#BACK when I was in the 7th grade I was already a ball of anxiety
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realizing I really was mute back in middle school and those girls weren’t wrong
#numbers mumbles#BACK when I was in the 7th grade I was already a ball of anxiety#and I wouldn’t ever talk to people I didn’t know#and like. some girls from my pe class would sometimes try to engage in conversation with me. but like I was always just anxiously quiet#and eventually they just stopped trying bc one of them was like wait guys I think they’re mute so like they can’t talk back#and I thought the whole situation was soooo funny bc haha they don’t know I can talk. but like. I couldn’t. literally couldn’t talk to them#and I’m like. learning more about myself every damn day#bc I grew up with this and with the mentality of#I’m just shy and stupid that’s why I can’t talk#itS A SEVERE ANXIETY DISORDER JESUS FUCK.#and now I’m reflecting on being a scared anxious quiet little dude like him. maybe that wasn’t normal at all.#anyway selective mutism!!! I’m . i hate it so much!! it makes me feel so fucking stupid in every situation!!#I walk away crying from every attempt to speak up!! that’s not normal that’s very much not normal !!!!!!!!
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omg pls share the story abt the lecture from that girl’s dad (only if u feel like it) but seriously ppl it’s not that hard to put a mask on to help the spread of a virus. just wear it, it keeps u safe. and for the ppl who don’t care then just wait til it affects u, bcs covid isn’t a game. I just wish ppl were more serious abt it
Ok so sit down and buckle up kiddos and grab some snacks bc this is a helluva ride
Little background info: I have been a section leader for both my junior and senior years now. When the new freshmen came in my first year of being section leader I was hyped as hell. And then this new freshman whips out a lighter and lights it WHILE WE’RE INSIDE THE SCHOOL MIGHT I ADD with a straight face looking off into the distance before we ask her to put it away. She also always has a pocket knife on her that we found on the ground during band camp. I’ll call her POS.
I tried to like POS I really did, but then she turned out to be a bigoted racist asshole (she also drinks deer blood straight from the corpse and simps over jeffery dahmer so even more red flags). It was extremely hard for me to treat her like I did with the other people in my section, but I managed to treat her the same as the other people and avoided her for the most part (thank god she wasn’t in my subsection I would’ve actually gone insane)
Flash forward to this year. Covid was hitting full force and we had to quarantine for the first two months of our season setting us back by a lot. She was wishywashy about rejoining but as the most senior leader of my section my band director was on my ass about getting a straight answer from her and fast. So I kinda had to force her to give me an answer (which she told me she was doing it quickly which leads me to think she already knew she was doing it) so she already was going into the season hating my guts
When we finally had an in person rehearsal for the first time, she wasn’t wearing a mask so when I asked her where it was she looked at me like I was the dumbass and said in a matter-of-fact tone “it’s in my pocket” and pointed to the confederate flag bandana hanging out of her pocket. Those four words told me that this season was going to be a fuckin long one with her. I just deadpanned (she couldn’t see it tho bc mask, sunglasses, and floppy hat blocking my entire face) and said “I’d rather it be on your face. (band director and marching instructor’s names) will have my ass if they see you not wearing one.” She rolls her eyes and puts it on (at least it was over her nose)
A few months go by with me telling her constantly to put on a mask bc I am responsible for my section and I’d be damned if one of them got sick bc of one idiot being stupid that I could prevent. She is getting madder and madder with each passing rehearsal.
Band camp rolls around and it changed from 5 13 hour days to 15 3 hour ones and I am already done with her bs. We get our dots and I mentally groan bc she’s next to me for the vast majority of the show. She is between me (an asthmatic) and my close friend (vvv immunocompromised and also hates her, I’ll call her S) so now I’m more worried about covid going around the section. It was in this time that I find out that at least 5 other people out of 20 also have pre existing conditions that make them susceptible. So now I make it even more my mission to make her wear a mask.
It was in the middle of band camp when she is yet again not wearing a mask (we were just marching without instruments) and I turn to her and as kindly as possible (it was the second time that day) asked her to put on her mask. She once again rolls her eyes and says “ya know, (band director) walked past me 3 times and hasn’t said shit, so I think I’m gonna listen to him and not you.” S and another friend of mine looks over in shock cuz she just talked back to me. They were about to say something but I wove them off. POS wants to fuck with me? Fine. I’ll just go full force with this. She wants petty?? I’ll give her petty, I’ve been holding off all season.
So I’m marching there for the next twenty minutes quietly seething and counting more aggressively. She’s getting annoyed, but I pull the section leader card and tell her that she needs to be counting as loud as I am bc her feet was lowkey off time. After we break off for a gush and go (very short water break), I go straight to my band director and use my limited water break to tell him what she told me. He apologizes and says that he thought she was just taking a breather. He tells her to put on a mask and she does so and glares at me the rest of the rehearsal.
She blocks me on all social media and I obviously clown on her in private with the other section leader (he’s more of a pacifist and never really told her to wear a mask which kinda pissed me off but I understood) until she makes a passing comment to my other friend about using the knife she kept in her boot. Now he tells me cuz he’s a good friend and I’m shitting myself at that point bc holy shit I might get shanked.
I think about telling the band director but I realize that there’s no proof of her saying this and she could easily get out of this so it’s kinda pointless to tell anyone. Plus if she did shank me, she’d get into so much trouble and I’d be laughing at her from my grave/hospital bed.
Many rehearsals go by and she still refuses to wear a mask so after one rehearsal S and I went to the band director and reminded him about our conditions and told him about how we were worried for our safety (I also told him abotu the other vulunerable ppl in the section) and he says he’s gonna do something. Next rehearsal he gives POS a warning and she begrudgingly wears a mask for the rest of the rehearsal. The next rehearsal rolls by and she isn’t wearing a mask (again) and he sends her home. Major victory for S and I.
The next sectional tho was something I wasn’t expecting. I get there like 10 minutes before it starts like I usually do in a good mood. I get out of my car and go to grab my stuff when a massive white truck with a busted muffler pulls up into the parking space next to me with a cloud of black smoke. The window rolls down and reveals POS’s dad and POS herself in the passanger seat.
Of course I’m thinking that this is the day I die and start mentally preparing to yell for help to my other section members 100 feet away on the field already.
Mans starts to lecture me saying things like “it’s unhealthy to wear a mask outside bc it’s like a pitri dish under there. 6th grade science!” (I am not joking or overexaggerating with this, he actually said that). I really wanted to say “well, 7th grade science says otherwise, but you wouldn’t know that bc I’m sure you didn’t pass 6th grade, but go off ig” but I didn’t bc I didn’t want to get shanked or disappear randomly. I just tell him that I am only doing what my band director told me to do and that there are tons of people (myself included) that can really get hurt from just being in contact with covid. He says that’s bullshit and tries to tell me that I’m an idiot before I cut him off by telling him once again that I am just trying to protect my section and that the sectional was going to start soon so I didn’t have the time for this. I walk away leaving him trying to keep talking to me and soon enough POS gets out of the car and follows me to the field giving me a smug smile on her unmasked face before she puts it on when she sees the other section leader stroll up.
Lemme paint the picture for you: this guy (a 6′something burly guy in his 50′s that I know has like two felonies under his belt) pulls up next to me (a 5′2 17 year old ball of anxiety that drives a small yellow car) and starts to borderline yell at me. Traumatizing. I was shaking for the rest of the sectional and I spent the rest of the season looking over my shoulder looking for the glint of a knife swingin at me
Now I’m pretty sure she’s suspended bc she was caught with a knife on school property and she wore a confederate t-shirt to school, but I would be lying if I said I don’t still look over my shoulder or speed up when I drive past her house lmao
#hellion responds#i have so many other stories from marching band that i think yall would like#just ask and i'll supply : )
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Dangerous Minds
Those of my readers who haven’t known me long may not know that I was once a corps member of Teach for America. I taught 10th and 11th grade English for about 5 weeks, then I was told on a Friday about my “involuntary transfer” to another school in the district, where I’d be teaching 7th and 8th grade English instead. I went from having about 110 students to about 190. My classroom had no books (textbook or otherwise), no pencils, no paper, no markers or chalk, but it DID have one of those folding lamps that come out of the ceiling at the dentist’s office. The kids had been in there for 5 weeks with a rotating roster of subs; they’d done no schoolwork of any kind. I was teaching in a very poor area of the city, and my students were predominantly Black and Hispanic. One of my 10th graders wrote his first personal essay about getting shot the previous year. I say all this to tell you that when Chad asked that I review Dangerous Minds, the 1995 adaptation starring Michelle Pfeiffer of the true story of Louanne Johnson’s experience teaching in inner city schools in California, I was prepared to laugh it off as a cringey, Lifetime-movie representation of my experience. Is that what I got? Well...
For the most part, what I got was a ball of anxiety in my chest. It’s well-worn territory, obviously. A teacher bonds with their students from the wrong side of the tracks, and ends up learning just as much from them as they learn from him/her. Usually poetry or music features heavily as a tool that can set the students free from the depressing circumstances of their lives. Depending on the rating, usually a student dies, and the teacher learns just how Important their job is, so they commit to it even harder even though it pays no money and garners no respect from the administration who just doesn’t “get it.” But these cliches and stereotypes and broad strokes exist because at their core, they’re true, and they make me anxious and uncomfortable and I can’t laugh at them or Michelle Pfeiffer being a Nice White Lady because I’m too busy being angry about the systems we put in place that straight up abandon so many kids, all in the name of white supremacy.
Some thoughts:
Oh we’re starting right off the BAT with “Gangsta’s Paradise.” Fantastic news. Two things I associate so strongly with this song is skating around the skating rink in 2nd grade and buying the Weird Al cassingle of “Amish Paradise” and wearing it out.
Ooh, the score was composed and performed by Wendy & Lisa! Love that, you don’t see nearly as many film scores as you should composed by women.
God, the salary is $24,700 a year and Louanne acts as though that is appealing - I can’t tell if that’s because it was 1995 or because teacher salaries are so dismally low that this feels like a good salary?
This scene in which Louanne goes into her classroom for the first time and the kids are all shouting at her and getting in her face and sexually harassing her and throwing paper balls at her is giving me stress hives.
Also her friend Griffith (George Dzundza) saying, “You wanna teach, so teach! All you gotta do is get their attention” is rather disingenuous. Trust me, you can have their attention, and still not be able to teach.
I’m excited to see Sally-Can’t-Dance from Con Air as Raul (Renoly Santiago). He’s honestly fantastic in this, with a tough exterior but a sensitive and gooey inner sweet boy. All of the teens give pretty solid performances, but he’s a real standout.
I recognize this is based on a true story and Louanne Johnson’s lived experience, but I am not sure it’s wise for any teacher, regardless of grade or subject, to be teaching her students how to fight each other. Or taking them to dinner on what looks to outsiders like a date. I know some people have a problem with the bribery (giving her students candy for speaking up in class) but I have no problem with it - you get paid to do all the dumb stuff you don’t want to do at work, why shouldn’t kids be compensated for going to school if they don’t want to be there? External motivation goes a long way to building up internal motivation.
Mm I do love me some Courtney B. Vance, but he’s such a quiet, condescending ass in this. It’s a different vibe than I’m used to seeing in a principal in a movie like this.
Ooh, Griffith grading papers and saying “What a fuckin’ idiot” is a real mood.
“Since when has the Board of Education done anything for us? We barely get fuckin lunch” is legit. The lunches my students were served in summer school were some of the most horrifying things I’ve ever seen. One day it was spoiled milk, white bread, and pickles. And one of my students put his in a microwave that was hidden in the back of my classroom behind some dividers and left it for a week. And just so you know, as stomach-churningly awful as that sounds, the day I found “pickle man” as my student called him, isn’t even in my top 5 worst days teaching list.
I like Griffith, and I’m glad Louanne has a friend, but frankly I’m not that interested in these interludes between them - they really feel like they slow down the momentum from the scenes of her in the classroom slowly earning the kids’ trust. The pacing is kind of a mess, because the most dynamic sections all revolve around the kids in the classroom, and I feel like that only makes up about a third of the movie.
One thing I know for sure is you do not get in the middle of a fight between students. I have a friend who worked in the same district I did who interrupted a fight and got punched in the face because of it. And her principal blamed her.
Oh wow the way the soundtrack picks up when Emilio finally engages in the class is some kinda cheesy. And it continues through the rest of the scene to a distracting degree. Oh Wendy and Lisa, I hoped for better.
Can I just emphasize that to reach these kids, Louanne uses her experience as a LITERAL MARINE by demonstrating she can kick all their asses, and then she bribes them by paying for 25 kids to go to an amusement park for the entire day with her?
Also, even if they like and respect her now, I call bullshit at any scene in which ALL of the kids are A) sitting in their seats or B) silent, and especially C) both.
Um suddenly feeling some weird vibes with Louanne and Raul having a dinner date at this fancy restaurant by themselves. Also, the double standard here is pretty telling - there’s no way this scene makes the movie if Louanne had been a male teacher and Raul was a female student.
Wait wait wait, she’s also loaning Raul $200? Like, is this why I didn’t make it as a teacher? Because I wasn’t a former Marine taking students to amusement parks and fancy dinners and lending them money? I was 25 and could barely afford rent. Maybe teachers who have enough money to take care of themselves are better equipped to take care of others. Idk, I’m just spitballin here.
Oh “Gangsta’s Paradise” is happening again! We already heard the whole song over the opening credits but now it’s happening again about 3/4 way through. I mean this song is definitely the best thing about the film, so I get it, but it feels weird that they think we wouldn’t notice it playing to completion twice.
Michelle Pfeiffer is doing everything she can to make this movie feel less cheesy and more real. Like, you can tell she’s really trying with her performance. Of course, it’s not like the character is a huge challenge acting-wise, but she is definitely committed to the part and can walk the line of both accessible and tough.
This scene where Louanne tells her class she is not going to be there next year, that what happened to Durell and Lionel and Callie and Emilio made her too sad to stay has not aged well at all. And it’s certainly true to life, and I say that as someone who did the same thing. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s a reality - the fact that I’m a nice white lady is exactly the reason that I can choose to leave when things get too hard. Just because the kids convince her to stay at the end in this very rushed “all’s well that ends well” way doesn’t sweep this scene under the rug, and it shouldn’t.
Ope, “Gangsta’s Paradise” shows up one last time in the credits for good measure.
Side note: after the film, I researched Louanne, and she’s still teaching, which honestly made me emotional (in a good way). And I’d like to point out the racist ass bullshit the studio and screenwriter Ronald Bass pulled by changing the poems the students read to Bob Dylan lyrics when Louanne originally used rap lyrics from popular artists in ‘89-’90 to teach the kids about poetry.
Did I Cry? No, but I did get heartburn from anxiety flashbacks.
This genre of film is easy to mock and parody because it tells the same story and hits the same beats to the point that they’ve become cliche. Ultimately, the truth at the heart of the movie (which is the un-nuanced and candy-coated depiction of Johnson’s real memoir, My Posse Don’t Do Homework) is that high schoolers crave someone who will see them and validate them, someone who is willing to put in the effort. The quality of the package that truth is wrapped in varies, and this one certainly leans in hard on stereotypes that feel like cheat codes rather than any real illuminating depictions of living teenagers. But as cringey as it is to watch, maybe it’s not a bad thing to remember that all people - including those who are trapped in poverty and all the cruel injustices that entails - want to be seen and valued for who they really are.
If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.
#121in2021#dangerous minds#dangerous minds review#michelle pfeiffer#renoly santiago#courtney b vance#louanne johnson#movie reviews#film reviews#patreon review
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How about some h2ovanoss 21, “Quick! Grab that cat!”
Again, mess, but enjoy
H2O Vanoss: you have a timer written on the inside of your wrist that counts down to the moment you reach your soulmate. “Quick, grab that cat!”
“It’s gonna happen soon, right?” Evan tried not to move his eyes away from the music sheet he was working on when Brian dropped next to him.
“Maybe.” Because it was second nature to give vague answers that annoyed his friends. It was even more fulfilling when it came to the ticking time bomb nestled on the wrist.
“Stop being so… you. Its uncanadian.” Brian flipped his wrist without Evan’s permission, eyes eagerly looking around the park they’d inhabited for the day.
“Who else am I gonna be? You? Pass.” Even with the invasion of privacy, his attention stayed on the sheet, not needing to look to see there was less than two minutes on his countdown. In fact, he was pretty sure all of his friends in his group knew it; after all, he was the last one to find their soulmate. Brock and Brian met in the first grade, when their mothers had them get to know each other on a playdate. Marcel all but ran into his soulmate, Scotty, on the first day of 7th grade, and had been inseparable ever since. Tyler bumped into Craig freshman year, and took even longer for the tall grump to admit his clock wasn’t ‘on the fritz’.
So now, at age 20, Evan was the only one left. And his time was about to run out.
“So, which one do you think it is?” Knowing Brian was going to be too distracting to block out, Evan let out a sigh and turned his attention to the park around them. Lots of people were inhabiting the place on the sunny Saturday afternoon, which was holding the annual summerfest faire. Really, it could be any of the hundreds of people in the area. There was no rule that said they conversation had to happen; the person could just brush by and disappear just as quickly into the crowds.
“Maybe my timer’s on pacific time.” Evan joked, trying to mask his moment of panic at the thought. What if he wasn’t normal? There were cases of clocks being broken cause of early trauma or medical conditions. What if he was another rare accident? Maybe he didn’t even have a soulmate, which didn’t happen nearly as often, but he’d heard stories. There were so many possibilities of this not working out, that it was part of why he tried to keep his timer hidden under wrist bands and long-sleeved shirts any chance he got.
“Shut the fock up with that, it’s time.” And sure enough, Evan’s stomach dropped when he looked down to see the timer dropped under twenty seconds. Panicked, Evan tried to think of what to say when he met the person. Would they be a girl? A guy? Would they care what he was? What if they didn’t like his music? Could he handle a judgmental soulmate? And what if-
“Meow.” The sudden noise jostled Evan’s frantic mind, hearing Brian mumble a ‘what the fock-’ when a ball of fluff jumped onto the table. The pretty green eyes complimented the black and white coat of the feline, as well as the dainty green-diamond collar around her neck. She didn’t look bothered when she stepped over Evan’s papers to push into his space, comfortable in rubbing her wet nose along his chin.
“Well hello.” Despite the anxiety that once flowed through him, the brush of soft fur when the cat rubbed herself against Evan’s cheek made him laugh. “Are you my soulmate? Cause I don’t think that’s how this works-”
“Quick!” The loud exclamation startled Evan more than the relaxed cat, who’d rolled onto her back to expose her tummy to Evan. He glanced up, surprised to see a disheveled man pointing to his new companion on the table. “Gr-grab that cat!”
“Don’t think she’s looking to run, dude.” Brian’s hands were already reaching forward to rub the feline���s stomach, who purred at the attention given. Ignoring (or maybe too panicked to hear) Brian, the man came over, his hip bumping Evan’s shoulder to collect the cat into his arms.
Evan didn’t need to look at his wrist to know his time was up. He could feel in his stomach, the flutter of butterflies and the elevated heartbeat when looking up at the flushed face standing next to him. He was tall but not overbearing, with a ratty sweatshirt that had seen better days. His hair was a mess, but from how heavy his breathing had been when first appearing, Evan assumed it was from running after the cat. Blue eyes were both angry and sad as they stared at the captured feline, who didn’t seem bothered when batting the man’s sweatshirt string around.
“Why did you run away like that, Princess? Luke was meeting his soulmate an-and he couldn’t just leave but- but I was supposed to meet mine and you- I- you made it so I won’t never meet him!” Then the gaze flickered down to Evan, seeming to finally realize he had an audience from how quick his face flushed. “Oh shit, uh-”
“Hey.” He tried to make his wave casual when he lifted his hand, but turned his wrist so the timer (now saying he’d met his soulmate seconds ago) showed to the man. The eyes dipped to the number instantly, showing hope and disbelief for only a moment before flickering over to Brian. Realizing the misunderstanding, Brian snorted out a laugh before pushing away from the table, shaking his head.
“Alright, Evan, I’m going to find Brocky and tell him you found your idiot. God knows my soulmate worried more about your soulmate than I did.” The implication was beyond blunt when he glanced between the two, giving another cackle before leaving the scene. Evan felt flushed at the awkward exit of his friend, but he didn’t let himself soak in the feeling for long when glancing back to the stranger wearing an identical timer as him.
“Is she yours?” He asked, nodding toward the cat in the other’s arms.
“No! This is-I like dogs. But she’s- her owner, my friend- just my friend, he’s over with his soulmate and-and so I had to wrangle her. She’s princess and I’m-I’m Jon. Or, er, Delirious. Whatever you like to call me, really, I uh- I don’t mind!” And then, as if realizing how silly he looked, Jonathan dropped down onto the seat Brian had been sitting in and let the bundle of fur plop back onto the table. It was then Evan realized the truth; his soulmate was a disaster. Worse than him, which he hadn’t thought was possible. But it was perfect, and it brought a smile to his face without thought.
A smile that stayed for the rest of the day spent getting to know his soulmate.
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Holy shit, alright.
So, first off, hi. I’ve been having a tough few days because of various reasons that I may or may not get into in this post. I’ve been bottling up all of my feelings for too long and writing things down has always been easier for me than talking about them. Basically, this is me spilling a lot of my secrets so I can get them out of my head. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you expected or wanted from me, please skip this if you’re not okay with a post like this.
TW//: Talk of anxiety and depression, mental and emotion manipulation(?), mentions of death and suicide, and just dark shit in general. Proceed with a lot of caution.
Hello. My name is Malachi. That’s not my birth name but it is the name I choose to go by. I am a non-binary African American person that is trying their absolute best in the life I was given. Admittedly, I’m not fairing very well but I continue to try everyday.
I come from a fairly large family. 8 siblings in total, 1 on my moms side and 7 on my dads. My mom and dad never married, they broke up when I was five years old, and when my dad moved out, I stayed living with my mom. My mom is bipolar and manic depressant and my older sister, my moms daughter, was a spoiled brat until I was born. From very early on, my sister would constantly tell me that I ruined her life, that she wished I was never born, that she hated me, etc. Unfortunately for me, my mom wanted me and my sister to get along so I was always around her. She would read books to me and have me around all the time. Because of this, I’m pretty sure anyway, I grew up to be very gifted. I entered kindergarten a year early, and all of my school life felt easy. I was never challenged. Even the gifted classes I was out in were hardly anything to me. Now, I know this sounds like I’m bragging, but I take no pride in these words or my talents. I’ll tell you why later.
Growing up was surprisingly difficult for me. My mom was struggling to support both of us so we moved house a lot. We moved into our grandma’s house at one point. That was when it was the worst. My sister would constantly tell on me, but when I turned the tables on her, she’d beg me not to. She’d promise that she’d ever tell on me again, and then turned around and threw away said promise as soon as I let it go. I was the “problematic” child. My sister berated me constantly, telling me that I was bad at dancing and singing, which is still one of my passions to this day. It stuck with me. Everything does.
Fastforward to middle school. I had spent the last few years of my life with a less than agreeable sister and a difficult to approach mother. I’ll get into my father’s deal in a little bit. Elementary school hadn't been good either. I was at a higher level than lost of people, so I would occupy my free time with books. PE and outside activities never intrigued me as much as most kids, and so I was then deemed the class outcast all the way until about 7th grade. Up until 5th, I trusted others way too easily. Someone could walk up to me, tell me their name and say they wanted to be friends and within a week I'd be telling them all my secrets and family troubles. It was stupid really, but no one taught me any different. I was betrayed a lot, and everyone in our grade knew things about me that I'm embarrassed to admit. It was heartbreaking to 5th grade me. Why was everyone so mean?
I was always more of a tomboy, even as a child. The girls were too "girly" for me and the boys didn't converse with girls so I was, again, alone.
By the time I got to 6th grade, I had already adapted a system. Go to school, do well, read in your free time, go home. No friends, no acquaintances, nothing. It was how I kept my heart safe. And it worked for a while. Luckily, I moved schools when I came up with the system, so no one was too keen on approaching me in the first place. Then, 7th grade came around. And holy god, was it horrible. For some reason, I made a friend. Now, she was nice. Very nice. We bonded over Undertale, she was great. We're still friends to this day. But I kept her at arms length, cause I had just broken the system. That wasn't apart of the plan. Even worse, I made two more friends. And worse than that, I developed my first ever crush on someone. All of my plans were failing, my walls were crumbling. But when these walls fell, my heart grew weaker still, cause having friends isn't as great as it should be. Especially in middle school.
Our small group was riddled with mental illnesses, and we'd joke about wanting to die at least twice a day. It was how we coped, even though none of us made any effort to get better. It wasn't the best, but 8th grade was somehow worse.
Our group split right down the middle. Half of the group wanted nothing to do with the other half. And I was stuck in the middle. I liked everyone, they were all my friends. How could I possibly choose between them?
And then, as if things couldn't get worse, one of my closest friends in that group called me out. Apparently, I had become so dependent on them, on her, that I was becoming "too outgoing" and annoying, and she stopped responding to me. I had let her inside my walls and she still hurt me deeper than anyone else. I apologized profusely. I had gotten so used to not being a bother that losing her trust was one of my worst fears. It scarred me. I spent days sulking, just wanting to properly apologize to her. I wanted to hear from her, I needed to. Eventually she forgave me, but the damage had been done. That was when I had come up with a new idea. Another system. I didn't execute it, but the idea sprouted in the back of my mind.
8th grade was the year of my first panic attack. It was dumb, really. I woke up, got ready for school, and realized there was an assignment I forgot to do that was due later that day. I had had a perfect record. My homework was never late, and it terrified me to no end to think that my streak would end like that. I sat against the wall of my bedroom, covering my mouth and hoping that I was crying quietly, so I wouldn't wake my dad. No one to help me, no one to ground me. I was spiraling for too long. The only thing that snapped me out of it was myself. I had to go to school or I'd be late, that was how I got myself out of that darkness. Pathetic, I know.
High school was a different battle field in and of itself. Sophomore, Junior and Senior year were pretty good, so I'll only talk about Freshman year.
I was very scared of high school. All the middle school teachers said high school teachers were ruthless, mean and impatient. They kicked people out of class, out of the whole school. School had been easy but high school was different. The mere mention of it made me nervous. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned it before, but I have pretty bad anxiety. It's primarily social anxiety, but it gets bad at the worst possible times. I think I might have depression but I'm too scared to bring it up with my therapist, so that'll probably stay unsolved.
Freshman year wasn't very bad. It wasn't worse than 8th grade at least. What really got me was the workload. Self discipline, time management, all the mature people things that I had to learn. It made my anxiety skyrocket. I would be finishing assignments during lunch, mere hours before they were due. I was a rightful mess, on all accounts.
I had a big fallout with my dad, and that just made all of my problems worse. I'll get into that another time, seeing as this post is already too long.
Finishing high school was a breeze compared to earlier years. I made a small group of friends, many of which are onto bigger adventures in life. I haven't started college yet, but I haven't talked about what it is that I really wanted to talk about. The thing that's really been on my mind.
I'm nobody. I'm not just a nobody. I'm nobody. I honestly don't know who I am. My entire life, I had forfeited finding myself in favor of catering to others. I relinquished my personal freedom to make others life easier. I listened to everything my parents told me to do. No question, no complaints. I bend and broke myself to make my sister happy. I gave her so much of myself that I didn't have any left for me, yet she's still not happy with me. My friends don't know who I am. My mind is constantly thinking, I'm constantly drowning in dark thoughts and harmful words but they don't know. I hide it from them, I hid everything from them. I told them not to worry about it. And eventually, they did. It hurt. It stung. But it was my fault entirely.
My dad called me a robot once. I followed orders with feeling or hesitance. He was right. My constant thought process is all of my responsibilities. All of the things I need to do for someone else. Taking a break is impossible. Mt family needs me to function properly so they can live freely and without regret. I can't do that.
I can't eat what I want without making my mom angry in some way. I can't say or do or buy or receive anything without getting into an argument with my sister about how I'm somehow the spoiled one. Hell, I take a nap for too long and my mom gets upset at me. My dad is another ball game all on his own, so I won't talk about him right now.
What I'm trying to say it that my life isn't mine. My life is spent caring for others. Listening to other people over myself.
I'm horrible at taking compliments. I brush them off, deny them, pretty much anything other than saying thank you. It's not that I'm not grateful. I'm just tired of them. I've been showered with praise all my life, but it's bittersweet when you're taken advantage of every day. Taken for granted endlessly. They start to fade together.
Generic, everyday praise infuriates me to the highest level. Don't you dare say that cookie cutter bullshit to me. You think I haven't heard "oh you're so smart" before?? You think I haven't heard "you're beautiful" before??? I understand that you're just trying to be nice, but fuck off with that run of the mill fuckery.
Compliment me
How about you say, thank you for trying so hard for us?
Or, I see you helping out. I appreciate it.
Or, god forbid, you cab relax for once, I can take care of it.
Because god knows that I need a fucking break sometimes!
Oh, take a day off? Unless you want to come over here and handle my 101 responsibilities for this day alone, I suggest you shut that shit up right now.
Telling to take it easy doesn't fix the fucking problem.
One thing I know I do have are some major anger issues. That's not easily solved. None of my problems are.
At this point, I feel like I am my problems. Without my anxiety and my anger, who am I?
Who would I be?
Would I be better? Worse? Who would I have become?
I don't want help because help would change me. Help would get rid of me.
Whoever that me may be.
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7th of June, 2019
"The One with the Conversation"
[tw for anxiety]
Hiya, guys! I hope you all get to rest in the winter break, and celebrate, if you do Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Yule or anything of the sort. Anyway, today, I really started missing V, so here are some old stories I randomly remembered, that I thought I should tell you guys. This will be part one, there's another story like this incoming.
June 7th, ordinary day, near the end of school year, summer, fun. Everything's ace. Except for... that conversation. You see, about a week prior, we had to write this essay for V on "what it means to be human for me". And, after a long debate with myself, I chose to include my issues with anxiety and depression, as they're a pretty big part of my human experience. When I got it back, graded, I saw only a little question written next to the paragraph. "What's the story?" That's where the URL comes from.
On the 7th, after class is when I decided to tell her my story. I'll just quote the texts I sent to my friends, so you'll get the hang of what happened, because I don't think present day me could tell you more accurately than that.
To Pocketwatch Friend, translated from my native tongue:
"I hate when people feel sorry for me. And I know V will never say she feels sorry for me but I saw it. I forgot that those who love literature are some of the most emotional people, even if they don't show it. I didn't want help or pity, that's not why I wrote what I wrote. I wanted a civilised, mature discussion with a mature person I trust. And even though this was mature, I think half of it was just us trying to read the other's reaction."
"I didn't want her to think, I didn't want her to help, because if I don't help myself, we can't achieve anything, not even if a whole school stands behind me. I just wanted a chat. Of course I can't blame her or myself, it just went to shit..."
"And then she asks me if [our homeroom teacher] knows. Fuck, that poor woman would go into a cardiac arrest if I told her about this 🤡"
I didn't have to. She saw me break down. I had a serious anxiety attack in church the week after, on the last day of school. So I guess, she found out either way. But whatever. Remember what V asked me here. It's gonna be important later.
"I understand her reactions, but this isn't really what I was hoping for. She said goodbye to me saying that she will be thinking about this a lot. Then fucking think, but this isn't what I wanted! Of course everyone would be shocked at first, but..."
Then I went on rambling. Yeah. Pretty intense, isn't it? But doesn't contain some of the more important details I only remembered hours later.
Here's what I told my other friend, but only the things I didn't already talk about (direct quote, as we speak English w/ each other):
"I have [told her I don't need help]! And while she said it's a noble thing that I want to solve it all on my own, I have to be careful not to fall ill because of the weight of it. I told her it already happened, but I did pull myself back in Paris [long story]. Plus I got out of social anxiety on my own! If I could do that, I can do this too. I told her this as well."
"We also spoke about my inability to concentrate. [V in red, me in black.] "Despite that fact, you still do quite well in class." "Most of it is luck." *smile* "Do you think luck is all there is to it?" "Of course not. But a large part of it." "
So, yeah. Classic me, I could only remember the positive bits later, once I've vented the negative out (and went to this school-organised event, a kind of ball that afternoon to hang out with my friends). The texts to Pocketwatch Friend are from about 2 PM-ish, where the experience was still fresh, and the other two from around 10 PM.
We could say this is one of the main things that shaped my relationship with V. I mention us analysing each other's reactions, but really, we had never been more open. Me with everything I said, and her with the concerned eyes. She is really expressive with her gazes, that's why I talk about them so much. When she's concerned for you, you know it. It's evident. That's why the blog's title is "All the little ways she cares".
The other one... the quiet compliment, in that last one. She knows I'm smart, has known since day one. I remember texting my friend after my first lesson with her and saying "okay guys, I'm sure our middle school English teacher told her about me". She spoke about this grammar-related rule thing, and asked the people who understand it to raise their hands. Nobody did, as far as I remember. And V deadass said "I know Specs wants to raise her hand." I was baffled. How on Earth could she possibly know that, we haven't said a word to each other before!
But, to be fair, during that time I still called her "fox woman" behind her back, a silly nickname my classmates gave her in middle school because of her dyed red hair and many fox accessories (and, to be fair, her sharp facial features), as I didn't have enough respect for her yet to drop it. That only came about a month later. But that's a story for another post.
~ S ♡
[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]
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Runaway girl
#Repost
I became way more sexually active when I entered high school. It was as if I had a craving that could not be filled. The more I had sex the more I wanted sex. These girls lived, ate and dreamt sex. This put me on top of the sex chain in 7th grade. Being the only sexually active boy in the class had girls wanting my dick as if I was King. I never really paid much attention to the girls in my class even though I did eventually bang a few. I was more in to older girls who were much more mature and fully into sex. There was this real sexy girl who sat in my lap one day while heading to the town from school. She wined to every song that played, even gun songs lol. This made my dick hard as steel in my pants and everytime she felt it she looked at me and smiled. Keep smiling, I’m a fuck you soon real hard too. Unfortunately I had only said that in my mind lol. Kill me dead I said it out loud. I took her number and saved it as girl I want to fuck because at the time I didn’t know her name. I forgot I had her number until a few weeks later when I saw her in devotion.
Her: pussy, yuh style mi
Me: wat yuh talking bout
Her: yuh tek mi number an no link mi
Me: I forgot
She took my number and texted me same time so this way I would have no excuse not to text her back.
We text/sext all day that day and were on the phone for a long time in the night. I told her how I wanted to fuck her and she told me all the things she wanted to do. I wacked off to the thought of her getting all crazy and doing the shit she said she had planned to do. She promised a blow job like a vacuum and a ride like a rodeo. She planned to fuck my brains out. Wow, a blow job. I’ve never had one of those. Most the girls I was fucking thought that was nasty and claimed they’d never do it. Funny enough they were published year’s later sucking big black pipes lol. We met a few days later at the farm at lunchtime with intentions of her sucking on my snakehead. Anxiety ran through my veins like blood while I imagined what was to come. I had seen blow jobs on many occasions and always wanted to experience it.
By the time we started kissing I was as horny as a monkey for a banana and she was gonna be the monkey eating the banana lol. All this shit was about to go down. I started fingering her while we tongue wrestled. This chick was great at kissing, she made it feel like it was better than sex. She braced her pussy on my leg and slowly moved her waist. If I didn’t know better I would say she was already on my dick. She pulled my zip down and took out my rod.
Antoinette: wow, is this your birthmark?
Me: yeah it is
Antoinette: how did it get there lol
Me: I have no idea but I’m glad that’s where it is
Antoinette: I love it. It’s like strawberry chocolate.
((((Muah))))
She kissed the head 😮. My other head exploded with excitement and my knees got shaky. ((((muah)))) She kissed it again but this time it was a long sucking kiss. She slowly ran her tongue around the rim of the snakes head as if she was trying to separate it from the rest.
Me: Oh….. My….. God….. (((Heavy breathing))) it feels………….. So….. Weird….
Antoinette: Told you it would blow your mind. Relax and let me take care of you. I tried, real hard but my legs kept shaking. She started sucking while stroking. Slowly my dick slid down her throat; you know that feeling you get when you go really high on a swing or fast over a bump while in a car. Lol. That’s how I felt, like I was running out of breath. Shit, I had to beg her to stop. Lol I couldn’t hold the feeling, I literally felt like she was sucking my life out.
Antoinette: you don’t like it?
Me: Idk, it feels too good lol
I could see the disappointed look on her face as if she wished she had an undo botton to take the blowjob back. I loved it to be honest but I just wasn’t sure if that’s how I was supposed to feel. I was running out of breath and it would be a real disappointment to die while getting a blowjob 🤣. Who does that? Still horny as ever I decided I was gonna fuck the disappointment off her face. I bent her over on a desk top while I tried forcing my dick in. As wet as she was her pussy was tight. I kept poking her slowly until the head finally slipped in. A deep moan was the response.
Antoinette: ((((ouch)))) nuh mash it up now
Me: shhhh 🤫
With 1 hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist I slowly stroked her. As soon as she got super wet and I started making love to the pussy my friend came.
Steve: yow, a time fi class. Di oda pikni dem a come.
She flipped off the dick and got herself together. As for me, it wasn’t that easy; my dick was way too hard to bend lol 🤣 it took me minutes to get it down and turn it long way in my pants. It was so obviously stiff I had to put my bag across my waist. She kissed me on the cheek and walked away with smirk 😏on her face. Lucky for her she came; unfortunately for me, I had a dick as hard as steel shooting across my pants. Sigh, fuck my life. When I got home she had sent a long message, some shit going on at home.
Antoinette: Hey, I’m home. I wanna talk to you about something. I feel like running away. I don’t even know where I’m gonna go but I’m tried of my mom. She keeps stressing me out. Blah blah blah and more blah blah that I don’t remember. Can I come stay with you?
Of course I thought she was joking. Random bulshit talk to start a conversation.
Me: Yes babe, you can come stay with me whenever you want.
Antoinette: Ok, I’ll come weekend.
I had forgotten we made plans for her to run away because as I said I thought it was a just joke. Friday evening here she comes with 2 big bags 😮. I was shocked out of my life. Is this girl serious. ”A wanda if she lick her head”.
Me: Babes I didn’t know you were serious about this. Why didn’t you tell me yesterday you were coming for real?
Antoinette: Why would I be joking? I told you I need to get away from my mom. Are we going to your house or not?
I thought for a second, what’s the worst that could possibly happen. Other than dying while getting a blowjob there was nothing holding me back lol 😂. I called the helper and told her to cook extra because my friends are coming over. We chilled at the game shop for awhile the headed home. Even though I always brought girls home no one ever caught me in the act. I went in first then pulled her through back door of my room like always. She fell asleep the moment we got settled, I guess she was real tried. I took me a shower and got us some food to eat. She kept smiling as if she was about to propose; as if she had woken up to prince charming and breakfast in bed. By this time everyone else was sleeping so she went and took a shower. I had always seen this girl in her clothes and considered her a trophy but seeing her naked was on a different level. Remember that feeling you had when you got that Christmas present you always wanted when you were a kid. That’s how I felt when she took the towel off.
Antoinette: I hope you don’t mind me sleeping naked
Me: Not at all 😏 I sleep naked too lol
Instantly I took my clothes off and dived into bed. She laid beside me and for a second I acted like wasn’t greedy. Unfortunately, my dick holding up the sheet gave me away. She pushed her hand under and massaged it slowly while kissing me on my neck. My body got confused as she slowly kissed my sides and my legs. Chills ran through my body as if I was taking an ice cold shower. I couldn’t stay still for not even a second. She so gently slid her tongue all over the candy stick before wrapping around d edge of the head. I wanted to scream, I wanted to laugh, I even wanted to run. But my fucking legs were so weak I couldn’t even stop shaking. If I didn’t know better I’d say I had a nerve problem lmao😂. She sat on my dick with her hands squeezing my neck. Swiftly she moved her waist while I gasped for breath with her tits in my mouth. Her cum dripped down my balls while she shaked and made her face up. This girl had the weirdest look on her face when she was cumming lol I couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes she even looked like she was constipated 🤣. We fucked like animals all weekend long. And during this time no one knew she was there until Monday morn before school. I got carried away fucking her in the bathroom. She screamed out while I was striking her from back. Not even realizing what just happened, the helper pushed the bathroom door.
Helper: 😮Bouyd. What the hell is this?
Me: 😮
Antoinette: 😮
Helper: Who is this?
Me: My friend from school
Helper: young miss yu need fi find yu yard right now.
Antoinette walked out the bathroom without a word while the helper kept talking. As far as I can remember she kept staring at my dick the entire time she spoke. I think she was jealous. When I got home from school the helper came to my room to talk about what happened. She said it’s ok to bring girls over but I just gotta be discreet. She had just given consent to the devil to be evil lol. What she didn’t know was Antoinette was in the closet 😂 patiently waiting for her to leave. She stayed the entire week and planned to stay another. It’s as if we had forgotten she ran away from home. I was in class the day the cops and her parents came. They threatened to send her to juvi if she didn’t tell where she was all this time but she didn’t rat me out. I didn’t hear from her for about a month because they had transferred her to a school in Kingston.
Antoinette: Hey Bouyd, I miss you. I just got my phone back. Blah blah blah. Can I come see you?
Me: I miss you too and I can’t wait to see you. When can you come?
Antoinette: Today
Me: Ok
I went to meet her only to see her with a big travelling bag 😮🤦♂. I didn’t even bother to ask why she had it lol my guts said it all. This girl just ran away again. I called the helper and told her to except a visitor. For some reason I just knew this girl was not going home anytime soon. I didn’t even think about the consequences that followed this encounter. The helper and her became friends within the first week. I came home to dinner and a damn sexy chick each evening. Even though it was summer I always had some where to be. Life doesn’t get better than this. Her mom and cops kept calling but we didn’t give a shit, for all we cared we had each other. My aunt came to visit one day and realized she was staying with me. She believed in being 30 before having sex. This woman wanted no one there even though she didn’t live there. I came home to an empty bed that night 😞. A broken heart in my chest and emotions I couldn’t control. I cried like a baby. I called her for weeks but got no response 😞. I became an emotional wreck. Being robbed of my happiness and the one thing worth living for at the time made me a monster. I didn’t even wanna hear about another relationship. It was already too late when I realized I had fallen in love with her. I was so fucked up I didn’t even have sex for 6 months. I poured my heart out in a message one day only to get a reply saying;
Hi, my daughter already has a boyfriend here and she does not wish to speak with you. I would like for you to leave her alone. No calls, no text no nothing. Thank you. Or something close to that effect.
Shit, why me. Was I not eligible for love, don’t I deserve to be happy too? This even made things worst. Sex became a sport for me. No feelings, no attachments just random hits. She had left a Mark on me or a curse as I used to call it. I ran into her a few months later at champs. So surprised to see me she jumped in my lap and started kissing me. I didn’t even remember I went with someone that day; we headed for the bathroom where shit got real. So anxious for each other we both came several times in no time. It was like epic make up we could get caught sex. The adrenaline was way too intense to bare. I was so beat out I could hardly catch my breath. We stayed there in the bathroom for a while and talked about shit. Not shit shit but life shit. Turns out her mom had taken her phone and she had no idea about the message. She just kept crying when I told her. A fight started in the bathroom between her and the chick I went with. I had totally forgotten her, shit. I had to part the cat fight before it got out of hand. And these girls had the audacity to turn on me 🤦♂. I was so damn tired from fucking and trying to part them I could hardly defend myself. Lol, I got myself a black eye to take back home; I guess it was the consolation prize. I had won myself a fuck and a black eye but again lost Antoinette. I didn’t even get her new number.
I found her on Facebook a few years back. I doubted it was her until I read her post: ”I remember when I ran away, best time of my life. B.A.S I hope you’re happy where ever you are”. I messaged with high expectations of banging her again. Unfortunately she was no longer in the country and she was engaged to be married. She had changed and I was happy for her. Who thought my runaway girl would ever get married. Shit, she looked like a queen in her dress; she slew that wedding. I ain’t heard from her since. Guess she ran away for good this time. Either way, she’ll forever be my Runaway girl.
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My spiritual war began half a lifetime ago. And I will carry it on even after I'm dead one day. Ω
Most people are raised with a religion or beliefs.
Some of them lose faith. Some become atheists. Some stay where they are in believing.
I I suppose I haven't fully stopped believing in a spiritual power/experience.
Call it the "God Gene" (VMAT2) or illogical stupidity, But I just can't purge that notion from my head.
According to the God Gene Hypothesis: "Spirituality is supposed to provide an evolutionary advantage by providing individuals with an innate sense of optimism."
I do not feel that optimism that there is a God or sentient universe out there. Or that "God has a plan".
I feel unspeakably betrayed.
When I was a young kid. I think I was very well behaved. I cared. I had a great heart. If that wasn't good enough for any god. Then they don't follow their own teachings.
When I got to middle school. I was scared. Three local schools were merged all my friends were lost in the shuffle. I thought it'll be difficult to make new friends, but I had hope.
Well, that hope wasn't lost. It was gouged out and raped from my spirit. Not just spiritually but my spirit of hope caring and goodness.
The bullying. They called me faggot, poor boy, foreigner (born here but was given a "foreign" name) on and on. They spit in my books. They knocked my books out of my hands everyday, between every class. Choked me, beat me, spit on me. There wasn't just a group, the group spread rumors and enlisted others in their attacks on me. Even my old friends from elementary school abandoned me because association with me was repugnant to their social standing. I once saw a buddy from elementary and said hello at his locker only to be ignored like I didn't exist.
Those 2 years of middle school left me completely empty. I remember I went to sleep every weeknight praying to die in my sleep. Ashamed at how that would hurt my parents if it came true. Then I would be woken up for school the next morning secretly crying because I was still alive and had to go through another day.
If there was a gun I would have gladly killed every one of those motherfuckers who were bullying me.
Especially Chas. He was the one who got the ball rolling on my destruction. How a dickhead who was seemingly proud of his failure of the 7th grade the year before I came there had such social clout with these pieces of shit I'll never understand.
High school was hell, but it slowly matured. Not without its own degrading moments where I was bullied or attacked or pushed down or spit on. But I think those who were there were preparing for their college or next step.
My grades were average. My spirit was broken already. My hope was nowhere. I was lucky to graduate probably.
I'm no longer normal. Those years of abuse at school changed me irrevocably. Everyday for 2 years. Non-stop. Physical, emotional, mental, pen tips pressed into the back of my neck till a bled. A pen cap pushed into my ear luckily it didn't hit my ear drum.
Principals, counselors, nobody did anything. Anything they did do was either a warning or giving me a punishment for retaliations.
I was punished for someone abusing me.
So I dropped out of local community college after a spotty 2 years. Continued schooling just came with anxieties and fear. I'd already had my life's share of that. I needed surgery and after I just let go of further education. Of a career of any kind.
Now I'm 33, soon to be 34. And these things that have effected me since half my life ago still affect me today. Call it C-PTSD or anxiety or trauma, social phobia, agoraphobia. It's all the same to me.
The bullies are gone but make no mistake theyre haunting me.
So where the fuck was God?
Where was his miracle for me?
Why didn't he spilt the red sea for me? I'm not as important as Moses. Where was his warning that I should build a boat like Noah?
No burning bush, no "hey Abraham, go kill your son", nothing. Not from this god or any fucking god.
Not once.
But some stupid genetic marker (VMAT2) anchors me to believe?
In the years since school I went through the divorce of my parents which was particularly hard if you knew me you'd understand.
My dad needed a 2nd open heart surgery which led to a big stroke from a clot that broke off. His arm and leg that were effected mostly came back. But his mind was effected permanently. The parts of the brain that were injured left him with memory problems. He couldn't live on his own, he'd already come back home with my mom and me before that to live with us after a hard hip replacement surgery.
Then I went through my mother's surprise lung cancer diagnosis, surgery, and so far no signs of it returning. Luckily it was found early after she had a cold and cough they wouldn't go away and got a chest x-ray.
Now my dad 4.5 years after his stroke and ongoing memory problems, he woke up yesterday the happiest man who ever lived, he had so much love and kisses and hugs to give.
But shockingly he completely forgot who I was. He thought I was a visiting neighbor. He forgot who my mom was. But he was happy to meet his son and wife for the first time again in this new place (it's the same place and the same people he'd always known before).
But I am crushed. I'm so deeply affected. He's happy and jolly enough for 3 people to meet us...
But my mom and I are very sad. It's such a shock. While he is thankfully happy and comfortable with his 'new family' that we are. I've cried more than my muted emotions have let me cry in the last 15 years.
He told me he's sorry that he missed being part of my life before now. Nothing cut my heart up quite like that. He apologizes for not knowing or recognizing me.
I've been betrayed by God all my life or at least that VMAT2 gene chemically telling my brain there's a higher power.
I'm just not important enough. No miracles to help me get out of this PTSD or my other medical issues. No reprieve from these life threatening illnesses my parents got one after the other. And now my father doesn't know who I am anymore.
Maybe god like those bullies just hate me too? If were created in his image then he's as capable of hate and torturing as we his human creations are.
After all he made a bet with the devil that Job in the bible would keep the faith in God no matter what god did to him. He gave him diseases, killed his livestock, killed his family with sickness, and burned down his house. But the dumb motherfucker still loved god.
He gave him all be house, animals and family after the ordeal, but the other wife and children didn't deserve to die for a bet. "But they went to heaven". They still had potential energy, lives to live grow old and have their own families, but "God" killed them to prove he was right in bet to the devil. That an idiot would still love him after all that.
So maybe I can't stop believing in God, or have some leftover spirituality.
But I'm not as fucking forgiving ad that dumb motherfucker Job. But I'm also not willing to just walk away from God's game. I'm more than ever cemented my hate for God. I'm giving the devil sympathy or joining his side. If there is such a thing.
I'm instead giving God - ALL MY HATE.
I've got infinite amounts of anger and hate in me. For every millisecond of my torture in school I hate those pieces of shit, at one point that was all that kept me from killing myself. I'm filled to overflowing.
Now there's nothing and no one I hate more than God. I don't care about abortion, I don't care about pollution, I don't care about animals raised in cages and mutilated.
My dad is apologizing to me for what his stroke did to make him forget me. He's apologizing to me with regret, shame and love in his eyes for something that's not his fault.
WHERE IS GOD!? hmm? His love and miracles? His bullshit?!
God. Guardian Angels? Any God or Goddess. Any religion, pagan gods, gods that we don't even know existed. Where are they? Spirits? Demons? Satan himself? Useless.
I have declared a war on God deep down in my soul. I'm not here to preach or change your religion, make you an atheist or garner views or to promote the devil.
But rest assured I am going to kill God. My determination is absolute.
Not in a social or political sense, I'm not going to become Nietzsche 2.0.
I'm going to prepare my heart and soul. My physical body, my mental attitude, my spirit, my soul. My life might go until I'm 120 years old and I'm fine with that.
But God will know fear because I will teach it to him. God has a death wish and I'm that wish come true.
You think Abu Ghraib looked terrible? What I do to God will make that seem like a Kumbaya summer camp.
I don't know what god is, what makes a deity, fucked if know if such a thing even exists. But I will torture, maim, and kill God.
These neo-pagans with their "All Gods are one God."
That's fine by me. Get the all Gods in one place so I can kill that motherfucker with a smile on my face. Even if he's holding the universe together, like Atlas holding the world. If it means the end of all things then I'm more than satisfied to end reality.
If there's a physical aspect to him on some spiritual realm or whether it's simply a psychic thought of the living mind or some genetic predisposed delusion. Maybe I've lost my mind too, maybe there's nothing left but my madness.
My wrath makes God in the old Testament look like a spoiled 3 year old child. God will get what's coming to him.
He is mine and I am his.
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"Nor sleep, nor sanctuary, being naked, sick, the prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice shall lift up their rotten privilege and custom against my hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it at home, upon my brother's guard, even there, will I wash my fierce hand in his heart."
—AUFIDIUS; Shakespeare's "Coriolanus"
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"I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee."
—Caius Martius Coriolanus; play of the same name.
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Wakanda Got Y’all Pt. 3
[Black Panther x Insecure Mashup]
Word Count: 2.5K
Part 1 Part 2
A/N: I think I got one more chapter in me to close this little series out! So enjoy this and the finale coming soon!
Issa and T’Challa met at the community center to begin their work with the neighborhood. Today, with Issa’s help, they would start the recruitment process for their after-school program. They unloaded boxes with brochures and fliers and applications onto their tables.
“You think you got enough to go around?” Issa asked jokingly at the pile of papers in front of them.
T’Challa looked around slightly panicked, “Oh, do you think we may need more? I could call up Nakia to go by the office-”
Issa waved her hands, “No, no! I was kidding. We probably have too many honestly. People don’t usually show up to these things until school actually starts, you know, typical students.”
T’Challa clicks his tongue, “Well, if we get one, it would be an accomplishment.”
They take their seats at the table to wait for their future members. The outside of the building was lined with signs and balloons announcing their grand opening, but as time passes, Issa began to wonder if she this was a waste of time.
She pulls out her phone to look through her socials but sees a notification for a new text from Molly. She is supposed to be seeing Erik tonight.
M: What do smart thug niggas look for in their girl? Should I be professional lookin or a little thotty?
I: Uhh, I don’t think he would turn away thotty at all. How much do you want from him?
M: You think I’m getting money from this nigga?
I: No! Like are you wanting to DTR or DTF?
M: Girrrrl, ain’t nobody tryna get in their feelings over here. I could smell his intentions a mile away, it’s just a matter hosing down my garden.
Issa snorts, causing T’Challa to look at her confused. “It’s just my friend…” Issa says trailing off. I: So our pussies require lawn work now?
M: Shieet, I already got my trim, bedazzled the shit, now all it needs is moisture!
I: Ok, I’m gonna throw up. Peace.
“Is your friend the one from the bar?” T”Challa asked.
“Oh, yeah, you seen her. Molly. Your cousin is supposed to be taking her out or something.”
T’Challa makes a noise. “What?” Issa asks.
“Ahh, it’s nothing. Just...Erik is pretty known to be a ladies man, practically prides himself on it.”
Issa shrugs, “Oh she could tell that! She has her list of guys too. I mean, you know, she ain’t a hoe or nothing but, she’s a lawyer so she won’t be worked around I’m sure.”
T’Challa nods, “Good, sounds like they’ll have a good time. Thank you again for welcoming us into your program. I am glad that we can guarantee your roster of students as an option to take advantage of our amenities.”
“No problem, T’Challa! It’ll be good for them to get a change of environment from what they are used to.”
A mother and two girls walk into the center.
Issa greets them happily. “Hi! Thanks for coming! What brings you here to see us?”
The mother plops down in a chair in front of them, looking exhausted. “Yeah, what’s your hours for the after school stuff?”
T’Challa hands a brochure to her, “From 4-7pm. Are these your daughters?”
The mother takes the brochure to fan with, “One is mine, the other is my niece.”
They both talk to each other in low voices and cackle.
T’Challa asks, “How old are you all?”
“I’m this many.” one with afro puffs holds her hand out, fingers balled together.
T’Challa looks at her hand intently, “I don’t understand…”
Issa sees it and instantly rolls her eyes, “Come on, y’all.”
“GOTTI!” the girls exclaim, high fiving each other.
Issa turns a smile back on, turning to them, “What grades are you all in?”
Afro puffs crosses her arms, “I’m in 7th.”
One with a struggle ponytail says, “I’m going into eighth.”
T’Challa asks, “What are your favorite subjects?”
Afro puffs looks T’Challa up and down, “Sex ed.”
T’Challa looks at her horrified. “Uh…”
The mother/aunt pops her. “Girl, shut yo ass up! Quit being rude! Sorry, she got her mama’s fast ways.”
“Oh, so she is your niece?” Issa asks.
She looks at Issa like she is crazy, “No, that’s my daughter.”
Issa shakes her head shooketh as T’Challa cuts in, “Well, we don’t offer that right now…”
“...or ever.” Issa adds.
T’Challa clear his throat, “Right, but we specialize in the sciences, math, history…”
Struggle pony asks, “What kind of history do you teach? I don’t know nothin bout Africa.”
T’Challa chuckles, “No, we would stick with American, but we do have African american studies tutor if you need that.”
Afro puffs simulates a hair flip. “I’m plenty Black, Prince Joffer. But history might not be on your side.”
Issa whispers, “What do you know about ‘Coming to America’?”
“You’re talking too much, little girl.” The mother/aunt cuts in on afro puffs.
T’Challa questions, “What do you mean, little miss?”
“You shoulda came here when Obama was President man, getcho citizenship.”
Struggle pony adds, “Mhm, this is Trump’s America now. No matter your papers, you gettin kicked out.”
“AND you Black? Pssh, if the police don’t get you first, you’d be lucky.”
Issa butts in once more, “Well you girls really know your stuff on current events, so you probably won’t need anything but proofreading your reports.”
“You sayin my babies can’t read?” the mother/aunt asks offended.
Issa stammers with anxiety. This was not a smooth start. “No, not at all, but everyone could use some editing help for grammar and punctuation on papers-”
“Uh huh, come on. I don’t know what someone who’s first language isn’t english can teach my kids.”
“English was my sixth language, to be specific.” T’Challa adds for shade.
“Well, whatever the hell! I don’t get why some African had to come in to help a community he ain’t knowin shit about!” She turns on her hills walking out.
“Bye Mr. Joffer!” Struggle pony exclaims flirtily.
“Niggatrynafucksayswhat?” Afro puffs says while backing away.
T’Challa looks at her leaning his ear, “I’m sorry, wha-”
Issa slaps her hand over T’Challa’s mouth, “Have a good day girls!”
Taking your hand away, T’Challa wipes his mouth, “What was that for?”
Issa sighs. The best and brightest really came to show out for you all “Listen, these kids will play some weird ass tricks on you, because of fun. Torture is their pastime, right? So you have got to stay more alert and less trusting with their ways, T’Challa.”
He nods, “I have a jokester for a sister so I understand young people and their games. But I couldn’t grasp what they were even talking about.”
“Welcome to being an elder millennial! These gen Z kids are going to burn the world to the ground, I swear.”
You and T’Challa had sat there for a couple more hours and saw a handful of less colorful folk. It was finally time to break things down.
T’Challa helped Issa with the table. “So, what got you into this kind of work?”
“Well, although I don’t make much, I needed the paycheck after college and it was open and hiring at the time.”
T’Challa nods, “Nothing wrong with that for a start.”
“But I also wanted to help people too. I think I found that out as I got into it. These kids are crazy a lot of the time. Disrespectful, ignorant, smelly-”
“But?” T’Challa asks with a smile to move you along.
“Right! BUT, they are basically all me. No one cared about kids from my side of town. We didn’t get great field trips or outstanding class options. I remember every time we had a debate team or math league enter a tournament, we could never get further than the first round because culture shock! Their schools were bigger with vending machine that had school supplies and full sandwiches, we didn’t know how to act! So, I just hope that our program can expose them to the best, so they can work to build that and maintain it for themselves.”
T’Challa looked at Issa in awe, “That is a beautiful sentiment, Issa. Very well put. I knew we had a good thing going when I met you.”
Issa smiled, “Yeah? Me?”
T’Challa nodded, “Of course! You have been nothing but professional, and getting to know you more in your element leaves me quite starstruck.”
Issa felt light with his compliments, so genuine. “That is possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, especially on the job.”
T’Challa laughs, “You deserve it and more. Are you through for the day after this?”
Issa thought to herself, “Uh, yeah, I think so. Probably just goin to do some chores or whatever.” Issa know she didn’t wanna clean.
“Maybe we should catch a movie or something? Blow off some steam for a job well done.”
Issa said excitedly, “That sounds great!” Issa hoped this was a step closer to getting with him. He was so fine and nice, no way she would fuck this up.
--
Molly sat in a booth at the Waffle House with Erik, kekeing the night away. Erik told her all kinds of stuff about his college years and time in the military. She learned he was even an amateur pilot in his spare time.
“I need to take you around sometime.” Erik said after snapping into a sausage link.
Molly screwed her face up, uh uh. Those are the planes you always here engulfing in flames and crashing, an engine breaking down and crashing, the pilot was high and crashed it-”
Erik laughs, “Well you ain’t gotta worry about alladat, ma. I’m good, just gotta put a little trust in me….like I’m tryna put a little trust in you…”
“Tsk, is your dick named Trust?” Molly inquired.
Erik paused, “Nah, but my tongue never lies.” He says with a wink.
“Ok, nigga! You swear!” Molly joshed him but loved every minute of it. Even though they were in a regular degular spot, she loved it. It felt like college again and you got the finest Alpha in line to ask you out.
The bell at the front door rings as it opens. You hear a loud familiar cackle.
“Kellie? What the hell you doin here, girl?” Molly asks surprised.
Kellie walks in under the arm of M’Baku with a slight limp. “Ooh, hey girl. Can we pop a squat with you all a sec?”
Molly nods as Erik greets them. “Wassup, Bak? You and ol’ girl still hanging?”
M’Baku beams as he holds Kellie’s hand. “Yes, very much so.”
Molly leans over Kellie, “Whatchu got a limp for, girl? You fall or sumthin?”
Kellie nods sticking out her lip pitifully, “Mhm, you ever try to come off the dick too fast, before you figure out your hip flexors ain’t quite relaxed yet? Yeah, I pulled somethin girl, talk about cow tippin!!” Kellie cackled, tongue all out. M’Baku was very entertained by his woman’s antics, elbowing an annoyed Erik.
”Moooo, bitch, get out my hay! Get out my hay bitch, get out my hay!”
Molly chuckled at her friend as the waiter came by for their orders.
“So Erik, what are your intentions for my friend here? I see you have expensive taste, I don’t want her to feel too spoiled now.” Kellie says smiling into her water cup.
Erik shakes his head, “Nah, I do this as a test. You don’t rock with the House, you don’t rock with me.”
“Hell, do the House rock for us? Wasn’t we supposed to be boycottin them or somethin?” Kellie asked.
“Yeah, but I mean, the cheap prices are kinda like reparations, so we’ll let it rock for now.” Erik adds.
Kellie and M’Baku’s food arrive. M’Baku takes a sausage and holds it up. Kellie freezes in place.
“Are you hungry?” M’Baku asks in a deep tone.
“No...but I could eat.” Kellie asks seductively.
“You know the rule: closed mouths don’t get fed.” M’Baku licks his lips sinisterly.
Kellie scoffs, “Since when am I keeping my mouth closed. Gimme that damn meat, Baku!”
M’Baku clicks his tongue, “Is that how we ask?”
Kellie tucks her chin into her chest, “No...I’m bein bad.”
“And I know you are a good girl, aren’t you?”
Kellie nods.
Molly and Erik are looking at them with horrified expressions. “Kellie, what the hell-”
“Open up for me.” M’Baku demands, Kellie obliges. “Wider.” Kellie follows. “You know this meat is plentiful, make room for it.” Kellie stretches her mouth to its widest.
“Nigga! Give her the damn food before I fuckin lose what I paid for all over this damn table! Nasty asses.” Erik exclaims.
M’Baku finally feeds Kellie who chews on it happily as they giggle in each other’s faces. M’Baku inhales sharply all of a sudden, “Yes, you are a good girl, always a people pleaser.”
“What can I say? My man wants what he wants!”
M’Baku bites his lip gripping the table as he growls under his breath looking at Kellie as she licks her lips. Erik shakes his head, giving Molly the signal as he lays cash out on the table.
“Ok y’all, we gotta go. Let us through.”
“Oh, hell naw, Molly.” M’Baku grunts.
“Come on, Bak! We gotta go!” Erik says pushing him.
“Don’t touch me right now, I’m close.”
“Dafuq you mean??” Erik’s voice raises an octave.
Kellie taps Molly to say, “Girl, climb the booth. This ain’t goin nowhere.”
Molly rolls her eyes as she gets up to straddle the back of the booth. Erik follows behind.
Molly looks back to say goodbye and finds the culprit of their problem: Kellie was footing M’Baku’s crotch under the table.
“Woooow, my boy a real freak huh?” Erik laughs out loud as they walk out.
“That’s your boy alright.” Molly says shaking the image from her head.
Erik beeps his car to unlock, “Let’s get you home, ma. I know you busy and shit.”
Molly sucks her teeth as she gets in, “I ain’t that busy. It’s a weekend after all.”
Erik starts the car up, “Lawyers get days off? You sure you ain’t slackin?”
“Boy! Ain’t nuthin slack about me! Whatchu talkin bout! I’m tight son!” Molly says with a B-boy pose.
Erik shakes his head laughing, “You brazy girl.”
Pulling up to Molly’s spot, Erik turns off the engine. “Why you turning the car off?”
Erik has his car keys in hand, getting out, “I gotta walk you to your door.”
Molly looks after him suspiciously before getting out.
As they walk to her door, Molly says, “Ok, this is me right here.”
Erik puts his hands in his pockets biting his lip, “Ok, no doubt.”
Molly stands there looking around nervously. “Isn’t this it? You go back to your car.”
“Pssh, come on, I know you been eyein my mouth since you met me, so I’m just giving you the option.” Erik says all cocky.
“Nigga, what have you done for me to warrant a kiss?” Molly asks defiantly.
“We just got back from Waffle! Plus I got you the fresh squeezed orange juice!”
“Please, buying me a drink ain’t appeasing, believe me! And they lied to you, shit was Sunny D.”
Erik cursed under his breath, “Ok, well, what about, I had a damn good time with you and it would be dope of you felt the same way.”
Molly thought on it. She did have a real good time today with him and the night was still young.
She sighed heavily getting her keys out, “You can come in, but for a quick minute! Just to wind down, but you out after that!”
Erik smiled big, golds glimmering, “That’s all I need, ma.”
Part 4
RagTag
@hbicprettyprincess @kimianostalgia@afraiddreamingandloving @chaneajoyyy@myfavemarvelfanfics @nys30
Other Works
King Kil’mawalls
T’akia
Some Weeks Are Better Than Others
Commencement Day
Song of Stevens
The Coffee Prince
N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands
If I Could Do It All Again
#SundaySweat
#insecure#black panther x insecure#insecure fanfic#black panther au#black panther fanfic#fanfic#shakafic
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Beruna, Calormen, Dryad, First Battle, Four Signs, Lion's Kiss, Mermaid, and Ships?
I really love having so many questions to answer, but some of these have long answers, haha, so under the cut!
Beruna: What was a major battle you have won?Does it count if it’s a battle I’m still fighting? I mean, I count it as...an on-going win? I have battled depression and anxiety since high school. Back then, it won. BUT see my answer a little further down on how God won later. I won’t say that it’s now never a struggle, but it’s a battle I’m winning now, and with God’s help, it’ll never win over me again.
Calormen: What is a biblical proverb you hold on to?Already answered, but there’s so many good ones so I don’t mind answering again, haha. Prov. 16:9 “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.”
Dryad: When has God used nature to bring you closer to Him?Okay, so. *takes a deep breath* This is a part of my testimony I don’t often tell; not because I don’t want to, but just because it never really comes up, I guess? (This is the very condensed version, tbh, because this post is going to be long enough as it is, haha!) Nature is wonderful. I look around me, and I see the hand of God in everything. But there is one moment in my life that stands out above them all because it’s the time God brought me back to Himself. High school...was not a good time in my life. While I never denounced God as such, I stopped believing that He actually cared. Or, rather, I did know He cared, but I didn’t want to believe it so I ‘convinced’ myself otherwise. I hated myself, so why wouldn’t God too? I was in a pretty bad place. Then, my sophomore year, my church’s youth leaders started planning a week-long camping trip to the Boundary Waters in Minnesota. Our youth group was 7th-12th grades, but only the high school kids were going to be allowed to go. I love camping, so of course I jumped at the chance. And, I thought, at least it would allow me to get away for a while, to get away from everything that hurt. We were camped just outside of the actual Boundary Waters, and on Wednesday we went in search of a waterfall off an unmarked trail that was actually in in the Boundary Waters. And it wasn’t until that day as we canoed across three lakes and hiked in between, that the majesty of God hit me full-force. He created all of this beauty, and He didn’t have to create me. He created all of this beauty, yet He still loved me more than all of this. The earth declares His glory; He didn’t need me, but He did want me. I was overcome with the weight of my sin that had put me in this position in the first place, and I was overwhelmed by the deep, unfathomable love of God that chose me out of all of creation. Oh, that God loved me more than the beauty I saw all around me!
First Battle: What is one time that you have stepped out of your comfort zone in order to follow God’s will for your life or to grow in your faith?A major time came this last summer when on a Sunday morning I was asked to go up to a church camp to be a counselor for Senior High week -- and the week started the very next day. I had counseled for a junior camp one other summer (at a different church camp), but I had never done Senior Highers before. I was so tempted to so say ‘no’ because I didn’t feel adequate to be a leader to these ladies and I just felt completely unprepared, having not ever been to counselor training. Doing this would be so far out of my comfort zone that the ball wasn’t even in the stadium parking lot anymore, it was so far gone. But then I remembered a prayer I had made towards the end of my first year of Bible college: “God, I want You to use me in any way that You see fit. If I am capable of doing a task that you set before me, I will do it.” So again I prayed. I prayed that if this was something He wanted me to do, I knew He would give me the strength to do it. And I ended up agreeing to go. I’ll admit, those girls were as much a blessing to me as I hope I was to them, but I definitely believe that was something God called me to do, to step out in faith to help those young ladies grow in theirs.
Four Signs: What verse (s) have you memorized that you return to in order to help you stay your course?Honestly, I am really horrible about memorizing scripture, and even when I do I can’t remember the reference half the time, haha. But one passage I memorized at camp one summer has always stuck with me and reminds me that I am not my own and that I have greater purpose in this world than to live for myself: Romans 12:1-3 “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (ESV)
Lion’s Kiss: What expression of God’s love in this world touches you most deeply?(I guess I’m not really sure how to answer this haha but) Answered prayer -- even if it’s not the answer we want. When He sees fit to answer the way we wanted it’s an expression of “I love you, and I love to give you what you ask for.” And when He answers in a way that’s not what we wanted, it’s an expression of “I love you, and I know what’s best.”
Mermaid: What song reminds you of God’s love the most?Already answered, but I can’t pick just one, soooo... Just As I Am (I Come Broken) and How He Loves by David Crowder Band!
Ships: What has been your favourite part of your journey with God?I don’t really know if this is the right way to answer this, haha, but I guess all the time I’ve spent at camp over the years. I started going the year I was old enough, and spent ten summers there, as well as six winters at a teen winter retreat, plus a couple of ladies’ retreats. As a teen, those weeks in the summer were the part of the year that I grew the most in my walk with God, and I wouldn’t be the same person if I hadn’t gone.
Thanks for asking!
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Choices, decisions, or hell?
Oh, decisions need to be made? Let’s just put my brain in a blender for a few minutes, turn it to mush and let those tiny tits start caving in. Anxiety. Strikes. Again.
I’m that girl that won’t pick a restaurant, takes the longest exploring the menu and ends up getting her usual, then when she does venture away from her usual she regrets it in some form or fashion. Needless to say, I have never been great at making decisions. Just another day in Heidi’s world, having to make a choice that could make or break her existence.
If you’ve seen the show The Good Place with Kristin Bell, you would understand why I’d refer to the character Chidi as a kindred spirit. He is an ethical man who has essentially died and gone to the after-life because he couldn’t decide on something. Sounds like me in a nutshell, except I’m alive and hoping his fate is not mine (of course it won’t be). I look forward to the day when my over-analytical mind and emotions stop trying to control my life. Let me say that more mindfully, I look forward to the day that I am in full control of my mind and emotions.
“Saturn returns” has become a passing whisper more and more frequently as my 27th year approaches. For those who are unaware, “The first Saturn Return, which can happen between ages 27 and 30, is a bit like a cosmic bar mitzvah, quinceanera or communion if you will: a rite of passage welcoming you into your more mature role here on Earth” (read more here: http://astrostyle.com/saturn-return/). Another mention of this stage in life is called the “27 club” which references a group of popular musicians, artists, and actors who died during this year of their life. I say this with no adverse intention in mind but these two references are very real to me. Real enough to have anxiously awaited this coming year since I was 21. I’m challenged by the thought of losing myself to the pressure of life but I’m also excited to move through this time with the strength and poise I know I am capable of.
So. How does “Saturn Return” + “27 Club” have to do with my decision making? Hmm, that’s a good question and I believe I have an answer. It has a lot to do with my two previous blogs: first, about my recent health changes and second, about my longest relationship coming to an end. Luckily, I have quite a few things to live for and there isn’t a speckle of doubt that I’ll make it through the next couple of years. However, I feel as if I’ve hit a fork in the road with pretty much every aspect of my life. Therein prompting me to begin making very palpable decisions for myself, my daughter, and our pets.
There are infinite directions our lives can take (Lucky me!). We are like trees, growing, branching out, with infinite parallel realities to choose from. I don’t know if our lives are already written in stone or if everything can change on a whim. I like to think it’s all random, and that I’m not alone in this momentary chaos of feeling lost and unrecognized, this awkward feeling of being stuck or unhappy with myself for the choices I have made. I sit, wondering what I could have done differently to avoid being here, to avoid feeling this way. What can I do to change this in my favor? I’d go back in time, immediately.
Well Heidi, until Marty McFly and Dr. Brown show up at your door with a radio-active DeLorean let’s assume that we won’t be going back in time. However, to indulge my imagination a bit I figured I’d explore the moments in life that I would go back to. Get ready for some shit...
1st - I’d go back to 7th grade when that creepy boy in 8th grade left a nasty note in my locker about wanting to “fuck me”. I’d kick him in the balls and tell him I don’t appreciate the unsolicited disrespect and emphasize that he had no chance in hell with me!
2nd - I’d go to the moment I decided I wanted to lose my virginity, and change my mind! I would decide to save myself for someone who actually cared about me or even loved me.
3rd - I’d go back to the end of 10th grade when my parents forced me to try-out for cheerleading again when I didn’t want to. I’d give them a final hell no, and tell them that I was unhappy. I’d write them both a letter explaining that I wanted to be in art and theater classes instead.
4th - I’d go back to the end of 11th grade just to tell myself how beautiful I was and to teach myself some self-love.
5th - I’d go back to the day I quit my job as a gymnastics & swim coach. Instead I would call in sick, get my shit straight and save my money to live on my own.
6th - I’d go back to the day I enrolled in college and instead of staying in Texas, I’d go as far away as I could.
There are plenty more moments I’d change and just to clarify these are most definitely not moments I regret, nor pride myself on. They’re just moments that I wish I had given more time and care into. These are all moments that I rushed making a decision, moments when I wasn’t mindful of my own self-worth and in most cases decisions become stressful because I start feeling rushed.
Rushed enough to ignore things that make me feel uncomfortable, to order food that I’m skeptical about, to date someone out of convenience... the list goes on. Enough is enough. I’ve decided that this is no longer who I am. In every other area of life I’m quick firing, witty, and charismatic. So from now on, I will be implementing all of that and some dank ass patience into my new found power of decision making. Boom.
So mote it be.
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Reaction: to their girlfriend crying because of anxiety
Request: NCT127 reaction to their gf crying because of anxiety pls :)
Type: A little bit of angst and fluff(?)
Group: NCT127
Taeil
It was the day you were both supposed to go meet Taeil’s family. You both had been planning to meet his parents after your four month anniversary of dating. His parents didn’t really know of you and it had been a secret that he was coming over with a girl. You had struggled with anxiety for several years now and was on meds to calm you down in situations like this, but with your gift of losing important things around you you had left them over your best friend’s house a week ago. Taeil was standing in the bathroom brushing his teeth before he heard sniffles come from his bed room. Quickly he rinsed his mouth of any left over tooth paste as he stalked over to you in a ball under his comforter with ideas of his parent not liking you, or that you may not be pretty, or that you were to fat to be with their son. He would sit on the bed and cuddle you for a few hours, whispering sweet things in your ear as you lulled off into sleep, deciding to go a day when you felt better.
“Ah jagi, you’re the most important thing in my life. If I like you, they’ll love you. They’ll love your laugh, your smile, your personality, everything. And even if they don’t I love you and that’s all that matters, okay?”
Youngho / Johnny
Johnny was out of town the moment your anxiety weighed down on you. What caused it was a mystery to you since they usually happen at any random giving moment. All of NCT were busy filming for their new ‘NCT Life’ in Bangkok once again on Ten’s request. You was lying on the sofa watching a scary movie that would get you pretty worked up if he wasn’t there. It was pouring down rain that night with a loud thunder storm happening. You knew you shouldn’t have watched it at night because now everything around you, scared you. So you had text Ten to see where Johnny was at since he didn’t have his phone turned up on sound. Once he told you he was actually with Mark at the moment you immediately called him with tears in your eyes and a sore throat, he already knowing giving the phone to your boyfriend who guessed you were having a attack.
“Babe... you watched that movie didn’t you? Goodness you should know better. Well since we’re on the phone how about talking with me and Mark?”
Mark: “Hi noona! Everything will be a-okay, right? Just stay on the phone with us under the uh...blanket? Why under a blanket though??”
“Anyways.. I love you baby, nothing is out to get you, hmm? ‘Cause I can get the squad to attack whatever it is.”
Taeyong
You were already stressing over mid-terms coming up quickly with little time to study and then you saw online that Taeyong was seen with a ‘girl’ in the car alone. Hearing about the news and watching the photo float around you couldn’t help but think that he’s cheating on you with someone caused triggered thoughts and dropping your phone. Tears quickly came to your eyes as the man of the hour walked in, taking his shoes off before sensing you were upset and started questioning you. You showed him the picture. It wasn’t the fact that he was crying because of the picture, he was crying because you were upset and crying. He had to explain to you that it was just his manger and he was not the only one in the car, and to prove it he had called Jeno, to clarify that he and Renjun were in the backseat of the van while he was in very front.
You: “Taeyong you need to keep watch o-of your crazy ass fans. Ugh, I almost had a heart attack.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll have to do better than this.”
Doyoung
It was movie night with NCT tonight again. They’d make a movie night even month to relax if they didn’t have any promotions that day. Usually every movie you all watch is either a sad comedy or romance or most of the time action movies. But tonight was different, Mark and Donghyuck wanted to bet on who could watch a whole scary movie without flinching or covering their eyes. Being the little shits children they all are wanted to see as well and soon the hyung line started placing their bets. Half on Mark and half on Hyuck. So far no one was showing any signs of fear and you watched the movie intently sitting on your boyfriend’s lap with the blanket thrown over you two. Everything was going fine for everyone else but you were shaking with fear and Doyoung felt it. One scene in particular made Hyuck and Mark team up on you seeing that you scared, since you were in front of them they grabbed your shoulders shaking you and yelling “BOO!” in your ear. Tears quickly escaped your eyes as your heart beat was beating really fast. Doyoung scolded the two younger boys before walking you out into the kitchen placing a kiss on your lips and rubbing your shoulders to ease the anxiety.
“Don’t worry jagi, I’m going to get them okay? Shhh... Calm don it’s alright love.”
Yuta
Yuta and the guys all went to your group’s concert. You knew you were missing something and that something was your medicine before you went out on stage. It was the crowd of people out there hyping up your group’s debut stage. One of your band members noticed you were sort of out of it then asking if everything was okay. You said it was but she knew differently. Before you went on the actually stage your band mate had texted Yuta to bring your pills and a water bottle quickly. Once he got her message he excused himself and ran to you. He hugged you and being the big romantic dude he is, even brought you the gift he was supposed to give you after your performance. You had finally let your tears go as you buried your face in his chest.
“Hush beibi, I’m here rooting for for! Good luck!”
Yoonoh / Jaehyun (Jeffery🙂)
You were over your boyfriend’s house for the weekend helping him out around the house because he was ill. You were busy dusting the vase in the living room until you heard a unhuman sound come from Yoonoh’s room. It sounded like a scream of your name mixed with a sneeze and a cough. It scared you to say the least and got your heart pumping with fear causing you to accidentally knock over the vase. Mixed with the sound of glass hitting the wooden tiles footsteps were heard rushing in and pulling your shocked body away from the pieces of glass. Tears were now rolling down your face as you looked up to see Yoonoh with a worried expressing. Heart still beating fast, thoughts consumed you about the amount of money he must have put into this, about how he was probably upset with you, about how pissed off he is he had to get up out of bed while sick just to see what you did now.
“Hey look-”
You: “Jae, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean to- I was just- it...”
“Slowly breath in and out. You’re causing a anxiety attack. I’m not mad, just come lay with me, I’ll go get something to cover my mouth and nose so you wont get sick either.”
Sicheng / WinWin
It was the day of your test it started. Sicheng and you shared a classed together and that was English 2. Your english wasn’t the best and you didn’t have time this week to study as you were sick and in the hospital most of the week. But when you were discharged was the day everyone hated; Monday. A fist full of hair was tangled in between your fingers as you try to remember the answers for the test, thinking you were going to fail. And that made your cry, you cried during the test quietly and after the test, on your boyfriend’s chest. He rubbed your back while he was lent against the brick wall out of school. He had calmed you down before he spoke.
“If it makes you feel any better we failed together, right? I mean your english sucks and mine too. Let’s call it fair, hm? Here take my A++ love!”
You: “ Sicheng, your not funny.”
“Hey, at least I gave you A++ love. What, want a D-- love? Then give me my love back, ungrateful.”
Mark / Minhyung
During a thunder storm, you heard something fall in your shared dorm while no one else was home. The sound defiantly scared you and all you could think about was someone is trying to kill you. Tears already in your eyes, you pulled your phone out to dial Mark’s number. Once he answered he first got you to calm down. Next he asked if your roommate was there. Quickly coming up with a thought he made a confused expression toward the camera only to see you looking back at him.
“Uh baby you sure it wasn’t you dog?”
Donghyuck / Haechan
You and Donghyuck had been dating since middle school (7th grade) and were like best friends. He had saw you look a mess and look like a complete fool, and others he saw you smiley and happy. Donghyuck, still being young himself, didn’t fully know what anxiety was. Let alone knew you struggled with it. When the two of you were studying for finals that was coming up thoughts of failing and not passing your marks flooded your mind, tearing you away from actually studying the materials in front of you. Hyuck was being his usual goofy, dorky, savage self not getting any work done, he looked up at you with tears in your eyes and your breathing getting harder. He rushes over to you an rubs your back, not knowing to actually do. He pulled his phone out and called one of his hyungs to ask for help, and when they helped him calm you down he quickly placed soft pecks to your lips then your cheeks and all around your face. Making jokes to try and cheer you up.
“Look, Y/N, if something is up tell me. I hate yo crying, my cute girlfriend isn’t cute when she cries. She looks more like a evil witch trying to steal my heart again.”
You: “Leave the cheesy to me, Hyuck.”
masterlist
#nct#nct 127#nct reaction#taeil#taeil reaction#taeyong#taeyong reactions#text post#donghyuck#donghyuck reaction#haechan reaction#mark lee#mark lee reaction#johnny#johnny reaction#yuta#yuta reaction#jaehyun#jaehyun reaction#winwin#winwin reaction#hope you liked!
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I know I write a lot of these and I know Taylor may never see them, but if she does I want to say thank you for helping me get through all of the things mentioned in this post.
First grade is my earliest memory of being bullied. I was bullied by my teacher. She kept me out of story time and made me clean my desk instead. She kept me from show and tell and made me clean my locker. I have the agenda book where I wrote how sad and out of place I felt...mostly with sad faces. We had to show how we felt each day. I wrote sad faces.
I was home schooled for second grade and felt left out because my brother and sister went to school everyday. It was tough. I was diagnosed with ADD and Bipolar Disorder when I was 5. Mild Retardation Disorder when I was 6 or 7. I learned how to read in kindergarten but was set back in first grade due to how I was treated and relearned when I was being homeschooled. I have a just below average IQ. My deficits are with math and problem solving. I'm 22 years old now but when I was 18 I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and told my bipolar was gone.
In third grade I was put in a school for special needs kids. They didn't teach me anything so I was put back in mainstream school and kept in third grade. I made friends at the special needs school. A nonverbal girl and an autistic boy. In mainstream I didn't have many friends. I made a friend with a girl who was really screwed up. She thought it would be okay to hit my sister over the head with a 2×4 piece of wood. I never saw her again after that. That was in 3rd grade. In 4th grade I was friends with a girl who was a bad influence again she tried to glue the doors to lockers together and then when I proved to be a goodie two shoes she dropped me as a friend.
In 5th grade is where the real problems started. I was alone. I felt helpless. It was my first day of middle school and 2 girls who happened to be sisters asked if I wanted to be their friend. I said yes. I was desperate for friends. They were goth. Wore all black and one of them had piercings already. I was invited to their house. We hung out for about 3 months. They had other friends and whatever that didn't like me too much. They walk up to me in one of the classes the three of us shared together after talking to their friends and said I was too weird and I couldn't hang around them anymore then walked away. I pretended I was okay when I was hurting inside. I was alone the rest of the year waiting for summer to come.
6th grade..it was time to sign up for the school musical. I decided to do it since my sister was doing it too. First day of rehearsal a girl walks up to me and starts talking as if we are already best friends. At first I paid her no attention because I thought she was talking to one of the many other people around me but I soon realized no one was looking at her and she was looking at me. I asked her if she was talking to me. She said yes who else? I was shocked and excited. My self esteem by this point was so low that when I walked down the hallway I would literally look at the floor. I didn't want to see the people who made fun of me. I would keep walking and not look up. This girl pulled me out of my slump for a little while. She introduced me to a few people who I became friends with also. We hung out together all the time. We went to eachotjers houses. I felt that I finally fit in somewhere.
8th grade has a bit of a backstory that starts in 7th grade. So here it goes. .In seventh grade people talked about this horrible teacher. She was so mean and horrible that anyone who had her class was doomed to a year of torment. I thought being a good kid and all that it was no big deal. She was a special education teacher which I didn't know at the time. In computer class she ended up subbing because that was her free period and out teacher had an emergency or something. She screamed at me for being off task when I was not off task. I was so speechless another student had to tell her that I was on task. She singled me out for no good reason. As soon as I got off the bus to go home I started balling my eyes out. I was always a good kid to avoid that kind of confrontation. Remember earlier I was too much of a goody two shoes. I still was by this point. I kept my head down and got through the day. I begged my mom not to let me have this teacher. I cried and when I finally got my 8tb grade schedule I was so excited. I didn't have her. Then my mom had to throw a fit about me not having a special education classes. The teachers said they didn't think I needed it that year. I was doing just fine on my own. I never had to ask for help. I was Good. My mom Insisted. I got my new schedule and of course that teacher was on it. I go to school thinking it can't be too bad. She won't be that mean all the time. It was just a misunderstanding. I was so wrong it's not even funny. First day of class when your supposed to hand in certain forms and things. My mom forgot to sign mine and I got screamed at for it. It was not in my control. Then I get screamed at again for taking too long on my quiz to see how much I remember from last year. It was math so that's why it took so long. It was in my IEP which is documentation stating special accommodations for special needs students that I was allowed to just walk out of class to use the restroom and that I was allowed to bring my computer to class to take notes. She never read it. She screamed at me for both. My mom then sent a note stating she isn't allowed to scream at me because i was going home early for hyperventilating. She threw it in the trash and screamed at me for giving her fake notes. My mom then had my psychiatrist write a note. She did the same thing. She then got told by other parents that this teacher was deliberately bullying me and that they recommend pulling me out of the school I was in. So she did. I was put in online school for 2 years. It was twice as hard and I was not a self motivator so it was hard on my mom too.
8th grade also my mom got told by my best friends mom that she was moving her daughter to a different school because I was too different to be her friend. Her exact words were "My daughter needs better friends and yours isn't a part of that" when she went to that new school she made new friends and didn't want to hang out as often and eventually broke off contact with me. I still had my 2 other friends but she was my closest friend.
10th grade I go back to regular school and was put in a lunch with 7th and 8th graders who were moved to our school because the elementary school closed down. I went to the guidance counselor and asked to be moved to the lunch where my friends were. She did me a favor and let me be transferred. We had A B C and D lunch. I was moved from C to D lunch. My "friends" put their bags on the seat, had other people sit by them, etc etc. To keep me from sitting near them. I started running to lunch to be able to sit by them. It worked. The next red flag that they weren't my friends anymore but pretending to be was when I invited everyone to a cook out in 11th grade and they all said they would come and so I set everything up on the day and was waiting. 5 minutes til the time I said everyone cancelled. "Oh I have period cramps" "Oh I can't make it my mom has a thing" that sort of thing. They lied to me and didn't come. I was so upset. I sat at the table surrounded by the food and snacks and cried. One of those friends wanted me to help plan her birthday party but I wasn't allowed to be there. I was allowed to plan it but I wasn't allowed to come. That was low.
For senior prom one of my friends was talking a few weeks before about getting a limo. A week before she told me there was no limo and we would meet at prom. I get there and meet with them. Prom was on a boat. They had tables set up some for people and some just there with table cloths. We chose a table that sat only 4 people. Both my friends had dates but I did not. I suggested pushing tables together. There was an unoccupied table next me. Their response was oh no we can't there might be someone sitting there. There was no silverware. No purses. No bags. No indication that anyone could sit there. I just said ok fine and pulled up an empty chair to the end and their table. Later that night my zipper broke on my dress. I asked for one of my friends to find the t4acher who we knew to have Bobby pins and clips for this kind of disaster because if I stood up my everything would be showing. They threw a fit "why can't you do it yourself" "why don't you go sit with your sister" "why did you come without a date" my dress was falling apart...my sister was sitting with her friends doing her thing...i didn't think having a boyfriend was that important...unlike my one friend whose mom set her up with a total stranger.....hmmmm....i Then later found out both my friends came in a limo....imagine that there was a limo....i confronted them about it and was told it was a surprise...nothing personal. I called bs because she had been talking about it for weeks...i was alone the rest of the year. We graduated...i went to the local community college for a year and a half. One of my former friends was there and we talked some but after that we haven't. I didn't have any friends. After college because it didn't work out. I flunked out because of the math. I spent too much time on it only to fail math and a few other classes. I spent 2 years in bedroom in my parents house watching tv and wondering where I belonged in life.
My mom then when I turned 22 convinced me to join this special needs bowling group. I met a lot of people there and became friends with them. Everyone had different abilities and deficits and I liked this group because it focused on the abilities. My whole life everyone focused on what needed to be fixed or worked on with me and I finally found people that cared about what I could do. Then one day that all changed when one of the girls who I'm not blaming because she gets facts twisted in her mind and they get turned negative told her mom that I called her a lesbian. I did not say anything like that to her but her mom believed her. I had one other girl who was there back up what I said. This girls mom started saying that I was doing all these horrible things. She said I was saying mean things about her daughter and some other girls. She got a bunch of other parents behind her including a leader of another group I joined after the bowling group. I was shunned from the group. I stopped being invited to events. I was blocked by most of the people. The friend that backed me up became and still is my only friend. She almost got kicked out of the group herself just for backing my story. I was shunned. I lost a bunch of friends.
The adults in my life have been the ones who did the most harm to my wellbeing. After that last incident I decided not to care what others thought anymore because I know the truth. I know who I am. I give Taylor swift most of the credit for helping me through all of this crap because right after my last bout of bullying she came out with look what you made me do and it made my life so much happier. It helped me to move on and to be better. I still go to bowling. I still see these people but I'm not angry anymore. I am bashing their hate with total kindness and so far I've been getting snotty looks from the moms but no one had said or done anything. I'm still talking to my friends even though I can't hang out at their houses and be as close as we were their moms can't say anything without looking bad. As long as I am nice and kind...which I am anyway...there is nothing they can do. I'm using Selena Gomez quote "kill em with kindness" and Taylor swift "shake it off" "look what you made me do" I am thriving and there isn't a person out there that can bring me down!
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Don't say I didn't warn you
I told y'all I'd be bad at updating this stuff, and to be honest still pretty much just sitting here at square one so...:/ Seeing as it's Friday and I'm far too tired to scroll back right now and see what I've already written, I think I'm just going to do a sort of comprehensive general update instead. Lets get started shall we!! STORM: - Fortunately that death scare with him was caught fast enough. Turned out to be a complication between two medications but hes good now. - Well, okay 'good' might not be the apt term at the moment. He was actually doing really well the last few weeks but the last couple of days he seems to be reverting back to before via stuck hairball so guess who gets to take him back to the vet to be flushed out AND shaved this time!!!! (Im losing it over here) COUNSELOR/THERAPIST -same weekly appointments -ptsd digging into has semi-sorta been put on hold at the moment -anxiety meds raised(again) - starting to look into dysautonomia as possible explanation to my strange reactions to the weather *ill adress this section at the end. Its complicated. * GASTROINTESTINAL DOCTOR -upper gi/colonoscopy were fine -biopsies taken were negative -ulcers are fine but my stomach lining is inflamed -biggest problem right now is lack of BMs but the unfortunate reality being this side effect is caused by a couple of meds and the iron infusions. Will fix itself eventually but for now i have to take Linzess to counterbalance it all so I don't end up in the ER RHEUMATOLOGIST - potentially going to start seeing a new one under Hematologist recommendation to actually get a definitive answer on whether i have Ehlers-Danlos HEMATOLOGIST -so this is a new one -one of the very first things he had to say about me: You are very underweight for your age (no shit Sherlock) -shit ton of blood work was done -the GI had found i was anemic (around 10) - apparently i have been for at the very least a year but since 10 is technically the low side of normal no one brought it up -given the sense of urgency he had on the phone im going to guess my hemoglobin is significantly lower now (8-9) -started iron infusions. Have second one on monday and then its just a waiting game to see if my system is capable of absorbing enough anymore -this past week has been absolute hell with side effects from the first infusion which is unfortunately for me, a highly common occurrence with the first round CARDIOLOGIST -Saw him on Wednesday actually. Everythings still the same -Metoprolol has helped to tone my heart rate from 115 to ~87 -but it doesn't hold like that all day, which is partly due to the anemia -Sinus Taccychardia is still present. Always has been always will be. -it's actually looking like the reason it got so intense this last year wasn't anxiety but the anemia getting progressively worse -so odds are this might actually go back to how it was when i was a teenager if we can get my internal system back in balance and my hemoglobin back to normal ORAL SURGEON -Lucky Me! Looks like i get to start seeing him again -Between obsessively eating ice and being stressed in general I've started to develop a habit of grinding my teeth in my sleep - bad enough on my jaw as it is because its started getting stuck out of place again -also bad for my weight because it's exhausting to eat even more so right now SIDE EFFECTS -honestly not even going to try to get into this list because so many things overlap and are nearly impossible to explain IN CONCLUSION: To be quiet honest as bad as all of this sounds it's really not. I have gone through significantly worse health wise before, and that was when it took people ages to figure out what was wrong. At least with all of this we know what the components are and how each piece interacts with each other. Its just hard to fully solve the rubiks cube without messing up some sides a bit worse for a little bit. The difference right now i KNOW whats wrong with me, the hard part is unwinding this ball of lights without breaking any bulbs. But its not like were going in blind we know what's causing what and interacting how its just unfortunately a marathon to get everything back in proper working order not a sprint. My biggest problem right now is more so a mental tug of war between my past medical experiences and my current state of functionality (lack thereof really). The harder part right now is just keeping a level head. I can't stress how demoralizing and aggravating and exhausting it is to live like this because it's not really living and it's barely even existing. To go from being a human that runs at mach 10 all day long to one who can't even get out of bed most days or make through going to town for appointments simply because there's no engery left to muster. Its defeating in a lot of ways and trying to keep some sort of grasp on the knowledge it's not something i can help, it's not something that will last forever, and it's not something I can make move any faster and do anymore than I already am, like I said it's all complicated. I'm just trying not give up on everything at this point. Even if seeing my body fight itself and being helpless to stop my mental state from cracking and deteriorating is all i can see in front of me here. (Granted the holidays and season changes probabllyyyyu isn't helping right now) If I can make it through 7th grade and I can make it through freshman year, I can get through the current hurricane im sitting in. Still doesn't make any of it any easier but I know it's not impossible either. Im trying, I promise. -JT
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My first day of highschool (no one probably cares but I need to rant, ok?)
Warning: lots of swears, nonsense ranting, TMI, and lots of capital letters
SO LET ME TELL YALL ABOUT MY FIRST DAY OF HIGHSCHOOL.
FIRst off, I couldn’t fall asleep yesterday since I had a large fucking caramel frappé at 4pm and I ended up falling asleep at 10 (I went to bed at 8). I woke up at 3:45 am and couldn’t go back asleep, so I just turned my alarms of and listened to twenty one pilots to calm myself. I got out of bed at I think quarter to six, and got dressed in the clothes I already picked out. Skinny jeans: check. Tøp t-shirt: check. Any other shit that I wore: check. Yup, I’m done. I then make my way to the bathroom when my mom got up. Now, I started my *cough cough* “.” Yesterday (I also dropped my pad in the toilet on accident had constipation and bad stomachaches while also having to go to my brothers meet the teacher but let’s not talk about that) and I absolutely want death. Blah blah blah I do shit and eat toast and eggs yeah. I text my friends in a Twitter GC and I’m like having legit anxiety over here and I was fully planning to sit next to “The one with too many nicknames™” but guess what? NOPE!! I GO OUT TO THE BUS STOP TO DISCOVER THAT THEY REALLY DID MOVE THE SIXTH GRADERS ONTO THE EARLY BUS. HOW LOVELY. SO IM STANDING OUT THERE WITH TEN SIXTH GRADERS WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE ELEMENTARY BUS AND SO I GET ON THE FUCKING BUS TO FIND OUT THE NEW FRICKITY FUCKING BUS DRIVER HAS SEATS FOR THE MIDDLES SCHOOLERS 6th 7th and 8th GRADE, LEAVING ONLY SEVEN SEATS FOR ALL THE HIGHSCOOLERS. LIKE, WTF, MAN!! THIS ONE DUDE HAD TO STAND BECAUSE THERE WEREN’T ANY FUCKING SEATS.
so anyway, I walk into the highschool catching up to “The one with too many nicknames™” and I go find my homeroom. My homeroom teacher had donuts. Already like her. So then we practice our locks and I didn’t put mine on my locker bc I was planning to just carry my book bag around all day since we were allowed to do that now. It was reasonable until 7th period math but that’s for later. My first period was study hall in the library so I just go down there, sit down at the table that barely anybody’s in, and sleep. The speaker went “Ding…ding….ding….ding” signaling to move on to second pd. Second pd I had English and got another 1000 page hardback book like last year. Then third pd Science. Then fourth pd History, then my elective fifth pd video class. Then it was lunch time.
Ahhh, lunch. So I go into lunch, take one look at the line, and I’m like BITCH I JUST AINT EATING. Like, there’s a fifth pd lunch and a sixth, and my god the line was long. I was only at lunch with three of my friends but that’s fine since not many people are missing (some left school or moved or something idk) but basically I just messed with my phone and it felt super weird to have my phone at school. The only friend that got lunch took like 15 minutes waiting in line and I’m like shocked but all of a sudden everyone just BURSTS OUT OF THE PLACE AND IM LIKE OH SHIT BC THEY GAVE YOU NO WARNINGS LIKE LUCH IS OVER FUCKHEAD LEAVE. SO IM HURRYING TO GET MY STUFF TOGETHER AND JUST RUN WITH MY FRIEND TO OUR MATH CLASS.
So yeah we’re in math class, we have another 8th pd on Tuesdays and Thursday’s. Every other day I go to gym (specifically girls gym, which is very sexist might I add). So yeah, I’m not looking forward to gym. We have to have a change of clothes and pretty much the only thing we do is volley ball like can I just fucking die? Anyways, by this time I have three hardback books in my book bag. Now, I used to be required to have a special chair and take book copies home with me due to my cerebral palsy (that’s how you spell it right?) but now that I look back I realize that that was either unnecessary and I was just really weak, or I’ve just improved myself. But either way, I was still carrying- and my dad weighed- 26 pounds. It wouldn’t really be that difficult to carry all of that as I’m sure I’ll get used to it but that problem is that my book bag just won’t fit it all (I also still have to get my science book) so I’m just gonna drop my lit book in my locker tomorrow morning since I know I won’t need that until next Friday. The last period I had was food and consumer science (another elective) and I really only wanted to take foods bc Mrs. McDounah would also be my teacher in the highschool (she taught 7th and 8th) but on the last day of school she said she was retiring but the new teacher seems nice. Then I try and find the main exit to the school and walk across the parking lot carrying 26 pounds on my back. But wait, there’s people standing around the bus bc apperently someone isn’t where they’re supposed to be and I’m just standing there begging for death and I just sat in like the last available seat next to someone.
And that was my first day of highschool. (There are other things but of course I’m not gonna go into full detail)
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TL,DR: MY DAY FUCKING SUCKED
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Worst Nightmare.
Once in a long while, I will have these... We’ll call them, “nightmares”. If anything, they can be the worst kind. Not the ones where someone’s chasing me, not one where I’m going to be killed, not the one where one of my loved ones are leaving me- but it’s the one where an old flame comes back on. My first love, naive, but first love. I was young. I was 12 when I fell in-love with this person. He ended it that relationship when I was 14. So from my 7th grade year to my early freshmen year in high-school, he was all I knew. Although I had so many people who cared for me and another person who took interest in me, I was so naive to fall for this person who repeatedly cheated and emotionally abused me. A year after that heart break, I started dating the man I now call my fiance. He and I have been together for almost 6 long strong years and I love the man past the moon and back. But lately in these years, I’ve realized that I have dreamt about my old flame. The first time, I thought it was just a coincident. During the early years of my new relationship, my old flame and I reconnected and started a friendship again. This was due to my un-emotional stability. I missed his courtship. Not that my love now isn’t enough, he’s more that enough. But we were having some troubles and I resorted back to the one who I felt would love me. During that time, my old flame and I reconnected a lot. Talked all night and day, we saw each other here and there. Shared each other’s secrets to one another. Something that we did when we were younger... I believe that those actions caused my feelings to get mixed up in a ball. A week later, I realized that the one who let me go (old flame) had already made the mistake of losing me. That I wasn’t that stupid to stoop low and leave the one who truly cared and loved me throughout my rough patch (my fiance now). I cut all ties with my old flame, rekindled my thoughts for my lover and left it at that. But as I’ve said, I started to dream about my old flame. I’m not sure “dream” is even the correct term because when I woke up, I was terrified. I was scared that my self-conscious was trying to tell me something, that I missed him... That I craved him. I knew that this wasn’t it though. I knew that my heart wouldn’t miss the way it was treated. With no care... So then I resorted to look up my “dreams”... Nightmares. I looked up my nightmare. The results I got were that my mind was still stuck on where my old flame and I left off. That we never truly said “good-bye” to each other, therefore my mind was thinking of him. I don’t know how much of that is true but I find myself questioning it. With every nightmare I have of him, he is the one I smile to and laugh with. All the good memories start to flow back in and I’m stuck. I can’t wake up and shake it out of my system. I cry sometime because I know that I shouldn’t ever doubt my love for my fiance. In all the nightmares, it’s like we relive the moments we had together. We would be in the car together, walking together, smiling face to face. It was so realistic, that I felt the warmth of his cheeks reflecting back on mine. All of these nightmares give me anxiety. I know what I feel, I know what I want, and I know what I need. All that matters is that I know I don’t want or need him- my old flame. Yet I can’t seem to get over the fact that he keeps popping up in my mind here and there. I find myself looking at his profiles to see if he’s happy or if he’s hurting. I only want to wish him well, I only want to see him happy again. But why? Why must I care so much for someone who didn’t care for me from the start until he lost me? What is the remedy for all of this commotion? I’m not even sure. But he keeps me awake at night, wondering if he’s having these nightmares with me. It shouldn’t bring me comfort, but it somewhat does... I think my 12 year old inside of me is yearning for the old flame to come and take me to elope. But I know that the me now would never let that happen... So what do these nightmares truly mean? What are they telling me? Some questions will never have answers... And if they do, I feel that it won’t appear itself to me until I already know what it is...
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