two had to get roped into it too is beyond you, but nevertheless, there you stood on this Saturday afternoon in your nicest-worst overalls, eyes scanning across the project in front of you. Eddie seemed ecstatic; he had been in the school's musicals as a freshman and sophomore, until his grades started to slip and the school stopped letting him audition. You, on the other hand, thought the idea of performing on stage in front of the entire school and everyone's grandma (so, really, half of the whole town) seemed downright horrifying.

"Guys! Hey!" you heard Dustin call from behind you. "Thanks for doing this, seriously. We are, like, majorly short-handed right now."

"No worries, dude," Eddie assured him. "It'll be fun!"

You nodded with enthusiasm,. though the very large and nearly blank canvas in front of you had you worrying. Dustin and Eddie started on one of their many semi-nonsense sounding conversations as you turned away to look for someone who seemed like they might be in charge. You quickly spotted a familiar face (or rather, familiar back-of-head), which alleviated some of your nervousness.

"Mr. Jesperson," you greeted as you walked up behind the currently crouched over a small mountain of paint buckets. "I didn't know you'd be here!"

"Oh! Hey," he responded. He pushed himself off of the ground and was about to shake your hand, before he realized he had planted it right into a puddle of mucus green paint and pulled it back to wipe it across his jeans. They looked like they could be their own art piece, with how many paint smears and splatters littered the acid washed fabric. "Haven't seen ya in ages. Wouldn't'a pegged you as the performance arts type."

"I'm not, really. Eddie, he wanted to help, but I was coerced," you clarified and gestured to your boyfriend behind you, who seemed to have gotten into some kind of very dramatic debate with Dustin and another boy you hadn't met before. "Dustin said you guys really needed it."

"Yeah, that kid can be very persuasive," Mr. Jesperson said with a laugh.

"I'd say more like 'unendingly stubborn and mildly vindictive,' but yeah, persuasive works too."

Mr. Jesperson was one of the art teachers at Hawkins High. He'd only started during your sophomore year, but he quickly became a favorite among the student population. He was one of the youngest faculty members, he wasn't evil like his predecessor had been, and he was an out-of-towner. He had moved to Hawkins from Chicago to take care of his grandmother after his mom passed away unexpectedly, which meant he hadn't fallen prey to all of the gossip that spread through this town like wildfire: I.E. he never had it out for Eddie. In fact, he quite liked having your boyfriend in class, and Eddie actually liked being in them. He was, by far, the best teacher he had ever had.

Eddie and Dustin were done with their debate, and Eddie sidled up to you. He tossed an arm around your shoulders before pointing his attention towards your former teacher.

"Jesperson!" he exclaimed. He had a tendency to forget how loud he could be. "Dustin said you might be here."

"It's good to see ya, Eddie," Mr. Jesperson said with a nod. "How's the band going? Haven't heard anything bout you guys in a while."

"Jeff moved for school." Eddie said morosely. "Tried to figure it out, but it's looking pretty dead in the water."

"Aw, man. Sorry to hear that," Mr. Jespersen said as he crouched back down onto the black stage floor. "I'm sure you'll find something else, though. You've got more musical talent in your pinky than I have in my whole body."

"Eh, we'll see," Eddie did his best to deflect the compliment, but you could practically feel the blush inching its way towards his cheeks. You leaned just a little bit closer into him as you opened your mouth to ask how the two of you could help, before a crash in the wings interrupted you. Mr. Jesperson let out a sigh and brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. It left a little pink fingerprint right between his eyebrows.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “Let me go make sure no one died. Or destroyed any more of my props.”

“Any more?” you prodded.

“Yeah, you can ask your friend over there about that,” Mr. Jesperson stood back up again and shot a glance towards Dustin, who was paying zero attention to what was happening and seemed much more interested in the gadgets he was messing around with. You and Eddie shared a look and tried to stifle your giggles. “You guys get started on this. Everything’s already drawn, all you gotta do is fill in the colors.”

“What colors do you want?”

“All the sketches are over here, you can follow the ones on those if you want to, but they’re not set in stone or anything. I trust you two.” Mr. Jesperson turned away from you two in a rush, and you heard him call as he walked away, “Matthew, I swear to god, if I have to fix that chest again, I’m locking you in it overnight!”

You and Eddie weren’t able to contain your laughter much longer after that. 

“I’m finding Dustin after this and making him tell me what he broke,” you stated as you sifted through Mr. Jesperson’s sketches. “I bet it was something expensive.”

“Should I be worried about him?” Eddie asked with a smug grin. You met his gaze with confusion. 

“About Dustin?” you questioned. “What do you mean? Kid’s having the time of his life over there.”

“No, not Dustin,” he clarified. “About Mr. Dreamboat.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned with an eye roll. “I really wish I hadn’t told you about that!”

“You’re the one who's in love with him!” Eddie teased. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I get it, I really do, but I feel like I might need to be a little bit concerned!”

“I am not in love with him!” you defended yourself, the sinking weight of embarrassment settling itself in your gut.

“Tell that to 15 year old you,” he said with a laugh. “I bet you she’s in there somewhere, probably drooling over his paint stained clothes and muscley arms.”

“I’m going to actually kill you,” you said, wielding a paint brush as if it were a knife. 

“Nah, you won’t, you like me too much.” Eddie grabbed a paint tray and a few brushes, and planted himself at the bottom left corner of the canvas. He was quiet for a moment as he started spreading brown paint within the outline of a small family of rats tucked into the corner of the scene. “Not as much as you like Vincent Van Babe-Magnet, though.” 

You let out a groan, but joined him by his side with your own paint and brushes anyway. You knew he was just teasing you, that any jealousy you might pick up from him is all fabricated. Besides, you knew for a fact that he had been head over heels for his freshman English teacher in ninth grade. 

The pair of you worked on your own little sections in relative silence, eventually sharing your paint trays with each other and occasionally asking for the other’s input on the shading or details of whatever it was you were focused on. While you were making a pretty solid amount of progress, Eddie had been pouring all of his attention of the last hour into the rat family, which now all had little eighteenth century outfits, complete with tiny silk tophats and lace parasols. 

“Eddie, I don’t think the rats in seventeen-eighty-whatever London were going to the tailor,” you said to him. You had now moved a few feet down the canvas, but you still had a good view of Eddie’s rodent noblemen. 

“You don’t think they're handsome?” he asked you, feigning offense. 

“They’re a very stylish family of rats, I’m just not sure if they really fit into the story all that well.”

Eddie let out a dramatic gasp and clutched a hand to his chest. He leaned down closer to the canvas, speaking to the painted rodents as if they were real and also understood English. 

“Don’t listen to her, guys. You belong wherever you wanna be!” he less-than-quietly whispered into the still wet paint. He turned back to you with that mischievous glint in his eyes that you didn’t think you could ever stop adoring. “Apologize. Right now.”

“Eddie.” Any other day you would have absolutely played along, but it was starting to get late and your back was aching from being crouched down on the ground.

“Not to me,” Eddie said. “Apologize to Ralexander.”

“Ralexander?”

“Yeah, and his wife MargaRat, and their children Ratbitha and SebRatstian.”

“Oh, my god.”

“Ralexander is a member of Parliament.”

“Ralexander, I am truly sorry,” you said, though you could barely keep a straight face while you did. “MargaRat, may I say, you look beautiful tonight.”

Eddie brought his ear to the canvas and nodded along to the imaginary rats’ words.

“MargaRat says thank you, but Ralexander feels as though you’re trying to make a pass at his wife.”

“Eddie, I love you, but can we please go home?” you asked. Eddie stood up and stretched with a face splitting yawn. the tiniest sliver of his tummy peeked through the gap left between his waistband and ripped up t-shirt.

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to go a little bit insane,” Eddie said.

“Starting?”

“Ha, ha.”

You helped clean up and said a few goodbyes (turns out Dustin knocked over and shattered a lamp on the second day he was there), including a very awkward interaction with Mr. Jesperson in which Eddie kept hinting towards you childhood crush, though thankfully it seemed as though your former teacher remained oblivious. 

 The pair of you were just five or so minutes into the drive back to your shared apartment when you started to nod off in the passenger seat. You were trying as hard as you could to keep your attention to what Eddie was saying, but it was late and you could feel the exhaustion slowly overtaking you.

“Dustin said they’re gonna do Rocky Horror for Halloween,” Eddie told you. You were much too sleepy to respond beyond a hum. “I kinda wanna audition.”

“You should,” you mumbled.

“I bet ya if we moved to L.A. I would make a great movie star,” Eddie stated.

“We’re not moving to L.A.,” you grumbled. “We don’t have any money and L.A. is expensive.”

“Well, my mad acting skills and rugged good looks would make up for our lack of funds,” he explained, as if it would be that simple. “I’d star in some blockbuster action-horror flick and make us millions.”

You were barely awake when you mumbled out an agreement, almost drowned out by the hum of the van's engine and the quiet music playing through the speakers.

“Yeah, you would."

[sunny6677]

KIND OF A RAMBLE ABOUT MY EPIC S/I??? MORE LIKE A FUN FACTS KINDA THING.

General facts about the S/I in this:

- She was trying to sleep one night after a long stressful argument with her mom and her half sisters father—and was just generally stressed because of her grades and her conflicted self image. That was at least until she heard a strange noise coming from outside. And saw a flashing orb of light. She decided to tell her mom, who went to take a look—but the next thing Sunny knew, there was suddenly the sound of her mom yelling and a bright flash of light that sounded as if it were bursting into the house. She went to go check on her mom—only for a portal to suddenly appear and casually suck her in. Which is how she ends up in the past, and on Odysseus' ship.

- When she first appears, I imagine the crew either finds her because they heard a loud noise on the ship, or Eurylochus (accompanied by Odysseus) ends up finding her inside of the ship somewhere. But the thing is they speak Ancient Greek, so neither of them understand what she's saying (then again she's just kind of quiet in general to the point where they almost think she's mute at first), and she doesn't understand a word they're saying either. But they do kinda find a way to communicate by just making gestures at her and stuff, and she eventually (and slowly) learns Greek from being around them for so long.

- Sunnys design changes over the course of the series—mainly from different injuries or different gifts certain deities give to her (Hermes mainly, but Calypso also gives her something because she forcibly adopts Sunny as her and Odys daughter—that is at least if Sunny ends up meeting her, but either way I can imagine Hermes straight up takes her away from the Island at some point and causes her to 'mysteriously' go missing).

- Sunny kind of did know who Hermes was in a way, but she didn't realize what Hellenism was in this universe and thought the deities were just her 'imagination'. Which is why she doesn't recognize Hermes when she first meets him, but does have the odd feeling he looks strangely familiar.

- None of the deities are trying to kill Sunny or anything, but they have legimately no idea how she got here at first, so the story consists of Zeus and Poseidon all trying to take her so they can give her to Hades and have him figure out what to do since she's not even supposed to be alive yet. While Hermes is actively and continously trying to take her with him because.. welllll I mean one of his worshippers is here and it's one who he literally sees as his daughter, and he doesn't want bad things happening to her, so that's why he keeps trying to take her. But he does agree to stop after a while since she needs to get home and he can wait another century if needed because he's a God and time doesn't go as slowly for him as it would a regular mortal.

- Aphrodite and Apollo also know who she is because she worships them too—and they are happy that she's here, but Aphrodite is of the opinion that she should get back home and Apollo kinda doesn't care either way since he's just happy that she's here. And she also worships Zeus in the future but he's STERNLY determined that she should get back home and kinda chases her around for the whole story.

- Odysseus, Eurlyochus, Polites and all the other members of the crew are very nice to her since she's just a young girl and they all try to take care of her the best they can. But they legimately have no idea why she's here and think she must have been from where they fought their war and just happened to sneak on to avoid being hurt. Which they obviously don't decide to hurt her despite thinking she's from where they just fought since she's just a child and had nothing to do with what happened. And they also don't know why she's dressed up like that because this is in older times and rarely anyone in Greece dressed like that. But they end up realizing what actually happened when Zeus goes to confront them and tries to take Sunny during Thunder Bringer, only for her to somehow end up falling from his grasp again and end up washing up on Calypsos Isle with Odysseus for a bit. But I can't decide if she does that or if she should be taken by Zeus only for Hermes to show up and take her.

- Polites was the best with Sunny when he was still alive and often tried to make her happy despite their circumstances.

- Circe does probably know who she is because of Hermes?? It's more probable that she doesn't know though since she hasn't spoken to Hermes in a bit most likely. But either way she likely doesn't hurt Sunny directly since thats a child and she probably just makes the nymphs take her away. Or just straight up kicks Sunny out.

- Maybe Aphrodite and Apollo would also try to help Sunny?? Unsure.

Hermes' and Sunny's relationship:

- If their first direct encounter is during the Circe Saga for this AU, I imagine Sunny is possibly left on her own or just with Odysseus at some point. But I think maybe Odysseus should just go to get something while Eurlyochus is off with the other men—only for Hermes to suddenly show up after giggling and making her confused as fuck as to where he is. And after finally appearing to her, she doesn't know how to react because he seems oddly familiar in a way, only for him to softly greet her after giggling and possibly pulling her into a hug. He's incredibly friendly toward her the entire time and is.. strangely gentle despite his normally cheeky nature??? He's still kinda playful but he's very obviously just happy to see her.

- I can't decide if Hermes should literally just start following Sunny everywhere after the Circe Saga and be basically present for everything she encounters. Or if he should just only appear sometimes. Or if he should technically be following her the entire time but she can't tell that he's there and only knows of his presence when he makes himself visible.

- Hermes has a shadow cast over his eyes like most designs, but with Sunny, he'll sometimes reveal what his eyes actually look like—mainly when he's being more genuine with her or if he's trying to comfort her in some way.

- I imagine Odysseus at least somehow finds out about Hermes and Sunnys whole dynamic.

- Whenever Sunny is upset, Hermes typically appears to comfort her, and it usually works since he's very soft with her especially.

- Hermes is so affectionate with Sunny to the point of practically hugging her anytime he sees her, patting her head, giving her little platonic pecks on the face, holding her hand sometimes if she needs it, sometimes letting her sit in his lap and even cuddling her. And he also treats her like she's younger than she actually is sometimes (in a good way of course since he's just trying to be gentle/lh).

- Hermes calls her 'Sun' 'Sweetie' 'Darling' 'Dear' 'Dearie' 'Little Messenger' 'Little Thief' 'Little Writer' 'Honey' all as nicknames hrhdhs. And I imagine maybe when Sunny becomes more comfortable she treats him like he's her dad lol.

- I imagine Hermes also maybe sometimes shows up just to distract her or maybe just do something with her (like play a game or smth/lh).

[anarchywoofwoof]

It's funny about the homeschooling thing: I had friends who were homeschooled and I cannot express how badly many of us wish our parents had the means to do so.

I was sick so often (bad immune system, endometriosis before they had a term for it) we had to go to court to defend ourselves for "truancy." I had straight A's. When I was there, I swept the tests. But they want you there in person, or else.

To not have had to wait in the cold or blazing heat without gear because poor and our parents had to be at work at 6am......

I know there are plenty of parents not cut out for it or who weren't trained and would give a subpar education, but wouldn't it be great if as humans we had so much time on our hands that we COULD?

Like every adult had so much time they could educate themselves on at least one or two subjects until a little human comes around and then Get Excited to tell them!! About the thing they learned!! Some adults really like space, some love crochet or woodworking - to see all your teachers (adults in your community) passionate about subjects and to have the freedom to express your own like or dislike or take breaks when you need to without judgement? To work at your own pace?? God I want for that future. Also tech can cut down on infections/flu and illness spreading because idiot schools INSIST on keeping 100's of students locked into tiny rooms with poor ventilation. Our school wouldn't let us open the windows during the heat of summer. Because reasons?? Note, we didn't have air conditioning.

thanks for sharing this.

so here's the thing: although i was homeschooled (really, more "no schooled" than anything), i was able to teach myself on the internet. when i was growing up, the internet was just really taking off (jesus christ i feel old saying that) and it enabled me to really just kind of teach myself whatever i wanted. so as i grew older, i grew more resourceful, more digitally literate and crafted my own education.

now the downside to this is that if you want to go into a highly-skilled field or something like science, mathematics, etc. that kind of thing is hard to pull off in a home setting.

for instance, i had absolutely no science "classes" during my school life because the amount of equipment and knowledge needed is far surpassed what my truck driver father and leasing agent mother could provide

keep in mind, i didn't have tutors. i didn't have in-house teachers. it was my fucking dad teaching me between his time working from 3 PM to 1 AM and my mom checking my homework when she remembered and after she got home from work at 5 PM. most days, i didn't have "school." i slept in and did whatever i wanted throughout the rest of the day. luckily, i was addicted to knowledge regardless, so it all worked out for me.

i'm not opposed to the idea of homeschooling, i should stress this. i won't necessarily go to the extremes of calling it child abuse or something like that. but i do think it's wise to remember that a school has entire staff dedicated to teaching your child and that perhaps it takes some hubris to assume you can fulfill your kids learning needs the same way that a staff of (hopefully) trained professionals can.

i think homeschooling is more possible than ever in the current digital world that we occupy. but my parents definitely didn't have the time, money, patience or any other of the valuable resources that you need to teach a kid from 1st grade to their senior year of high school. especially in the late 90's, early 00's, which is when i grew up.

and the problem is often that most parents don't actually have these resources, but still think that they're more than capable of meeting all of those needs that i mentioned before. unfortunately, this ends up hurting their kid the most when they go out into the world with absolutely no clue how to function in it socially.

[crvstybowlofcereal]

(hey moots, this one's gonna get a little personal about me, avert your eyeballs)

Dear 13 year olds (and surrounding ages, ie 12-15 or whatever)

Being your age IS hard, and I'm so sorry people try to brush it off and say you "don't know anything about adult problems and stress"

They just Forgot what it's like to be your age.

12-15 was the Worst time in my life, and no one took me seriously.

From 11-14 I was bullied and I couldn't even figure out why. It was like the entire school (minus like a handful of people) were out to get me and my friends.

When I was 13 I was being cyberstalked by pedophiles.

When I was 13/14 one of my friends tried to pressure me into dating him (despite knowing I'm gay), he told many many lies, and even tried to threaten suicide.

I had friends going in and out of the mental hospital during middle school, and we didn't have reliable communication so they would just be gone from school and I didn't know if they were okay.

Puberty caused me a lot of problems, including but not limited to gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, and my sensory disorder severely worsening (I couldn't make it through the day without a meltdown, and God forbid you melt down in front of middle schoolers, so i would hold it in all day and go home and SOB)

I had my heart broken at 12, but who takes it serious when you're that young?

My grades fell from As for the first time ever when I got to middle school, and my parents got mad at me for it (today they would deny that statement, but I carried it with me)

From 12-16 I was in the depths of an eating disorder

I had so many loved ones in my life passing away, and no one really checked up on me.

The one opportunity I had to see a therapist, my mom wanted us to talk about my "anger issues"

Your peers expect you to have independence and expensive things like clothes (at least mine did) while you have no license and no job. God forbid you grow up poor I guess.

You're becoming aware of the world for the first time, the social and political climate, the push to be perfect in every way, and you really become aware of all the ways you don't fit in, or aren't "good enough"

At this age especially they want you to act like an adult while being treated like a child.

So I am so sorry you're having to deal with so much and people think it's funny when you say so. You are always welcome to vent to me if you need a shoulder to cry on. Because i Remember being your age. You are not alone.

[suniverseastro]

Okay thansk you sm for answering❤️

Well my boyfriend of 18 months and I recently got into astrology and thought it'd be fun to check our composite chart, however we feel limited because we're not sure of his rising sign so we don't know our house placements. We have three gueses which is Saggitaruis( same rising as me ), libra or Taraus rising but we wanted an opinion from someone more experienced to maybe help us narrow it down based on his face since it's the Asc.

For some context; we know each other from high school (he's a year below me but we're the same age because he started school later), and we met through my friend was in his class that year ( she wouldn't stop telling me about him and how he had a crush on me for almost the whole year so i told her to give him my number because i found him attractive). He only text me towards the end of exams because he was scared I'd reject him because he's in a lower grade and also because he takes his results extremely seriously 😭🤞🏼(he's always no. 1 in his year from the top 10 students in school). I don't know if these will help but he does Mathematics, physical science, civil construction and Engineering graphics & design (he likes working with his hands and being practical). He really loves his family especially his mom & He has an older brother (they have different moms) and two younger siblings. I'd describe our relationship as comfortable, it feels so easy to communicate to him even if at first i feel scared to communicate something, we're goofy and we tease one another(im a bit sensitive so you can imagine how sour i get afterwards sometimes😂), he likes scaring me and i like babying him, we share alottt of jokes and flirt... especially him.(it makes me shy🥲). At first when we started talking I thought he didn't like me because I couldn't always tell what he's feeling even though he was being obvious (i think it's because his venus falls into my 12th H - i read it from lilmajorshawty synastry observations) and he said very early into the relationship that I made him feel comfortable so quickly and I felt the same. And he was very blunt from the beginning that he wanted us to get to know each other because he wanted us to be together... and he always reassures &validates my questions and concerns straightforwardly.

Here's some pictures of him(i apologize if any are a bit inappropriate) and his general birth chart without his birth time.

And...Here's my chart just incase,

Thank you for your time and energy ❤️🤗. Also I'm sorry if I'm oversharing😭 I'm just not sure on what would help or what you need😊.

I received your ask and my opinion about his rising is Libra ( because the vibe like someone has Libra ASC I've met) and it just my guess

I read your detail and story of you, it's so sweet and the chart of you and bf make me smile one more time bc you and he have a lot thing compatible with each others 🧚🏼‍♀️🌸

#guess rising

[whalelover64]

👪family for both Aster and Amber!

My apologies for the delay! Thank you Doll! :D 

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

Aster:

Aster's family is a unique one. He's an only child with a loving mom and dad named Remedy and Orville. Aster’s whole family lineage are plague doctors, or doctors of any kind, but mostly plague doctors. 

His father’s side has been more focused on modern day medical treatments such as in hospitals or laboratories. Orville is a master surgeon plague doctor, so he would be able to do any emergency surgery up to the last minute. Aster’s uncle is a field researcher who goes around different towns, samples sick people, and brings it back to a lab to find any new diseases to combat against.

His mother’s side are mostly traditional plague doctors. They would work as local plague doctors for small town folk. Regular check ups and treatments are be free and are paid by the government. They’re not just traditional in medical treatments, but also in family life styles, too. Remedy felt like she was the only person in her family who had a normal outlook on life rather than stick with the past and stay traditional. 

Aster has a really close relationship with his mom and dad. They love him dearly and vise versa. He is also close to his uncle William/Bill (Orville’s brother) as he would have visits often and treats Aster as his own son. His uncle is also the reason why he loves hybridizing flowers. On his mother’s side, he’s not too fond of. They are family so he does go every once in a while to keep in touch, but does keep a distance from them. 

Amber:

This is a tough one. Amber's mom and dad went missing when she as 4 years old, and she wasn't claimed by any other family member. So it's safe to say that Amber doesn't have any blood-related family alive that she knows of. But I'll talk about her parents.

Amber's dad was named Ashton Graves. He was a skilled wizard and passed his college years with ease. However, he really wanted to be a children's show host. He dreamed of teaching little witches and wizards fun spells on television in a wacky fun way. When Amber was very little, he would practice with her as they play together. He was a wholesome dad.

Amber's mom was named Abigail Graves. She was more mild mannered, but had a clever side to her as well. She was the top student in her classes and graduated college with an S rank, the highest grade possible and most honorable rank to achieve. She didn't have much of a direction in life, but wanted to be part of a community coven who offers magical services in their local area.

Everything all changed when Ashton and Abigail went missing. Amber had to grow up in an orphanage where she was forbidden to learn magic at all, thanks to the strict headmaster. Now that Amber is in college, she pretty much made her own family with Aster, Faela, and Liza.

[catrakomtrikru]

You know, since I'm on the topic of personal trauma and music saving me have another post. This is going to be a long one.

When I was in my mid 20s my mom got sick and went to the hospital. She almost died. And it might not be shocking after my last post but dad and his side of the family were no help. They didn't even want to take me and my brother to see her. I wasn't working yet and couldn't drive. And my brother has some mental health problems that make it hard for him to do either.

Well fast forward and she comes home but we ended up moving to a cheaper place because now money is tight. One night I'm at work, I was doing security at some apartments and I get a call. It's mom saying she got thrown in jail because the tags on the car were out. We end getting the bail money a few days later but now we have no car. Which makes it harder for me and mom to get to work. We mostly ate of my brother's ssi money. And guess what? We end up losing the house too.

So now we're staying with this other family in a falling apart house that smells like dog shit. We knew them because I went to first grade with the older daughter and mom and her mom stayed friends. While there we had no privacy, people were having sex where everyone could see and one night the mom's boyfriend attacked me.

The next day my older brother and his family drive three hours to come get us. This was in 2020. I'm still living with them, and I don't plan on moving. I did end up going through a shitty break up and I git sexually and otherwise harassed by a coworker. And after everything that happened it was a lot on my mental health. I felt like I'd never get better.

So to help with the feelings one day I'm just on YouTube listening to music and this cover of misery business shows up. I check it out and it's really good. I took up the singer and it turned out she was in a band, and they're local.

So April of 2023 I go see this band play at pop punk nite and I get to meet the girl, her name is Chaney. She was so sweet and she's still sweet to me now. We stayed in touch over Instagram and have seen each other several times since meeting last year.

Through her I've made sooo many other amazing friends too. I'm pretty much friends with all the local bands in the scene now, they all hug me and sometimes give me free staff. I had one guy message me asking for the videos I took at his show the other night and posted one on Instagram. And they always dm me asking me to go to shows.

The first House parties, Chaney's band went on tour I went when they had their hometown show and she literally ran to me, jumped on me, and threw her arms around my neck. I caught her and hugged her back. She also recommended the shop I got my most recent tattoo at.

But yeah, this community saved me and gave me a family I needed. I love them ❤️

Here's some pics of me and some of my favorite people.

Photo credits in case you want to check the bands out.

1. Me and Chaney from House parties

2. Me, Jarrett and Zak from offended by everything.

3. Me and Colton from waiting 4 April

(I'll check for typos tomorrow)

[novadreii]

How did you *know* you were definitely done, like what is the exact cut off point? Is it just when you recognize prior patterns of abuse? I struggle so hard with this because I want to believe that people are capable of change. And I myself have struggled with my own baggage and abusive behaviour, so I want to give people the benefit of the doubt that I wish for. Hope this isn't weird to ask.

hey, not weird at all.

primarily, i felt like they employed certain tactics to punish me when i wasn't "behaving" the way they wanted me to. they usually liked to stonewall, gaslight, ignore me, invalidate me, and straight up play dumb whenever i tried to voice any kind of emotional distress. my mom would do all of these + rage and hit me, so it took me a while to make the connection between my ex and my mom just because he didn't physically abuse me. but they are both deeply emotionally childish and have narcissistic tendencies.

there was simply no love, guidance or tenderness emanating from him anymore, where those things once flowed from him in spades. it was very clear that he didn't deem me worthy of any basic respect once i lost romantic value to him.

i was ultimately done when:

i realized he had zero intention of changing of fixing anything because he refused to communicate a specific plan to do so. he would claim he loved me (words) but fail to back it up with action. so it wasn't just a temporary problem that he was trying in good faith to fix like i was doing with my issues. he was just LIKE this and it was understood i would have to deal with it.

i realized he had never issued me any kind of remorseful apology and didn't intend to. he hated accountability and apologies with a fucking vengeance. i've never seen anyone besides my mother so averse to apologizing. red fucking flag. this man watched me suffer at his hands for months, knew i was suffering from immense and debilitating anxiety that i was doing everything in my power to control, offered NO assistance, curiosity or care (didn't ask me ONCE in the last few months of our relationship a simple "how are you?"), and never sincerely apologized for it. i actually did get one written peudo-apology ("IF you feel i have wronged you, then i am sorry" everyone learned in the 5th grade that qualifiers have no place in a true apology) and one verbal one ("okay, i'm sorry!" in the exact tone that a petulant teenager uses when not having done his homework and he is not sorry one little bit for it) and they obviously did not count at all. there was no feeling behind it. no empathy. no remorse. just...annoyance? like ugh, this needy bitch demanding that i coddle her again, gross. let me shut her up.

subsequent to the above point, he felt JUSTIFIED in his treatment of me and would never truly feel sorry because of that. he was very performatively moral - this is a guy who goes to a climate rally once every few years and thinks he is the reincarnation of christ striking down capitalism with the radical left because of it. he sees himself as the quintessential Good GuyTM, always TALKS about how good and nice he is, and i came to realize that this identity is rock solid in his eyes---he believes so resolutely in his innate goodness that i know he will never be able to truly introspect and realize that actually, he is capable of harm. we ALL are. we all possess light and dark and it's our responsibility to keep the dark in check, not just try to convince people we are all light. but he cannot and will not conceive of himself as capable of hurting others, so he will continue to do so.

we tried to be friends after breaking up, but he actually continued treating me with the same disdain afterwards. especially with the use of ignoring and talking down to me like i was a fucking child when he didn't like something i said or did, instead of just like. communicating. like an adult. he continued just evading and shutting me down instead of giving me any kind of explanation or closure that i felt i was reasonably due after wasting nearly 3 years of my life and moving to the other side of the country for him.

SO. i actually pulled a rather brilliant manipulation tactic on him towards the end that i don't think he was even cognizant of. he always considered himself rather superior to others and like a chess wizard moving the people in his life around like pawns on a board, which was a huge ick to me lol, but i took a leaf out of his book for once.

i explained to him that in order to be friends, i needed him to really, properly apologize to me, something i was 99.999999% he would never ever do even if he lived to be 1000 years old. if he didn't, we couldn't be friends. this had a 3-fold purpose:

for me, getting an apology is not about my ego. i couldn't care less about being groveled to. it's a test of someone's character. my abusive mother never ONCE apologized for her abuse of our entire family; she hated apologies just as much as he did. apologies demonstrate to me 4 vital traits that i consider to be MUSTS for anyone in my inner circle: maturity, humility, bravery, and integrity. apologies are humbling and hard and they feel like shit especially when you know you are fucking wrong. but truly decent people with backbones know when they are in the wrong, they know the value in making reparations, and they aren't scared to do so. their moral compass exceeds their cowardice.

i was pretty confident that the person he'd revealed himself to be didn't truly posses any of the above 4 traits. but i wasn't sure. i had seen him be so kind and decent on so many occasions that my judgment felt clouded. if he didn't have those traits, then his pride/ego/cowardice would never let him actually apologize, and i would be absolved of having someone like that in my life because he did me a favour and removed himself from it.

BUT on the chance that i was wrong about him and he DID sincerely apologize and make things right, then i would know i had judged him too harshly, or maybe he'd gone to therapy and did some DEEP inner work on himself. this is the only point at which i would be comfortable calling this person a friend.

i consider this brilliant because it ultimately left the decision regarding the nature of our relationship in his hands. friends or strangers? i was so tired of trying to ascertain for myself what kind of person he was and getting mixed signals because of how hot and cold he ran all the time (one of his manipulations). i left it completely in his hands because i was just exhausted. i didn't want the cold, indifferent, aloof version of him in my life. i wanted the soft, kind, vulnerable, brave version that i honestly don't think was ever more than a facade at this point. if it was a facade, then he would never try to make amends. the person i thought i knew would make this right.

i know what you mean. we want to treat others like we want to be treated. all i know is i know my own heart and intention better than anyone. i was also problematic and at times abusive during our relationship. i have PLENTY of my own issues. BUT i never dodged accountability, i apologized sincerely more times than i can count. i FELT deeply terrible. hurting someone i love feels like i'm skinning myself alive, tbh. i went--am still going--to therapy. i know in my heart i genuinely and in good faith did everything i believe was right even when it was hard, even when the shame felt like it would swallow me whole. i sincerely wasn't trying to evade working on my issues like i had in the past. i wanted to do right by this person, and make things right, and this was not reciprocated in the slightest. he was only concerned with himself and what felt good to him, which seemed to include punishing me often.

so no, i don't feel bad, because i gave him every opportunity to self-reflect, go to therapy, and improve things on his end like i was doing on mine. i hung in there way past the point that was healthy for me; i was a pile of shot nerves by the end. but i couldn't carry it for both of us. it was too heavy, and i shouldn't have to. you can give the benefit of the doubt, but when it becomes clear the person is not treating you with equity, respect or good faith, and doesn't ever intend to again, you must believe them.

you cannot suffer indefinitely (or under the illusion that the suffering will be indefinite) for anybody. nobody is perfect, this is what my ex failed to understand. i didn't judge him for being shitty or having trauma or problems. what i couldn't abide was the unwillingness to introspect, take accountability, and grow. that is the only thing that separates "safe" and "unsafe" people to me. the willingness to heal. i have boatloads of trauma myself. but the difference between him and i is that i really want to change in ways that FEEL deeply unsafe and uncomfortable (but are ultimately important) so that i don't hurt people. i know i am capable of being and have been a shitty human and i really don't want to be anymore. i want to do the right thing even when it's hard and doesn't come easily, not just in performative showy ways that don't take much effort.

my ex, who is so entrenched in his copium identity of being someone who is Good and can never do any wrong, just sees me, all of his exes and any friend he's ever lost as The Problem. i remember foolishly believing him, believing that he just had terrrrrrible luck with people! it's easier for him to think this way, because if he was able to actually introspect, think critically about himself and come to terms with the downright dehumanizing ways he has treated others throughout his life, he would feel some icky feelings he doesn't want to feel. he would realize it plays some major part into why he cannot maintain any long-term connections romantic OR platonic, in the loneliness he feels. it's funny because one of his most cherished values is critical thinking; he just prefers to apply it to political analysis (the external) instead of himself (the internal).

to heal, we all have to confront the parts of ourselves we are deeply ashamed of. it feels like ass! and he just isn't ready to do that the way i am. so our paths must diverge, and it was ultimately his decision. my decision was finally enacting a standard for how i will let him--anyone--treat me.

i am sad somtimes, i do miss this person on occasion (or rather, who he led me to believe he was) and i cherish the good memories we had together the best i can. but i know i can no longer withstand neglect, disrespect and cruelty from people close to me anymore. my mind can withstand it more easily than my body can. i feel like i've aged 20 years in this relationship. i feared for my health and had to realize that while i cannot force anyone to change how they treat me, i can remove myself now. i am not a powerless child the way i was with my mother.

it's weird, because i initially started therapy to save my relationship, but therapy is what armed me with the self-love and self-respect to leave it. this irony will never be lost on me.

[shazuiashan]

Hi everyone! My name is Shanly Rose Tiro Casuna; call me "Shan" for short. I am 18 years old. I live in Purok Beauty in the Sky, Timpolok Babag 2, and Lapu-Lapu City. Do you want to know what my life is like? (Chismosa! Char!)) 

So here's the story of my life! Throwback: When I was 6 months old, my papa died because he had leukemia stage 4. He never told anyone that he was sick, not until he always felt that his head was always aching and that all of his body had a lot of black dots, and that was the symptom of his illness. All of my uncle's brothers rushed him to the hospital. When they arrived at the hospital, the doctor checked him and found out that my father has leukemia cancer stage 4, and it is too late to make him heal because it is already stage 4 cancer. All of my uncle's and mama's children cried because of my father's situation. After a week, my father decides to go home because he doesn't want to die at the hospital because there's no chance to live long, he said.

My grandma didn't agree with my father's decisions, but that's what he wanted. My grandma told the doctor that they wanted to go home, and when they got home, my mama always cried because she didn't want to see that my father was suffering. My father loses hope because he says that he will no longer live. My father's situations became more difficult, and he said he wanted to rest because he was tired, but before he died, he told my mom and my uncle's to take care of me, never let anyone hurt me, and love me like their own daughter. After my father said that, he had already closed his eyes. Everyone is crying except me because I don't even know what's happening because I'm just a 6-month-old baby.

Fast forward: after 3 years, my mother found another guy, who is my mother's husband right now. When my mama and her husband lived together in the same house, my life became miserable. My mother's attention was always on her husband. Her husband doesn't want my mother to take care of me; he always says that my tita will take care of me because he wants my mother's attention.

When my mama's husband went abroad, I was very happy because my mama's attention was all mine, but I was wrong. Every time they always do "facetime," my mother's attention is always on her laptop, and mine? I'm just nothing. I always cry when mama and his husband are on "facetime." Every time my mama picks me up, his husband always says, "Put her down." My tita is always there for me, and she is very angry at my mother's new husband. Even though I'm just 3 years old, I already understand the situation.

When I was 6 years old, her husband got home from abroad on vacation for one month. My mama got pregnant for their first son, who is 15 years old now. When I was in 5th grade, I felt something wrong about my mother's husband—the way he stared at me—something was wrong, but I didn't mind it. Until I was in 6th grade, he harassed me. I've had trauma until now; anxiety has always attacked me. I don't want to communicate with others because I'm scared. I'm no longer going to explain this more because it's too complicated.

My childhood is not good; I don't have a lot of good memories of my childhood because I'm always at home, always do the housework, and at a very young age, a 5-year-old Shanly always does the dishes and cleans the house. They don't let me play outside if I can't finish the chores. I always think that it is unfair for me because other kids are playing outside while I'm just at the house. I don't have a lot of toys because they don't want to buy them for me, even Barbie. I always wanted to have a Barbie, but they always say that it's just a waste of money. They can afford to buy some remote controls and robots for my brother, but when it comes to me, it's just a waste of money.

Every time I see a kid like me who has a Barbie doll, I become jealous. How can they have a Barbie doll while I can't? How unfair is that? They have a lot of toys and can play outside, but I can't. But I always tell myself that it's okay; I can play with myself and make my own toys.

Now, I have two brothers, one 15 years old and one 7 years old. I am very grateful that I have them. And I am thankful that they never experienced what I did when I was a kid. Well, we all know that life is hard and challenging. Just always put your trust in Jesus Christ; everything will be alright, and everything will be fine in His name. He will always guide us.

Thank you for reading...

[brain-damage-culture]

So, this. I was homeschooled, and I will say. I did meet people who had legitimate reasons that homeschooling was better for them. Many had been in public school and were severely bullied, most due to disabilities. I myself was bullied relentlessly and my mom cites that as her reason for pulling me and my siblings out of school. (She was also enamored with the idea of downsizing into a trailer and traveling the country. Yes, with a newborn baby, two audhd kids, a dog, and her crumbling marriage) Here's how that went:

The thing is, I didn't stop being bullied when I was pulled out, I just didn't have any escape from the bullying happening in my home. I went from having a small group of friends and acquaintances and teachers to talk with to only my abusive mother, absent father, struggling little brother, and the baby I was raising in place of my mom. (She slept in the same bed as me for the first 6 years, I fed, bathed, changed, and entertained her)

Occasionally, we would fall in with homeschooling co-ops, but inevitably, drama would happen, and I learned not to get attached. I don't think I could name one single person I met during that time period if you held a gun to my head. The whole traveling the country thing didn't work out, and we went from having a house to camping or renting in small spaces. I was 12 when I started homeschooling, and I stayed at a 5th grade education level for the most part until I was 16. My mom soon stopped having any interest or ability to teach me, so I mostly just read and fucked around all day. It was boring and frustrating, I didn't have consistent access to the internet, and I fought with my family all the time.

My state doesn't require homeschoolers to submit a report card or have the children see a counselor once a year, or really anything. In 2015, my mom gave up on educating me and put me in a dual enrollment program at a community college for high schoolers, and that was what got me finally to something approaching my peers on an education level. It also finally put me in contact with adults who cared about me and wanted me to succeed, professors who checked on my progress and listened to my concerns. A library with an internet connection and nobody watching what books I was reading.

That school saved my life, and I don't say that lightly.

In 2017, a fellow homeschooler in my state was not so lucky. Matthew Tirado was a 17 year old nonverbal autistic kid who was enrolled in public school. His parents were repeatedly reported for child abuse, especially by his sister, until they took his sister out of school completely. Two months later, Matthew died. His sister didn't have any way of contacting outside help anymore, and her brother died because their parents knew that nobody could speak up for him any more.

I remember everyone else's horror, and outrage, and I remember my mom. The woman who had abused me when she knew I had nobody to go. She was scared. Because she still had my younger siblings, and she did not want to face consequences. So many homeschooling parents in my state did the same, and they fought hard to defend their right to abuse their kids. And they won.

To this day, in my state 36% of parents who pulled their child from public school in order to homeschool them did so *after* a Department of Child and Family Services (DCF) investigation revealed that they were abusing their children. That's more than one fourth. Once a child is pulled out of school in my state, there are no requirements accommodations, no therapy, no supports, and no accountability. Homeschool parents willfully practice 'unschooling' or buy curriculums from shady organizations that purport to provide an education that will turn their children into whatever parents want them to be.

Public schools aren't great. We all know this. Neither are private schools, in a different, equally fucked way. But homeschooling with no checks or balances, nobody even making sure the kids are still alive after they're out of the system? It's a level of nightmare I dearly wish nobody had to experience. And I got off so lightly.

Anyway enough lame gifted kid discourse we are in our 20s. Let's talk about how homeschooling in america should be fucking illegal it's insane lol

[ohtoburden]

thinking about my dad breaking down crying in the car while driving me to school when he and my mom were separated, and how he said he still loved her.

like, did he?

wouldn't he have listened to her when she talked about how his family was treating her badly? wouldn't he have stepped in? wouldn't he have taken her side in enforcing punishment for us kids when we did something wrong? being the sole bread winner, when you agreed to that dynamic before marriage, isn't enough.

mom had the qualifications to work, she could have done it. she wanted to do it but she thought that if it was with dad, she'd be happy to have kids and be a stay at home parent.

and she cheated on him, because she felt he wasn't there for her emotionally, after all those years. it's it cheating if you don't feel like the relationship is real anymore? if you feel abandoned in it?

i mean personally yeah, it's cheating. have it out with the man and leave him, christ. but also i sort of understand her.

i don't know what kind of love has you so absent from your relationship, so unable to communicate or change or compromise or discuss when possible are first brought up, but then somehow has you break down to your kid about years later.

also man, i don't know what an appropriate relationship with your parents is supposed to be like, but that moment was so baffling. i always thought my parents were ill-matched. that they got into fights all the time. i didn't understand why they'd married. and i was a teenager dealing with so many issues, it just felt so stupid.

like, why are you breaking down to me, 16, currently suicidal, traumatised by your and mom's parenting, engaging in self destruction behind closed bathroom and bedroom doors. what on earth are you doing. what was i supposed to do with that? what was i supposed to do about it? we were on the way to school, for christ's sake. i had just a normal full day of classes ahead. i was 16. what the hell.

and now later as an adult. after my parents finally fully separated. before my dad found someone new to see. him coming to my room at 3 in the morning to check on me, but i'm always awake at those hours, so we end up talking. and we talk about his life and mine but in such a way that i am somehow basically a therapist.

who opens up to their 23 year old about being bullied in grade school, and that they've never told literally anyone else. not his parents, not his siblings, not his friends. how am i the first person you tell about this? that's so sad for him, that it took me for him to finally find someone to open up to. it took me being me, but also him not having a Wife he could pretend everything was ok with. that his lofe was exactly where he wanted it to he.

because as soon as he started seeing his new partner the pseudo therapy sessions with me stopped, of course. as soon as he started seeing her he was fine! i can't remember if i told him about the issues he gave me before or after he started seeing her, but that talk was in the daytime. you know, like a normal conversation. jesus christ.

[hyenadon]

Sometimes I think "hmn, am I autistic or am I just fucking weird?" bc autism explains away a bunch of weird behaviors in my life. But also I just don't fit a lot of diagnostic criteria. In any case though I just remembered a couple cases of me being a Fucking Weird Kid

this is just a personal vent post idk

When I was a very young child (5-6, maybe 7) one of my favorite things to do was organize my family's book collection/library by my own personal like. Organization system. Which has been updated frequently to this day and I think about constantly. When I was v young it was just alphabetical by authors last name. Whatever subject it was, no matter, alphabetical by last name. I distinctly remember crying when family members would put things back on the bookshelf in the wrong place

Over the years this organization system HAS shifted into something more reasonable so when I was living w my parents again I reorganized their bookshelves (they have so many books. They have read 1/3 of them. I dream of that life) and my system was: Classics/books they will never read is top shelf alphabetical by last name. After that it's fiction alphabetical last name. Bottom shelves are reference books: one bookcase is cooking/food/wine, other one is home/garden/repair.

If I ever go home to my parents again I will immediately check those fucking bookcases bc they never put their books back where they goddamn belong. THERES A SYSTEM, GODDAMNIT

I have a very specific system I follow for my own personal library and it's not at all alphabetical by author but it's like. It's. There is a System. Okay. It's a system.

Another game I played was Dictionary. It was a game where I read the dictionary. I was very invested in this. I actually thought it was a fun game and not just me sitting in the corner reading the dictionary aloud to my parents. I loved the dictionary game. If I had a physical dictionary with me right now, I'd still love dictionary game. Maybe this is why I still sometimes read wikipedia articles to fall asleep? Mm, dictionary. My favorite of the A words was Abdicate.

not a childhood thing but when I started having friends that were openly autistic, about 6-7 years ago, I was open w my parents about it and described these friends struggles w communication, eye contact, etc, and my parents were like "...so that sounds a lot like you....do you think.......maybe....you might be autistic????"

oh brian oh sheila. I still have no idea if i am autistic but there is somethin fucked in my brain that shoulda been diagnosed when I was like, ten, at most. It's depression or adhd or autism or somethin the fuck else. But y'all. You missed out on your kid having some serious mental issues. The kind that cannot be fixed with a hug. The brain is broken the brain has been broken since I was a wee little lad.

this isn't a weird kid thing but just like something i'm still mad about after all these years:

When I was little I was hyperliterate. Not even a brag just a fact. I mean I can exemplify this in a few ways but like. I was definitelt hyperliterate. But I wasn't like. Smart smart? if ya know what I mean? Being good at reading and writing doesn't mean you're good at analytical thinking or math or science. But my mom thought that bc I was good at reading/writing I should be in the advanced program at my school. So I tested into the program multiple times and failed multiple times. I think I switched into the gifted program around 2nd grade?

And y'all? I was the worst student in that program. Consistently. I was awful at it. I cried in math class. I was constantly embarassed because everyone around me was smarter and better than me. I wanted to drop out of school, be homeschooled. I have had really bad self esteem issues bc of school since I was so so little.

And when I was like 17 I was going through my old report cards for like. research on a poem I was writing. And I found out I didn't even pass the test to get INTO giftie program. I never passed the test, my mom just called in a favor to someone who worked in admin at the school.

Wouldn't it have just been easier for like....everyone involved? to write up an IEP? I could have been very very happy if I struggled a normal amount in math science etc and just got shifted to another class for reading/writing. I think I would be in a better mental place if that happened, I think I would have learned earlier that like. I don't have to be good at everything.

anyway whatever I should have been asleep two hours ago. gonna make myself some toast and sleep

[andswarwrites]

Day 1

So you want to know what a thousand words looks like and how long it takes to write it?  Read on. 

I remember hearing the groans when our English teacher in Grade 7 told us he wanted us to write a hundred words.  He then wrote out a paragraph on the board and told us: that’s a hundred words.  Up until that point I had counted pages, but he taught us to look at the words, because you can change the font size and make it seem like you have a lot of writing with pages, but numbers don’t lie when you’re counting words.

I've had six English teachers in my life.  Four of them were awesome, and two of them were not.  I have fond memories of English class.  I was taught at home from grades one to six, so my first English teacher was my mom.  She and my dad would bring me to a library that allowed children an unlimited pile of books, and I would take advantage of that.  From the age of three I was an avid reader.  I would come to the check out desk with a pile of books over my head, and the librarians would ask me if I really was going to read all of these books?!

To be honest, I would read about four or five of those books on the trip home.  If I was misbehaving, my mother would threaten me that if I didn't stop, I wouldn't be allowed to read.  There was a series of stories about a community of all sorts of different animals, and it was beautifully illustrated.  This series inspired me to create my own books.  My dad would bring home large sheets of paper from work, which I would fold in two and staple into a book, and then I would make my own illustrations and spin a tale.

When I was old enough to appreciate Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great by Judy Blume, I got inspired to write my own chapter book.  It was thirty-five pages, and I painstakingly colored the pictures.  At age twelve I read my first historical romance: it was Friday's Child by Georgette Heyer.  My mom had a whole shelf full, along with books by Nevil Shute and D. E. Stevenson.  Around that time I fell in love with Anne of Green Gables, as well.  Anne was just as talkative as me.

Of course, my love for historical fiction made me want to write a novel of my own, so that was my one hundred page summer project, which I showed to my English teacher.  The computer on which I wrote that book has long since perished, and I lost my one printed copy, which is just as well, because I am sure it would make me cringe to re-read it.  In my late teens I got an idea for a science fiction novel.  I worked on it but never completed it.  And by Grade 10 my English teacher was once again my mom, and she gave me a project.

Mom told me that I had to write a novel using the old adage to "write what you know".  Up until that point, from the books about animals, to the story of a little sister I wished I'd had, to the romance and the science fiction, my projects had been heavily laced with imagination.  I didn't really want to "write what I knew" at first, because I felt like what I knew was pretty boring and uneventful.  I did have a friend who lived close by, and she and I would hang out a lot.  We had a circle of friends.  I used this as a basis to write a story about friendship.

In my early twenties I hit a rut.  I wanted an original idea, and every time I sat down to write, nothing came to me.  Events were unfolding, however that would lead to my first success with Nanowrimo.  It took three attempts.  I was at home with my six month old baby, and while she would sleep I would write.  Completing that project gave me the confidence I needed to tackle a single sheet of loose leaf I had filled in pencil nearly a decade prior.  It was just the intro to a story, but I couldn't think of how to continue for all that time.

Here's the thing about Nanowrimo: once you figure out how to write a 50K novel in thirty days, it's somehow easier and easier each year you attempt it.  You figure out your own way of doing it.  But in 2021 I decided that in 2022 I would write 365K words in a year: an average of a thousand words a day.  They wouldn't have to be all fiction, but I would also try to write a novel.  This year, I'm writing a thousand words a day, but I'm keeping the fiction goals down to short stories when I feel like writing them.

I do have another idea for a novel.  It seems as though every time I write one, an idea for another takes its place.  It's just that I'm waiting for the idea to fully form in my mind.  You have to be patient with stories.  Sometimes you start one and you have no idea where you are going with it, and you're just along for the ride.  Other times, you've got a few pieces of an idea, and you have to wait to get more pieces to really get a clear picture of what the story will be.

I'm also watching my daughter become a writer in her own right.  She has tons of ideas for stories, she just has to choose one to stick to and complete.  I'm encouraging her to work on one this year, and write it until she reaches the end.  I've also got an idea for a story that we can collaborate on.  My mother is a writer, so my daughter is a third generation writer too.  She's currently reading that novel I wrote in Grade 10, and she likes it.  So, this was a thousand words, and it took me about two hours to write, with a lot of pauses to do other things.  I can’t think of anything else to say for now, so I'll stop here.