#I am being paranoid the pills are making me act weird

[amethysttribble]

Holy shit, I’ve been taking new medicine!! No wonder I’ve felt like shit for 48 hrs!

[smittenswithmittens]

It's 02:30am, and I'm thinking about suicide.

I had a good day yesterday. I woke up and made a cup of coffee. I took my pills. I decided to dye my hair bright red, so I did. It looked nice. I had a few drinks and listened to music in my bedroom. Nothing significant happened...it never does.

But all of a sudden, about half an hour ago, I started fantasizing about suicide and self-harm. I was thinking 'this night needs a bit of self-harm' as if I were contemplating ordering a pizza or buying four more cans. Sometimes, you can be feeling absolutely fine but still want to self-harm and contemplate death. I guess you could say that that's not normal and I should speak to someone about it. But it is what it is. There was no trigger; I am not particularly depressed or upset about anything right now. I just yearn to feel the cool breeze of death. The relief. The end of the struggle. Everything is a struggle.

A lot of people over the years have said I don't seem that ill; I don't seem that depressed or anxious or paranoid. If I cover up my scars and stick some make-up on, I look like an average unremarkable person you might see in the street. I like to think I look friendly and approachable, or at least NORMAL. I want to fit in. I want to look average.

But underneath all the clothes and make-up and hair dye, I am such a conflicted person. I constantly think about ways to kill myself; even if I don't act upon them. I wonder what people would say. I wonder if people would be happy or sad. I wonder if I would be remembered. But at the same time, there's a beauty in knowing I'd never know either way. I won't be anything. Just dead. I yearn to be dead.

I don't always need a reason to feel suicidal. I mean, I've suffered a lot of trauma and loss in my life. But those factors don't always keep me up at night. Some days I feel okay; like I can leave the house without worries or anxiety. Some days I feel really great. But there is always something darker, burning underneath my skin and behind my eyes. I will be making a cup of coffee in the kitchen and open the utensils drawer to get a teaspoon. I'll see the knives and think how great it'd feel to just sneak one upstairs. I'll be reminded of the release it makes me feel when I cut myself. It's like a drug. It is an addiction. It's my addiction. Slicing into my veins just shallow enough to not do any serious damage is dangerous but I love it; it makes me feel more in control in a world where I am so small and out of control. It makes me feel like I have some say in my fate.

I act recklessly because I have this constant thought in my head saying 'it's okay. You can kill yourself if it goes wrong.' I'll make stupid decisions and flirt with danger because I know that any day now, I will be gone. I will disappear and nothing will matter anymore. I spend money impulsively as if every day is my last. It's hard, because on the one hand I like to think I'll be better one day and will achieve so much and be a good, upstanding citizen with a career and a family and a dog. But at the same time, the thought of killing myself overpowers my desire to lead a normal life. I want to go out with a bang. I don't want to be ordinary. Live fast and die young. All that. I am a contradiction.

I have no current plans to take my own life. Not right now, anyway. But the dream is always there. I remember, at school, being asked what I wanted to do once I had grown up. Some kids would say they wanted to be footballers, or hairdressers, or singers. But I always, for as long as I can remember, wanted to leave this life behind. I wanted to take my own life and be this mystery to people - this weird individual who had no way out. I wanted to be the lost girl.

In recent years, I have thought more rationally about suicide. I am aware that my death would hurt people, and I would hate to inflict that sort of trauma onto anybody. However, in thinking rationally about my life, I have concluded that it WOULD be appropriate for me to take my own life; given that I have acted so shamefully in the past. I have hurt so many people. I have shut people out, acted cruel, been dismissive...I have not been a good person to everyone. I feel like, in death, those individuals I hurt would perhaps feel glad in knowing that I was genuinely sorry - and that I hadn't forgotten my misbehaviour. I desperately seek atonement.

What do I do with this? Obviously I won't kill myself right this second. I always have an excuse, and more often than not, I sincerely cannot be bothered to kill myself. I am too tired and miserable to project that sort of productivity. I am aware that something needs to change; I need to either:

A) kill myself

Or

B) stop making impulsive and reckless decisions every day.

There really aren't many other options.

I don't know.

This is all very overwhelming.

Time for another drink.

I thought tomorrow was easy but now it's today.

With love, Samantha x.

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 6

Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]

Written: 2019

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings: swearing

Serendipity Masterlist

We're all laying on the couch in the living room at the trap house. Devyn and the guys decided to have a kickback barbecue with a few friends. It was hot earlier today so we spent most of the time in the backyard eating, swimming, and drinking. When it started to get cold we move the small party inside. Everyone else who didn't live here left already. I planned to spend the night with Colby so I didn't have to worry about how I was getting home.

All of us are spread out across the couch. Jake sits at one end while I sit at the other. My head is resting on the couch arm and my legs are across Colby's lap. Everyone else is in on the couch. Sam and Devyn sit talking on the couch and pay attention every few seconds to the game. Kat went to Sam's room to check on something a few seconds ago.

Even though Jake and I are in the same room we're playing against each other on our phones and occasionally send memes. Colby watches Corey and Aaron play rocket league. The whole time he sips his drink and rarely looks at me. Colby pushes my legs off him and walks to the kitchen. I close my phone and follow him into the kitchen. I walk in as Colby pours another cup of Jack Daniels for himself.

"Hey babe, maybe we should switch to water," I suggest as I place a bottle on the counter between us.

"You're actually paying attention to me now?" He doesn't look at me. His face is turned away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I stare in disbelief.

"Nothing. Just go back to flirting with Jake."

"Woah, what?"

"I said what I said."

"Can we go talk about this somewhere else?" Colby finally looks up at me and nods. He starts heading upstairs and I follow him. We walk into his room and I close the door. I sit on the couch and Colby continues to stand. He still has his cup with him.

"What makes you think I'm flirting with Jake?" I ask plainly.

"You're giving off flirty vibes with him. You're always hanging out with him and texting him. Jake always used to leave his phone in a random room and be a bad text but he's always on it talking to you."

"Jake and I are just friends. You of all people should understand that. I hang out with all your roommates and their girlfriends. Isn't this what you wanted? For me to be friends with your friends?"

"You hang out with Jake the most! You're in his videos all the time and eating out together. Who knows what happens off camera."

"Excuse me? Are you now accusing me of cheating on you?" I stand up now. I'm not going to continue to sit with Colby acting like this.

"Of fucking course I am! We both know you were before we met. You probably can't handle the idea of being with only one person!"

"Lower your voice." I hiss as I stand up.

"Why? You don't want everyone to know that YOU'RE A SLUT? Maybe they should know just HOW MUCH OF A WHORE YOU REALLY ARE!" I fight back tears that are threatening to fall.

"You know what? I can't do this with you right now." I go behind Colby and grab my overnight bag. When I turn around it's like someone flipped the switch on Colby's emotions. He's sad and I could tell that he was about to cry.

"Izzy, please don't leave me. I didn't mean it. I'm just paranoid. I'm so in l—"

"Don't. Don't say what I think you're going to say. Not now. Not while you're intoxicated and said what you said to me... I'm going back to my apartment. I'll be back on the morning to talk to sober Colby."

"Isabella. Please, don't leave." His voice is calmer and looks like he's about to cry.

"I need to go. It's the best option right now. Go to sleep babe. I'll be here in the morning." I drag Colby to his bed and tuck him in. I take out a water bottle out of his mini fridge and place it on the coffee table with an aspirin and a note to take it in the morning. If he's this drunk now, I can only imagine how big his hangover is going to be tomorrow. Before leaving I kiss Colby on the cheek.

"Please don't break up with me. I just don't want you hanging out with Jake anymore." He says as he softly grabs my hand.

"We'll talk tomorrow." I pull my hand away and leave Colby's room. I close the door gently and walk over to the top of the stairs. I sit and put my head in my lap. I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.

I sit for a few minutes and let out my tears. I try to be as quiet as I can as I cry, I don't need everyone else getting involved and stressing them out. I feel a hand touch my back and I lift my head up expecting to see Colby behind me. I wipe my tears and turn around to find Kat.

"Sorry, I'm just... really drunk. I don't even know why I'm crying." I continue to wipe my face and try to play it off.

"You don't have to lie, Iz. I heard everything— I wasn't purposefully eavesdropping. I was in Sam's room and I heard you arguing but I didn't know if Colby's door was closed or not and I didn't want to make things weird. Are you okay?" Kat sits down next to me and has her arm around me.

"Yes...No...I'm not sure. I just want to go to sleep and not thinking about this. I need to call an Uber." I pat my pockets and realize that I left my phone downstairs.

Kat and I walk down together and I grab my phone from the kitchen counter. When I walk back into the living room it's painstakingly obvious that everyone heard our fight. Hopefully, if I act like I don't know that they know all should be well.

"Hey, so I'm not feeling well and neither is Colbs so I'm just going to Uber home. Sam, can I talk to you for a sec." Sam looks between both Kat and me and walks over.

"What's up?" Sam tries not to look at me for too long. I forgot that he could look at me and see that I had been crying. Luckily for me, Sam doesn't mention it.

"So Colby is really drunk right now. If you don't mind, can you guys check on him every once in a while? And keep Jake away from him."

"Yeah, sure. We'll take care of Colby. What about you? You okay? Do you want Kat and ai to take you home? We could talk."

"I don't want to be a hassle. I'll just take an Uber."

"You're our friend too. You look like you need to talk to someone. We're here." After a bit of hesitation, I agree to go with them.

*Colby's POV*

I'm woken up by something cold and wet. Either I've been put into the pool again or I spilled something. Given the fact that I can feel how wet my bedsheets are, I'll go with the second possible outcome. I open my eyes to see Sam, Corey, and Aaron standing over my bed. My head hurts so much that I can only squint at them.

"What the fuck...?" I would ask if it was a prank but I can tell by their expressions that they mean business.

"Good morning sunshine!" Corey yells as loud as humanly possible.

"Dude, can you like turn your volume down?" I ask clutching my head. Another cold glass of water hits my face.

"No, he can't," Aaron says calmly.

"What's your problem?" I stood up before any more water could be thrown and grabbed a towel from the couch.

"We don't have a problem, you do. Do you even remember what happened last night?" I think back to yesterday but most of it is foggy. I can vaguely remember Izzy and I in here talking.

"Where's Isabella?" She was supposed to spend the night.

"Kat and I took her home after the shit you pulled," Sam said.

"What did I do?" I sit down on the couch not even caring about my headache anymore.

"There was something about you yelling that she was a slut and a whore. You were so loud that we heard you from downstairs." Corey explained.

"We didn't hear what the fight was about but Kat did you were a complete jackass to the nicest, most caring and loving girl that you have even been interested in. You made her cry, Cole!" Sam throws the last cup of water in my face.

"Fuck. Fuck! What do I do?" I stand up and panic.

"Our job was just to wake you up. She's coming over to pick up her car and talk to you. It looks like she left something for you over there." Aaron says before he and Corey leave. I walk over to my coffee table and see a water bottle and an aspirin. Even when I made her upset she takes care of me.

"You better fix this bro. I know I'm your best friend and all but if this goes south I'm on her side." I don't even turn around to look at Sam to know that he left. I take the pill and drink the water that Izzy left me and began getting ready and cleaning my room.

****

I managed to get the couch and my bed dry while waiting. Every time I walked around the house Corey, Aaron and Sam would give me looks. Devyn was out with Kat and honestly, I'm glad because I don't think I could handle them being mad at me too. Jake is the only one who seems like he doesn't know what's going on.

I'm pacing around my room when I hear the front door open. I wait a few seconds until I hear Isabella's voice. She's downstairs talking to everyone. I hear my name being mentioned and some mumbling. I stop pacing when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs Isabella appears in the doorway holding a brown paper bag. I go in for a hug but she shoves the bag in my direction instead.

"I figured that you'd still be a little hung over so I brought you the greasiest breakfast burrito to help you." I can tell that she didn't get much sleep last night.

She tried covering up how tired and upset she was with makeup but I can still tell. He hair is a little messy and her face is a bit puffy. Her eyes give away how tired and upset she is. It pains me to know that I caused this.

"Iz, I'm sorry about everything I said. I was drunk and—" Isabella pushes herself off of the door frame and closes the door. She gestures for me to sit so I do.

*Isabella's POV*

"No, Colby, you did a lot of talking last night so it's my turn. We can't just kiss and make up. You said some really hurtful and offensive things to me last night and that's not okay. When I told you about... how I was before we met, I was taking a chance and trusting you for 2 reasons. One, because I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me. And two, I genuinely was beginning to like you and I didn't want to ruin my chances by having this huge secret. I was in a dark place when all I did was go to parties to get drunk and sleep around. Hell, I still am in that dark place. But for you to take what I told you and throw it back at me the way you did hurts so much—" I'm cut off by Colby wrapping his arms around me. I hadn't noticed that I was crying until now. I felt a single tear a while ago but I thought that was it.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Colby strokes my hair to calm me down.

"Y-you can't just say sorry and expect everything to be fixed, Colbs. You accused me of cheating. Not in the physical sense but emotional. I wouldn't do that to you. Ever. This whole 'hurt them before they hurt you' thing isn't going to work." I allow myself to melt into Colby's warm embrace.

"I'm working on it. I was just scared of being hurt and losing you. How do I fix this? How do I make this better?" Colby and I finally detach and he's looking me in my eyes. His eyes are sad but hopeful.

"We fix this by going back to how things were before. It's going to be weird at first but hopefully, everything will go back to normal. And Colby? I'm not going to hurt you. And you're not going to lose me."

"Ditto. You're stuck with me for a long time." Colby cups my face and kisses me gently. Just to let me feel better but also to reassure me that all will be well.

We sit on the couch and talk a bit more. We talk about him not kissing fans on the cheek and how I need to speak up when I don't like something going on in our relationship. We talked until I yawned and Colby forced me to take a nap in his bed.

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

CHAT:

#1 after the Whispering removed

Following on from Anna telling Jo to get over it, Jo making a comment about how Anna had her changed by someone who hates her while Jo was changed by someone who claimed to love her.

*Anna rolls her eyes* “Right because doing something out of hate is teh same as doing it out of love.”

“It’s /better/ than doing it out of love with the amount of damage that happens.”

“So should I be screaming at you for what you did to me?”

“I always thought you should have. Though really it was out of love for my mother, not you, that I did what I did.”

*Anna shrugs* “I don’t even know what you did, just heard in passing something about crazy pills and you. It just seems like everyone hurts everyone else for their own good is part of teh normal. Why are you so upset?”

“I got given the option of drugging you like you had been in past, or my mother would be facing the same wrath that the rest of us have from Crowley. It wasn’t for your own good, or at least not mostly.” *Jo shakes her head, not quite sure how to explain it* “I’m upset because.. because this is completely against what I’ve been told in past from hi- it.”

“Do you love him?”

“I… ….I don’t even know if what I’m feeling right now is what I feel or what I’ve been made to feel any more…”

“What did he do to you?”

“It-He changed the way I think, about how I view myself when it comes to hunting and stuff. Made me more careful and cautious and less likely to be selfless in situations. But I don’t actually know if that’s /all/ he’s done - given he made me forget he did it before. Could have done it before with something else without my knowing.”

*Anna tries to not smile* “Gee can’t imagine how that feels at all.”

“And you’re not upset about it..?” *Jo frowns back at her, not liking the almost amused tone*

“I don’t know. Should I be?” *Anna run her hand through her hair* “If Grey had asked you to not do something dangerous would you have not done it?”

“I would be if I were you and everything had been tweaked. Though maybe not remembering that it has other than what people say is a bit easier..  Of course I wouldn’t, I told him that when he asked. It’s not the way I am, and he’s known that for months. He’s never tried to actually stop me doing what I thought was necessary before.”

“You kind of strike me as the type that tells her mom she’s not eating a cookie from the jar and then walks out of the kitchen with them in her pocket.”

“Well in that circumstance - so long as I didn’t have a cookie in my mouth - I’d be telling the truth..”

“but then as soon as you get in the other room you eat them.”

“But then they’d be from my pocket, not the jar. It’s a simple matter of getting the words right… Really important, sometimes.”

“Being told to not eat cookies before dinner and saying your not, only to turn around a min later to do it is still wrong. Splitting hairs doesn’t make a real difference. I just think that for Grey to do something that drastic there must have been a good reason behind it.”

“Always was a little worthless telling me not to eat before dinner - I eat far too much.” *Jo sighs and glares at the other making a reasonable argument* “The good reason being that he could? Or that he didn’t trust me? Or he had some crazy feeling that I was going to do something crazy? He did it because he was paranoid and he could.”

“Rightttt….”

“What would /you/ think a good reason for altering a part of someone you claim to care abouts personality would be? Completely and against their will, and then making them forget that you did until such a time as you see fit to change them /back/?”

“I think if it was a matter of life and death it would be different. But running out infront of a car to get to the other side of the street because it gets you to your objective faster is a bit different than waiting to cross at the light when it really doesn’t change anything.”

“Do I really seem the type whose stupid enough to run infront of a car to get across the street? Maybe if there was only a distinct amount of time I had to cross the road, but otherwise..”

“You seem that impatient, yes.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. Usually. And that just pisses me off if that’s what he thin-thought.”

“Well you can always take up my answer to everything, icecream. It’s kind of hard to be angry with brain freeze.”

“I mostly hit the bars, hit or kill something, bake something or go curl up on the couch wit- …”

“With?”

“With someone who calms me down.”

“Talk to him about it, if you two love each other then it’s worth putting aside your anger and forgiving him Jo.”

“You don’t make the people you love change, Anna.”

“No you change because you love them.”

“By that logic then neither of us love the other.”

“And maybe that’s why he felt the need to do what he did.”

“…I’m not following.”

“You wouldn’t change or meet him in the middle..I mean I don’t know Grey that well but he just doesn’t seem like the one that do that on whim.”

“…I wouldn’t have thought so either, but honestly, what do I even know. Can’t remember how we became friends, seen him acting more and more out of character - or at least more like his siblings. I don’t even know any more.  …I didn’t need to meet him in the middle or change though! I wasn’t doing anything that would have prompted me to need to.”

“Because you’re just so great at understanding people right?”

“… point.”

“Just talk to him. You don’t want to end up alone. It sucks and from what I’ve seen you’re still you.”

“I don’t /want/ to talk to him! I’m furious at him and I don’t want to blow up or shoot or burn hi- things. He did something..really really wrong, you might not get it but our entire friendship has been based on mutual /trust/ and he obviously doesn’t trust me and now I don’t trust him.   …I am fine on my own. You on the other hand…”

“So you’re friendship is different to any other friendship? I thought they were all based on mutual trust.”

“Not always. I’ve got friends I know I can’t trust and they know they can’t trust me and it works out just fine..”

“That’s called having an acquaintance not a friend.”

“…You don’t get it. And I don’t want to talk to him right now.”

“How do I not get it? Because you have an idea that isn’t the same as the rest of the world? I do get it. You don’t bend to anyone or anything. You have a totally different idea of what a friend, you haven’t acted like one since I started talking to you and you just get mad and defensive. I never said go right now and talk to him, I just said talk to him.”

“You don’t get how damn stupid this entire thing makes me! I thought that we trusted one another, when obviously we don’t, and I’ve just…  I apologise then, seriously.  ..I don’t want to.”

“God, everyone here so fucking prideful. You know what, stay pissed. Don’t talk to him, save your fucking pride and everything that makes you a special snowflake and live alone. I don’t care. I don’t know why I even talk to any of you. Being an adult means doing things you don’t want too.” *Anna storms off*

#2 - Anna continues with the “You did this to yourself” argument/blaming everything on Jo

Hows Anna doing in deciding if she wants to talk to Gray yet still?

she doesn’t know but shes okay with talking

*nodnod* That’s progress, right?

maybe lol

hows Jo?

Jo’s more mopey than angry, been eating frosting since her bakings been burning, and just very weird. So progress lololol

awwwwww

Anna thinks Jo should still get over it

Understandable.   Jo’s not sure its something you can ‘get over’, and she’s feeling sort of really bad for treating Anna like she had about not remembering things or being freaked out.

“okay let me put it this way. How many other people are you going to find that’s going to put up with your ass? And willing to go to such extremes because he cares?”

“Probably none, with all things considered. But going to extremes isn’t a very good thing, especially when it restricts someone you’re supposed to care abouts freedoms.”

“You should know all about going to extremes from what I hear.”

“What is it you hear then?”

“Careless, reckless, gets the job done but is sloppy.”

“Doesn’t mean I effect anyone but myself usually”

“You effect everyone that cares for you, idiot. Grey most off all.”

“I haven’t died since the last time, I think I’m doing okay, so maybe I just dont get why people are worrying”

“……………. maybe Grey should have tweeked your IQ level when he was in there.”

“Why? I have…barely even gotten close yet again. I don’t get why it effects everyone that cares about me how I do my job, because the job gets done and I get out mostly unscathed. I’m not a complete moron, I don’t take on what I can’t do myself.”

“Do you even hear yourself? You judge things as being okay by how close or not close you get? That mentality worries every, you aren’t a cat, you don’t get nine lives.”

“Maybe not, but I’m on my second one, so who knows maybe I am. I judge it that way because..well, that;s the easiest way to. I might break some bones one hunt, I’m not dead. I might get a concussion or have a large amount of blood loss, but I’m not dead. I’m still moving, I’m still breathing, I’m fine.”

“And what happens when you don’t care about being dead anymore?”

“I keep doing the same thing I’m already doing until I’m not any more?”

“and what about the people you leave behind”

“People die all the time.. you learn to live with it.”

“You learn to live with it? Have you ever mourned anyone as an adult? Not as a kid?”

“Not I’m guessing in the way you’d mean.”

“then think about that, and I’m going to guess Grey and Gray have a longer life than us..”

“Uh… longer than me, that’s for sure.”

“So they get to the time you have..and then Grey gets to mourn you for the rest of his life and if you act careless, you’re taking time away from him.”

“Are you applying this same theory for yourself? You realise you somehow got the most psychotic, murderous, uncaring creature I’ve ever met to feel something for the first time ever and you’re not even trying to patch things over or work out the kinks or help him get over the woman he fell in love with?”

“Turning this on me isn’t a good way to get out of this conversation and he’s not the only one trying to get over tht other woman. But the point is I plan on being around whenever the time is right for us to talk if at all again.”

“Sure it is, I’d much rather talk about you than me. I’m not /planning/ on dying.”

“You aren’t doing anything to make anyone feel assured by that claim either.”

“Why not? I don’t want to die. How is that not reassuring?” (sorry was making lunch)

“Just..never mind you’ve never been in the place where you have to worry about someone. I don’t know how to make you relate.”

“I try not to worry about others anymore. I swear it aged my mother ten years and then another ten after.”

“Clearly.”

“Course that’s a lie though.. I worried about the..other Anna? Is that what I should call you, er, her, um..”

“I don’t know and you cared enough to hurt her. So..”*Anna shrugs*

“That was a case of caring about my /mother/ more so than my not caring about her.”

“Is all conversations like this? With Grey? You justifying your actions with the attitude that you’re in total control and not at fault at all?”

“I’m not saying I wasn’t at fault there, I very very clearly was - but I was saying that I worried about her before. A lot.  …I dunno. Probably?”

“And you wonder why he just did something like that?”

“I told him I wouldn’t lie to him and say I wouldn’t do something reckless in order to get rid of Crowley…”

“And the rest of the time?”

“…I’m not going to promise not to put myself in danger to save others.”

“What about because it’s a rush and there’s no one in danger?”

“Sometimes if you don’t rush to get the job done, it’ll get out of reach and then someone could get hurt or worse later.”

“Do you really hunt to save people or do you do it because like simply like it?”

“…Why can’t it be both? Why’s everyone seperate them out as the only answers. I want to save people, I want to help people and I like to do both those things, but, yeah, I like hunting outside of that as well.”

“Because you hide behind saving people like a shopping addict hides behind needing just one more top or it was on sale.”

“Well I don’t. I want to stop other people losing their families, I want to do something which makes me happy too.”

“Sure..but maybe you should start by saving Grey’s only family first.” *Anna walks off*

#3 -Scene right before Jo called Grey back to talk for the first time after the Whispering (and when Anna ends up sleeping over while Jo talks to Grey)

*After the last few excursions out of town repeatedly the last week, it had slipped her mind about having broken the coffee pot and running out of instant before the last demon chase; and with her sleep not being anywhere near as peaceful as normal, she’d headed into town for an after-dinner coffee run to get her through the night. Though as she got to the footpath in front of the house and spots Anna sitting on the stoop, Jo starts to regret getting a take away option or three.* “Hey… what are you doing here?” *Moving past the other, Jo juggles the drinks holder while unlocking and opening the door with the other*

*Anna hasn’t had a good night since she last spoke to Gray and she doesn’t know what to do, she feels lost as to how to handle him and everything else. Jo seems to know her as well as Gray and she knows him so she had put on her coat and headed over to the house she was staying in. When no one answered she checked around back, still seeing the car so she had sat down waiting on the steps. Jo returning fairly soon was a good thing as it’s getting cold now fast when the sun goes down and she stands as Jo walks past her holding her coffee.* “I..wanted to talk. Is it okay to come in?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” *Jo steps back against the door, holding it open and waving Anna in, tossing her keys haphazardly onto the small cabinet against the staircase in the hall, not caring when it slides down the back. She’s got time to get them later* “..So… whats up?”

*Anna walks inside looking around, she isn’t sure how to start or what to even say at first so when they move into what she guesses is the living room she bites her lip.* “I talked to Gray, my Gray and well yours too but it’s more about what my Gray said that sort of made me realize everything and just let me start off by saying. I’m sorry for my attitude and everything.”

*Jo nods in understanding when Anna talks about talking to the shadows, though she doesn’t hide her surprise at Anna having talked to the both of them that well. Sitting down, she sets her drinks on the table in front of her before kicking a few things off of the rest of the sofa for Anna as she grabs a drink* “Anna, no apology needed. Honestly, I’m starting to get a bit of an idea about your perspective, so.. it’s okay. Like I said first time we re-met - forgive and forget. Though, gotta ask, what’d he say that’s…” *Jo waves her free hand as though to encompass everything and Anna, raising an eyebrow*

*Anna sits down looking around, raising a brow at the holes in the ceiling.* “Gray, told me what happened. What all I did to him. I guess I finally got it, watching him talking about it. I don’t know what to do about it now.”

*Taking a large mouthful of her drink as Anna raises her eyebrow, Jo shrugs a shoulder* “He told you everything? Start to finish? Or just about..what ended up making things tense between, well, most of us?”

“About Crowley and what happened in the last few weeks. I already knew about like how he and I met. Gray’s been upfront about things I’ve been asking.” *Anna leans back letting out a sigh.* “Everyone seems so miserable now. It’s not fair that you all live with it and I can’t remember it.”

“Right, well.. things were hard at that time for everyone - you can’t really be blamed for reacting to such a change like you did. Lord knows how most people would handle it.” *Anna’s comment about everyone being miserable gets a laugh out of her, shaking her head* “It’s not your fault if people are any more; and last time I ran into Gray he seemed in a pretty good mood actually.”

“Probably because he was without me. I don’t get it, why he even wants to be friends. I said some really shitty things to him it seems and I just don’t get why any of you have tried to talk to me. At least Grey is clear, we aren’t friends.”

“Because? We’re all fucked up and who the hell else is going to put up with our crazy asses?” *Jo lets out another laugh, a tad more bitter sounding than the last one, before shaking her head and shifting to kick off her boots* “Because in our own way we - I mean me and your monster - love you, same as you do us, and it’s sorta easy to take the hits after a while?  …yeah, I’d have guessed that would be pretty clear enough..” *She takes another gulp of her drink, glad it’s cool enough not to scald her mouth as though it’ll wash away the topic of the other monster, before leaning over to set it on the coffee table*

“Love isn’t supposed to be about taking hits. If it’s toxic and it sounds like ours was then you purge it.” *Anna runs her hand through her hair and she looks at Jo.* “Grey’s hiding out in churches, it’s where I ran into him.”

“Sure it is, Bobby always says that family, love, whatever, it’s not supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be hard and you’re goin’ to get beat down with it sometimes. That’s just how it goes.” *Jo shrugs a shoulder before shooting Anna a look. Turning away after a beat, she adds quietly* “Yippee for him.. …he.. …is he alri- not acting like his brother?”

“Besides looking like he kicked a puppy he seemed fine. We talked for a while before I wore my welcome out.  He really doesn’t seem the type to go out and pick up girls.” *Anna smiles some and she looks at Jo feeling awkward.* “I don’t know how to make any of this right with anyone. What should I do?”

“I meant more eating /people/. …don’t care if he decides to go out and do whatever else.” *Jo shrugs, tucking her feet up under her and shifting on the couch. Anna’s question though startles her, not having expected the other to really want her opinion  “Well, things are pretty right with me. We bicker, we fight, we don’t really apologise much and we just hang out. And you’ve never been friends with Grey, so it doesn’t really… count.  As for Gray…”

“Gray I don’t know what to do the most, I hurt him bad it seems and he’s still hurting over it I think. He wants to just take it slow. He out right said that’s why he put conditions that he knew I would never agree with.” *Anna sighs as she thinks about what Jo said about them bickering and so she reaches over and takes on of the cups of coffee for herself.*

*Jo makes an outraged squeak when Anna grabs one of her cups, before shaking her head* “Yeah, I didn’t think his…well, what I broke up was likely to be something you’d be alright with. Do you not want to take it slow though? What’s the issue? If you guys aren’t sleeping together and going to try for friends, then I guess both of you being yourselves is a good thing.”

“I don’t mind taking it slow, but I think by slow he means just be friends.  I don’t even know why, just you and him provoke the strongest feelings. And yea, basically he wanted to be free to do what he wanted too and when I said fine I get too as well he didn’t like it.” *Anna takes the top off the coffee, blowing on it before taking a sip.*

“Probably does, to begin with.. He’s bad at - heads up, its a double - being ‘just friends’. …probably as bad as I am.” *She laughs quietly to herself at the attempt at a joke, nodding though at Anna’s comments* “That would probably be because you and I were really close, friends, hunting partners, actual partners of sorts. And Gray… well, it’s like you both just connected. Really strongly. As for the not liking that kind of stuff, yeah, just..not in their nature to be alright with that.”

“I just don’t know where to start to make things up to Gray, he tried really hard to not be mad at me but he’s still hurting and I don’t want him to look at me and constantly be reminded of the bad things.” *Anna sighs before looking at Jo and then looking around at the house.* “Are you and Grey over with for good?”

“Just… well, you don’t think he’s any of the stuff you told him do you? That he’s said you said, I mean.” *Jo raises an eyebrow at Anna before tilting her head at the question, leaning over to grab her drink before shifting back and taking a few sips as though considering things* “I dunno. Haven’t spoken since he broke the news and went. …I doubt so, though.”

*Anna shakes her head quickly.* “For someone that’s supposed to be an evil monster, Gray tries really hard to be there and no, I don’t think he’s like his brother or that he’s weak.”

“All you have to do is keep feeling that around him then. Treating him like how you, like I dunno, feel he is. He’ll pick up on it.” *Jo shrugs again, relaxing back again and pulling the lid off her coffee to lick the frothy underside before tossing the plastic away and continuing to sip from the open cup* “Honestly, even I acknowledged he was a good guy for you. One of the reasons I agreed not to kill him, and didnt hand him over to his brother when Crowley gave him to me..”

“But this isn’t about if he’s good for me. I don’t think I’m good for him.” *Anna looks down at the partially drank coffee in her hands as she sighs.* “I don’t want to hurt him anymore and I feel like I keep doing it. He practically lets me get away with anything even though it annoys him or he doesn’t like it. I don’t know what to do to make him happy.”

“Yeah well, you’re good for him too. He’s less deadly when he’s been with you, he’s a lot less aggressive and definitely seems more happy than giant-jerk-asshole-dickish all the time.” *Jo lets out a small laugh at just how serious Anna seems to be feeling and how bogged down* “I’d say sex, but that’s kind of against the going slow idea.  ….try to pump up his confidence a bit, maybe.”

“How? It’s not like we date or anything and like you said sex isn’t a going slow method of things.” *She can’t help but feel frustration coming on as she doesn’t know what Gray likes or doesn’t like and the main things he seems to really enjoy she isn’t exactly a fit partner for.*

“It’s not like any of us actually do dates, though lord knows what he think would be an appropriate one.” *Jo raises an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side* “You’re the expert on friends out of us Anna.. How did you make your friends feel better before… everything?”

“I don’t see Gray as the box of chocolate and a spa trip sort of guy to make him feel better.” *Anna snorts at the suggestion of what she remembers for her other friends before this life and then the church.* “And a prayer circle is I’m sure totally out of the question.”

“Never know, he’s got a twisted sense of humor.” *Jo tries not to laugh at Anna’s suggestions, the mental images sure to haunt her for a while. Tilting her head to the side, she tries to think of something that could be helpful* “Well.. all I can think is he likes sex, killing girls and his razors. I’d try to think of his hobbies but that sort of sums them up.”

“Yes, take him to a spa and have the heated stone massage he can kill the girl and then relax in the steam room. Sounds like a plan to me.” *Anna can’t help the sarcasm in her voice as she’s not any closer to finding out what she should do.*

“Its sad that that could probably work as a plan. Though I strongly disagree with it.” *Jo sighs, smiling slightly at the sarcastic response* “Be much easier if he had non-destructive hobbies or interests.. Course, you could always just flirt with him a fair bit. Goes against the slow but if he knows you’re not givin’ it up, he doesn’t seem to mind the playing.”

*Anna sits there in thought for a while and she sits up placing the coffee on the table.* “I think I have an idea, do you have like around three hundred dollars I could borrow?”

*Jo jerks at Anna’s movement, giving her a strange look* “You’re not getting him another hooker, are you? Cause I don’t think he played with the last one really.”

*Anna turns red instantly at the idea that she bought him a hooker and she nearly chokes shaking her head quickly* “No! God! No! I..just something that seems to appeal to him that is perfectly safe!”

*Jo bursts out laughing at Anna’s response, finding her reaction beyond comical* “I.. …do I even want to know what this idea is? But yeah, I have some cash you can have. Don’t worry about paying me back, not mine anyway.”

*Anna still red as her hair nods and stands up, checking the time. She couldn’t do it tonight but in the morning she could.* “Alright thank you Jo. I should probably head back to my place, it’s going to be freezing soon.”

“You can always crash here if you want. Not like I’m sleeping tonight anyway.” *Jo just throws it out there as she stands up too, moving into the hall to open the drawer she keeps most of her cash rolls, an old habit from at the Roadhouse sticking with her, credit cards, and credit card offers. Grabbing one that would be more than enough, she holds it out to Anna like its nothing*

*Anna takes the money and thanks Jo again, putting it away, last thing she wants is mugged on the way home.* “It has to be lonely here after being used to Grey always being here with you. If you want the company and you promise to not shoot me then I could stay I guess.”

#4 - Putting this one up because of the ‘breakfast, lunch and dinner’ remark from Jo that just needs to see the light of day (Grey absolutely has to see that line because jesus girl) but also Anna yet again accusing Jo (whose been perfectly nice) of being a bitch offhandedly…

“What do you think I should do Jo?”

“Honestly? I’d give him a taste of his own medicine and let him know what he’s missing..”

“I mean about everything..as much as I try I’m always going to be that other Anna and I

’m tired.”

“…well, if you want to learn about her - I’m happy to talk; but..otherwise maybe trying to get your memories back if you want them.”

“I don’t know..I’m me, part of the memories I have are real right? Crowley only messed with part of them and when the other Anna came  back, it was like I died..the angel took over but now I don’t know anymore if I should have stayed dead or maybe both of us should have died.”

“That right there sort of sounds like her. ..She kind of regretted coming back for the second time. But Crowley messed with a bit - though the angel? She still remembered right up until you first went into the hospital years ago, actually. Just a little - or a lot - more than that as well.”

“She fell and I was the result, so in truth I was the lie all along..” *Anna makes a bitter laughing sound as she takes the bottle and fills a glass.*

“She didn’t want to be an angel, do you know what their like? They’re emotionless, cold, hard. Nothing feels the same as it does for us, like our human emotions but layered and layered in cotton buds.” *Jo sighs* “She wanted to be you, so badly. And I get the feeling she never quite knew if she was that angel or you any more in the time I knew her.”

“You know what’s stupid. I want to be me too and I can’t because no one knew me, all they knew was her and I’m never going to get out from under the shadow of her.” *Throwing back the shot Anna pours another one and downs it as well before pouring her third.* “She was a failure at being an angel, she fucked up everything she touched and now I’m paying the price and I’m not even real!”

*Anna’s reaction actually makes Jo laugh, reaching out to grab the bottle and pour herself a drink* “You were real Anna. All your memories up until your hospitalisation were real, your childhood, your parents..Your dad might not have biologically have been your dad, but your mom gave birth to you, they loved you as their own and you are real, Anna. …I wouldn’t mind getting to know you, if you’ll forgive me if I forget sometimes, that is.”

“Right..gave birth and because of me or Anna or us they died. And face it, you would have never tried to get to know this me, you would have just brushed me off as being a..what do you call it? A civillian and moved on with your next hunt. The angel was useful at least somewhat I guess.”

“My mom died because of me, thing I’ve learnt is that what demons do? Isn’t our fault.  Course civillian you wouldn’t have bothered to speak to someone like me as it is, would you?”

“I don’t know you look like you could use some saving..” *Anna snorts throwing back another shot, feeling it burn going down.* “But then I think I would have been talking at you than talking to you because it would have just bounced off that thick skull.”

“Just a little!” *Jo laughs, running a hand over her hair as she watches the other before leaning forward on the bar* “Course, I know my scripture, or at least enough. Apocalypse signs and everything… Still, I’ll get to know this you, civilian or not.”

“It’s not just you, did you know Gray is borrowing a body like I would socks..because I didn’t but it seems everyone assumed I knew. Everytime I think I get things figured out, someone decided to make me feel like an  idiot.”

“Oh god, I forgot to mention that didn’t I?” *Jo pulls a face, looking awkward as she takes her drink and pours another* “Sorry, I forget that some things aren’t common knowledge.”

“Doesn’t matter. I tried to do something nice but I messed it up I think and then I had a small freak out when I learned about monsters and angels being able to possess people. I’m sure Gray in the end is tired of dealing with me, I would be if I was him. He wants to just be friends and friends doesn’t mean dealing with the baggage because that’s all I am.”

“Wouldn’t write him off, but honestly, Anna, if you want to move on then you should either that or tell him you don’t want to be ‘just friends’, that your feelings are deeper than that and you want to work out a solution that makes the /both/ of you happy. …Don’t ask me where I’m getting all this from, I’ve been watching a lot of daytime tv and romcoms.”

“I don’t know, you and Gray cause feelings that I don’t understand. Gray, I get frustrated at because I don’t know what to do, everything I seem to try doesn’t work. He doens’t want anything but to be friends now because we got in a fight over if he has free reigns to hook up then I should but that didn’t seem to fit. He doesn’t like the idea of whats fair for the goose is fair for the gander. Gray opened up, told me what Anna did to him, he looked so sad and I don’t understand why he even talks to me if she did so much wrong to him but he does and he’s been nice and I tried to do something nice for him but I don’t think he liked it, I may have checked to see if he had been in to the shop and he hasn’t. So I don’t know, I feel like I owe him for what she did and he needs someone but I don’t know if I’m that person because my feelings are messed up and I want to do whats the right thing but I feel like I shouldn’t be selfish and push anything.” *Anna probably doesn’t need another shot but she takes one any way when she runs out of breath*

“What’ve I got to do with this?” *Jo shoots her a look before shrugging a shoulder, pouring the both of them another drink* “Just so you know, whatever idea you had was probably a good one if he wasn’t so uncomfortable in some situations. …my question is why don’t you just say he has free reigns and keep him too happy to do anything about it? Lord knows that that is not an undesirable task..”

“You just I guess you were the other person Anna felt attached too..” *Looking away she feels awkward saying that to Jo but she shrugs, reaching over and picking up a peanut on the bar and cracking it, peeling away the shell.* “He does have freedom to do what he wants..and I’m not what he wants so I can’t use that plan..”

“Yeah well, I was pretty attached to her too up until some stuff, so no biggie.” *She shrugs again, tossing her head back before coughing half her drink up at Anna’s comments* “You’re joking right? Pretty sure he’d be pretty happy getting back in the sack with you Anna..”

*Anna raises a brow at Jo’s choking and she laughs* “Once..we were together once and that’s when the whole just be friends thing started so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that he really doesn’t want me that way now.”

“Yeah, no, that wouldn’t be it. It’s the goose and gander comments, goes against their nature really and he’s done it once before but… that didn’t end so well.” *Wiping her mouth, Jo sighs and pours herself another drink* “Probably just scared and calling it something else. God knows I’ve hidden behind ‘just friends’ for months even though I want to fuck them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

“It doesn’t matter if he wants me or not, I tried to start over, I did. I just wanted to be normal but I’m a coward and I’m afraid of being alone. I don’t want to be cut off from the only people I know.” *Anna throws the peanut down and has another shot, she’s lost count at how many she’s had and she’s feeling it hard now.* “If he wants to be friends then what right do I have to ask for anything else, the other Anna did everything against what he wanted and I’m not her..”

“Normals for people who’ll get their necks torn open in their beds.” *Jo quips back, shrugging before dusting her hands off* “So you’re going to just..what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not going to ever be normal. I could learn to hunt again I suppose.” *Anna doesn’t mention Gray because she’s not going to stop being his friend but she’s at a loss as to what she wants for herself personally now.*

“Take it from me, the other Anna kind of hated it.” *Jo lets out a laugh, sipping from her glass* “I could show you the research ropes again, that was sort of you and Harry’s /real/ jobs here until..you stopped.”

“I guess. It’s not like if I get killed now it’s going to matter much. You could use me for bait, I’m sure that would make hunts go faster and you say you’re a good shot. At least this way I’ll feel useful again in some way.”

“Think you’re underestimating how good your memory and research skills are, Anna. Hell, I’m guessing you were doing pretty good in college, am I right? As for the bait thing…I tend to end up in that role when theres more than just myself on a hunt these days”

“Research is fine and I’m just talking.” *Anna stands up, swaying as she steps back, her foot catching on the bar stool and nearly falling because she didn’t feel it.* “I should go home or to that place I sleep, home..that’s a laugh. You know what they say, can’t ever go home again Jo.”

*Jo leans across the bar to steady Anna, shaking her head* “Should just go upstairs, knowing Harry and Lily neither of them probably moved rooms.” *Anna’s babbling about home makes Jo sigh, barely containing an eyeroll even though she knows exactly what the other means*

“Nah I can make it home, walk off what I drank.” *Anna reaches over and hugs Jo tight without warning.* “You’re nice even though you act like a bitch at times. Thanks.” *Anna turns and makes her way out of the bar, trying to walk straight.*

[lunarl3eauty]

Someone, please, remind me that I’m not alone.

It’s been a while, and I need to get this off my chest.

Do you have someone you love that has an alcohol problem? I’m struggling with someone who has one. My father has anger issues, is bi-polar, paranoid, and an alcoholic. It was much worse a few years ago, this was also before my attitude change. He would yell at me while he was drunk, in this forever loop about whatever it was that pissed him off. I would be trapped there, broken down in tears from being yelled at, waiting for it to be over. Then one day I thought to myself “You know what? I’m an adult and I don’t have to take someone treating me like this. I have a car, I can just leave.” So that’s what I started doing. I avoided him. I would either go to my room, or I would leave. After a while, it got to the point that I just didn’t care anymore. I would come home and he would be drunk. I was sick of hiding out and running away, I live here too and I have every right to be here. I started standing up to him. He didn’t really like that, and it usually made things worse. Anything and everything could set him off. One day it was because I didn’t want to sit in a chair. Many times it was because I didn’t want to sit and watch a youtube video / listen to a song he wanted to play on his computer.( I wouldn’t mind giving him my time, but it’s always when I have to meet someone or go somewhere. When he asks for 5 minutes of my time, it’s never 5 minutes. It always ends up being half an hour or even longer.) Half of his stories just looped around to other ones he’s already told me during the same session. I was annoyed and sick of hearing about his work being out to get him.

One day I was making dinner and he came in there to complain, again, about how they were trying to get him fired at work and such. I think I said something like “I don’t care”. Good god, that really made things blow up. I wasn’t emotional during any of it. Once I started standing up for myself a wall was put up and nothing he said or did would cause me to loose composure in front of him. I’m not going to let the bully win, and that’s what he has become - a bully. As he continued to yell and cuss at me, I just stood in the kitchen making my food. Yes, I was responding which made it worse. Then he called me a bitch, he dropped to his chair wailing, and then got on the ground and crawled to his room. I left my dinner on the counter and left. It didn’t hit me until I was half way to my friend’s house and I started crying. My father has never called me a bitch before, and I never thought in a million years he would. It hurt and I was shocked, my mom once told me when an ex had called me some names, that she would leave my dad if he ever called her those things. A few days later, he was sweeping and just casually told me that he tried to kill himself after I had left that night. He took a bunch of pills. There is no way of knowing if he did or not, and that’s not something I like to take lightly, but at the same time.. my father is great at manipulating people. He does shit to get what he wants. We were all nice to him for a while after that, which is exactly what he wanted. He got away with treating me horribly. He goes through phases were he doesn’t drink and he’s okay, a lot of times he’s moody (he’s bi-polar and constantly takes himself off his meds) and he often picks on me about eating things. He says he’s not making fun of me because no one is around to hear it, as if that makes any difference at all. I have told him before I don’t like him “joking” like that, and he continues to do it anyways. He makes sideways comments all the time. My ex heard one and told me after the fact. He said it took everything in him not to do or say anything. It’s weird because he can tell me how smart I am and how proud he is of me, and then just like that he can turn it around and cuss at me. He wasn’t always like this. He does have good moments, but they seem to be few and very far between.  Last night, was the worst. My family and I came home and waited for each other before going in. We knew he was pissed off and knew that he was drunk. We went inside and the house was a wreck. Chairs had been knocked over in the kitchen, his clothes were all in bags on and around his car, a closet had everything pulled out on to the floor, the computer tower was laying in the living room on it’s side with the printer thrown on top along with something else I couldn’t recognize, the computer room was trashed. Papers were all over the floor, the drawers of the desk were laying about, a chair was over turned, the computer desk and the shelf thing on top (desk with a hutch looking piece attached to the top to give you shelves) was laying on the ground. He yelled and cussed at all of us for half an hour before the police were called. He’s drunk in his own home, there is nothing they can do about it. He hasn’t been physical with anyone, so again, nothing they could do. Fucking up the house, well that’s a civil matter and they can’t do anything about that either. They could talk to him though, which was better than nothing. Oddly enough the officer that responded had been to our house before and remembered my father. “I see you haven’t gotten your car fixed from the last time I was out here. When you drank and drove back home.You may not remember me, but I remember you” My father bounced back and forth from being angry, to doing that crying thing he does, to being okay, and then angry again. He also likes to throw in that he was in the military (he was in the air force and was discharged due to a back injury from holding a heavy box while on a latter. He never saw any kind of battles or action, but when he brings it up, he likes to make you assume he has.) and had to throw in that he has a mental problem. At one point the officer gave him a warning that he would take him for disorderly conduct because he kept interrupting the officer, talking over him, and then yelled at him. Silently, I wished he’d continue and get taken away. Maybe that would have been the wake up call he needs The officer advised us to leave for the night, since my father can’t. They can’t force him out of his own home, and he was too drunk to drive anywhere. So we did, the officer (and two others that showed up randomly) walked us out of the house. The whole time I had been rock solid, my heart had been beating fast, I could feel my body shaking the whole time, but I showed no emotion. Not even when his nose almost touched mine and he was yelling at me about something that had nothing to do with me. He has called me heartless because of this new attitude, but it seems to be the only way I can handle him. I feel better being solid in front of him and not backing down. It’s not like seeing me cry ever made a difference, so why let him see how much he hurts me? I’ve tried to talk to him about it while he was sober before, which went no where. I got a passive aggressive letter flipping it around to be my fault. My father’s behavior makes me sick. He does this wailing crying thing, but then turns around and gets in my face pointing and screaming at me. He’ll give me some half ass apology only to do it again. His apology means nothing anymore. He says he’s sorry like a coward (he says it from another room “I’m sorry.”) and then does the same thing again. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t make him get help, I can’t make him do anything. As long as he continues to live with no consequences, I don’t think he’s ever going to change. Why should he? He gets to drink all he wants, stay home and watch TV, get on the computer and listen to music, or sleep. He gets to treat all of us terribly and then he acts like nothing ever happened. I. AM. DONE. I can’t afford to move out, I can’t support myself due to a whole other situation. I am going to sit down and talk with someone about this later and see what we can do. I’ll give up whatever I have to, whatever I can afford to give up (I can’t stop making car payments for example, but I could give up my gym membership.) I have to get out of that house. I can’t go back to living the way we did a few years ago. I never knew what I was going to come home to. I can’t fucking deal with this abuse anymore. He won’t admit he’s abusing us, but he is, verbally. I don’t know what else to do. I hate to leave my mom alone in that mess, as if I am abandoning her, but she has the same options I do. She could leave him if she wanted. She could go stay somewhere for a while to make him see that he is loosing everything. Maybe that would change his mind, but I doubt it.  You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. You can’t make someone change, they have to want to change for themselves. It’s a hard reality to deal with and accept. I am going to find a way to get out of this though. I will not continue to live like this. I have nothing else to say to him and he can leave me all the passive aggressive notes that he wants. I won’t bother to read them. The man that lives in my house is not my dad. My dad would never treat me or anyone else the way he has been treating us for years. I don’t care if he has a mental issue (bi-polar), he chooses not to take his medication. I don’t give a fuck what his excuse is going to be this time. I just don’t care. Flat out. I don’t fucking care. After dealing with this for, what four years now?, I just can’t anymore. I use to feel bad for feeling numb or that I didn’t care, but I don’t anymore. No one should have to go through this, no one. I know I am not alone in dealing with this personally (my family has to deal with it), but I know there are many people out in this world who has to deal with someone in their life like that too. 

[beauttifullife]

Nicky Nichols/Lorna Morello Fanfiction

Title:  If You Could Have Anything

Summary:  This is a different take on the scene in Season 5 where Lorna ask Nicky, “If you could have anything in the world, what would you have?”

-

If you could have anything in the world, what would you have?”

Nicky was in the middle of writing her demands when Lorna’s question rang between her ears.  Of course Lorna would ask that question.  It was such a Lorna question – abandon reality and live in a fantasy.  

“Vaginal orgasms, I hear it’s a thing,” said Nicky, refusing to really acknowledge Lorna’s question before continuing to write on her paper.   After all she had a better chance of getting her prison demands answered then getting what she really wanted.  

It was time to put that dream behind her.  That ship has long since sailed and it didn’t help secure Nicky’s mental health status or her continued sobriety to stand on the dock and wait for it to return back to her.  

Lorna sighed heavily next to her, and Nicky didn’t need to look up to know the woman was frustrated by her answer.  However, Nicky has known Lorna long enough to know that if she didn’t give Lorna the attention she clearly wanted, eventually she would drop it.

Nicky moved to the next topic on her demand and was in the middle of writing Re-establish the GED Program when a louder more intense sigh from Lorna had her pausing in her task.    

Nicky’s pencil paused on the paper and she grimaced, knowing that sigh. Lorna was certainly not her first lover, and Nicky was very familiar with what that noise meant coming from another woman.  After all, being a drug addicted girlfriend did not make Nicky the most successful domestic partner.  Let’s just say, she heard that sigh a lot.

However, Nicky would not be baited.  Like she said – Lorna wasn’t her first lover.  She knew when a woman was looking for a fight.  

Grimacing, Nicky forced herself to continue writing but immediately found her pencil forcibly removed from her hand.  

Turning towards the pencil thief, Nicky’s eyes shot wide at the sight of a very angry Lorna Morello, nay Muccio.  Just the thought of Lorna’s new last name, got Nicky’s blood boiling.  This was not the day for Lorna to pick a fight with her.  

“Married life has sure made you bold, Mrs. Muccio,” said Nicky, an edge to her voice that she had never used with Lorna before.  

Lorna’s brown eyes lost their heat, instantly recognizing the anger in Nicky’s tone.  

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” asked Lorna, leaning forward and staring at Nicky with those big doe eyes.  

Damn this woman.  

Damn this woman, and her beautiful eyes.  

Nicky grimaced, and forced herself to look away.  Lorna would not use those soul piercing eyes on her today.

Lorna laughed and Nicky recognized it as her fake, borderline mocking laugh that she did when she was upset.  

Nicky throat nervously bobbed – yup, Lorna was getting pissed.  

“That’s it Nichols,” yelled Lorna, slamming her hands and Nicky’s pencil on the table, garnering the attention of everyone around them.  

Nicky looked around the table, silently pleading with someone to step in and help her but all she got was nervous looks and mocking “you’re in trouble now Nichols” stares.  

Suddenly, Nicky felt two petite hands on her shoulders and perfectly manicured nails digging into her flesh, forcibly turning her body towards Lorna.

“What is going on with you?” cried out Lorna, even going as far as shaking Nicky.  Suddenly, almost as if realizing something she never thought of, Lorna’s eyes shot wide as she reached forward to grasp Nicky’s face before leaning forward to look her in the eye.  

“Are you on drugs again?  Is that what this is?  Did you take some pills while I wasn’t looking?!  I told you that you shouldn’t be in a room full of drugs!”

Nicky growled at the accusation before reaching up and pushing Lorna’s hands away from her face.  

“No!  I am not on drugs.  Paranoid much?”

Lorna eyed her for a second, clearly not believing her right away before seemingly coming to her own conclusion that Nicky was in fact not high, at least not right now.  

“Then what is it?” asked Lorna, this time however she kept her voice low, recognizing that their little spat was starting to garner attention.  

Nicole let out a groan, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and mentally praying to whatever god was up there to come down and save her from this woman.  However after seconds of no response, which wasn’t a big surprise since god had never been on her side, Nicky turned to Lorna.  

“Nothing is wrong,” said Nicky, knowing there was no way that was going to put an end to Lorna’s questions.

Lorna pursed her lips, and crossed her arms and it took everything in Nicky’s soul and body to not roll her eyes again at the woman’s reaction. But once again, Nicky learned from past experience to not roll her eyes at angry woman.  The small scar above her right eye brow was now a lifetime reminder of what would happen if you disrespect an angry woman’s tirade.  That, and a pair of Prada heels may look a woman’s ass look amazing, but they can also be used as a weapon.

“Liar,” mocked Lorna, “if that were true, then you wouldn’t be acting so weird since this riot started.”

Nicky let out a dark mocking chuckle at that before turning in her chair and giving Lorna her full attention, a move that in the back of her mind she recognized was a very bad idea.  

“Ohh…really?” she said, raising her eyebrow and quirking her lips in a way that she knew from past experience drove Lorna insane.  “And how exactly have I been acting?”

Lorna’s eyes instantly narrowed on Nicky’s face, and bright red lips practically disappeared into a thin red line.  

“Don’t do that,” growled out Lorna, poking her finger into Nicky’s chest.  

Nicky kept her eye brow raised, and allowed that cocky smirk to fully take over her lips before leaning forward, regardless of the pressure of Lorna’s finger against her chest and entered Lorna’s personal space.  

“Don’t do what?” whispered Nicky, dropping her voice down to that husky growl that she knew made Lorna squirm.  

Lorna whimpered.  She actually fucking whimpered and it took every ounce of will power Nicky had not to pounce on the woman.  

Lorna thankfully, for both their sakes seemed to gain her will power back after that slight slip up and pushed Nicky back, a little harsher than necessary before wagging her freshly painted finger in Nicky’s face.  

“For once in your god damn life Nichols, be straight with me,” said Lorna, the woman’s face was fierce but her voice was the exact opposite. It was heavily laced with longing, and Nicky could tell the woman was begging, in her own Lorna way.  

Nicky’s eyes softened immediately, and she dropped the cocky charade before sighing loudly.

“You don’t want to do this Lorna.”

Lorna’s face immediately lost its hardness, and back was the soft Italian beauty that Nicky remembered from all those years ago when she first walked in with her oranges on.  

“Nicky…” started Lorna but Nicky couldn’t let this continue, she needed to put both of them out of their misery.  

“No Lorna,” interrupted Nicky, her eyes desperate as she reached out and grabbed Lorna’s pencil free hand in what she knew was a death grip.  

“You ask me these questions but we both know you really don’t want the answers.  You ask me to be straight with you – to not lie, but we both know you want me to lie.  Because I know, you know that you don’t want me to ruin whatever you have going on right now…” Nicky’s voice cracked and she had to look away for a second to gather in her raging emotions before turning back to Lorna.  

“That’s the thing about reality Lorna.  You can’t have what you want and the truth at the same time.  So please, if you want to continue your false sense of marital happiness that you have been shoving down my throat since I came back from Max, then please give me back my pencil and drop this topic.”

Nicky’s gaze went down to Lorna’s hand that was on top of the table to find her pencil in a white knuckle grip.  Lorna’s hand was shaking, and Nicky was sure the woman would have the indentation of that pencil in her hand for a while after.  

“And if I don’t give you the pencil, what will you do?” whispered Lorna, bringing Nicky’s gaze up to meet her tear filled brown eyes.  

Nicky’s heart beat widely within in her chest, her eyes going from the pencil to Lorna and then back to the pencil.

“If you don’t give me that pencil, then I will be honest with you. Regardless of your feelings, regardless of what I know what you want hear, regardless of how fucked up it makes your life – I will tell you the truth.”

The silence that seemed to echo between them was all encompassing, and all Nicky could do is stare at that pencil in Lorna’s hand.  If this were any other situation, Nicky may have found it comical that the future of her love life would be determined by a fucking pencil.  

Suddenly Lorna’s hand moved, and Nicky saw the direction in which it was moving and her heart sank.  Closing her eyes and warding off the impending tears, Nicky held out her hand and waited for the feeling of wood covered graphite to be placed in it.  

“What the fuck!?”

Nicky’s eyes shot wide at the sound of Watson’s pissed off voice and she turned to see the woman standing in the middle of the cafeteria, her eyes furiously searching her surroundings.  

“I wonder what is up with her,” pondered Nicky out loud, honestly thankful for the distraction.  

Nicky turned from Watson to the others at her table, making sure to completely avoid Lorna’s gaze.  

“You would think that a prison riot would have loosened Watson up a bit, but the bitch is still wound up like a…”

“Seriously!  No one is going to own up to hitting me in the head with a pencil?!” yelled Watson cutting Nicky off and stealing any other words from her mouth.  Nicky’s eyes shot wide before turning to see Watson standing on the table now, holding what was clearly a Batman pencil in her hand.  The very same Batman pencil that Nicky bought from commissary last week.  The same Batman pencil that Nicky was writing her prison demands with.  The same Batman pencil that a few seconds ago was in Lorna’s hand.  

Nicky’s eyes shot wide at the pencil and she turned to Lorna in shock.

Lorna was currently looking like she was having an internal panic attack, one that she was failing miserably to keep inside as it was currently starting to take form on her face.  Wide brown eyes were looking from Watson to Nicky in rapid succession, and her mouth was opening and closing like she was trying to formalize words but nothing could escape.  

“Well fuck you then,” called out Watson to the anonymous pencil thrower, who Nicky knew was not anonymous.  “And I am keeping the pencil!”

Nicky watched Watson pocket her favorite pencil before stepping down from the table to join the rest of the girls taking everyone’s demands.  

Nicky watched her go with wide eyes before turning on Lorna, seeing that the woman had turned the most delightful shade of pink when she met Nicky’s gaze.  

“You know that was my favorite pencil, right?”

Lorna turned even redder now, and Nicky couldn’t help but laugh, like a full belly – gut wrenching laugh that brought tears to Nicky’s eyes.  

Thankfully, Lorna began to laugh with her, both of them dissolving into giggles that had them heavily leaning on each other for support.  

Nicky was able to recover first, and it was then she realized how close Lorna actually was.  The woman was tucked into her side, one arm wrapped around Nicky’s middle and her head was resting on Nicky’s shoulder.  

“Ask me again?”

Lorna giggling stopped immediately, but she didn’t remove herself from Nicky’s body.  

“Ask you what again?” whispered Lorna, tightening her hold around Nicky’s middle almost as if she were just waiting for the moment Nicky would pull away.

Nicky reached forward and brushed the hair back from Lorna’s face, tucking it behind her ear exposing the tear stains that ran down the woman’s cheek. Bringing her hand down once more, Nicky cupped Lorna’s cheek and gently guided the woman’s face away from her shoulder to meet Nicky’s gaze.

“Ask me the first question again,” whispered Nicky, her eyes searching Lorna’s face for any sign that the woman was about to run.  

Lorna’s brow furrowed for a moment, obviously thinking back to the first question she asked Nicky before a light entered her eyes when she found what she was searching for.  

“If you could have anything in the world, what would you have?”

Nicky smiled as she met Lorna’s gaze one last time, before leaning forward and capturing Lorna’s lips in between hers.  She didn’t move to deepen the kiss, or lengthen it, instead Nicky Nichols for the first time in her life gave a woman a chaste, short kiss that was full of promise and actual emotion.  

Pulling back, just a fraction so that she and Lorna’s breath mingled, Nicky reached up and stroked the woman’s cheek.  Leaning forward, Nicky gently rest her forehead against Lorna’s before speaking.  

“That,” answered Nicky, “I would have that, for the rest of my life.”

-

A link to this story can be found here:

 http://archiveofourown.org/works/11249559

Or at fanfiction.net under the same title.  

[analysis-by-vaylon]

Double Take #2: “The Other Exchange Student.”

As I mentioned in my last post, I've started a new series of analysis posts that I am calling Double Take. Each of these posts will focus on an episode from the first season of Star vs. the Forces of Evil, usually a less-popular episode, and discuss the surprising complexity that some of those early episodes offer.

The season one episodes that I plan on talking about act, I believe, as a kind of "primer" for the audience -- that is, an instruction book on how to view future episodes; in other words, these episodes subtly introduce complicated ideas in order to prepare the audience for the later return of these ideas in even more complex forms. One such episode that falls into this category is "The Other Exchange Student."

Why This Episode?

Like "Lobster Claws," "The Other Exchange Student" is a lesser-liked episode that many rank near or at the bottom of their list of favorites. I, too, ranked it near the bottom of my favorite episodes. Yet on repeat viewings, I began to realize that there is something very peculiar about this episode -- something that, to my knowledge, no one has really remarked on.

In this Double Take, I'll discuss how Star's paranoia in "The Other Exchange Student" is -- despite being played for laughs -- actually quite reasonable. I'll also connect the lying and conspiracy we see in this episode to later episodes and explain the realizations I think the episode wants us to make.

Starspicious

First things first: Star is absolutely correct to be suspicious of Gustav. Though it's Star's jealousy which prompts her to be skeptical of Gustav in the first place, her belief that something is amiss is eventually confirmed by Gustav himself when he breaks down and reveals that he is, in reality, a boy named Charlie Booth.

Yet there's something peculiar about Gustav's confession: he never explains why he's measuring the Diazes in their sleep.

Gustav's inability to explain his extraordinarily suspicious behavior casts immediate doubt on all of his previous explanations -- raising the possibility that he's simply lying to Star about the rest of his actions.

Now where have we seen someone rattle off plausible explanations in response to a list of suspicious behaviors before?

Oh, right.

Webs of Deceit

I've written extensively about the (quite frankly) pretty incredible number of lies being told in season two (especially in the finale) by Ludo, Glossaryck, Moon, and Star. What's more, many of these lies seem to have fooled most viewers. Yet all the way back in “The Other Exchange Student,” we have in Gustav some early exposure to a practiced liar and social chameleon whose motives are unclear.

The show, I think, wants us to draw a parallel between Gustav's behavior and that of later characters -- particularly Ludo and Toffee. In fact, this might be why "The Other Exchange Student" is paired with "Monster Arm." I firmly believe that each pair of episodes is connected for some reason -- and the reason behind the pairing of "Monster Arm" and "The Other Exchange Student" is that they both in some way precede Toffee and Ludo's relationship. If you are skeptical, consider this: what is Ludo's wand if not a literal monster arm? And what is Toffee if not (quite literally) part of Ludo now?

But remember that Gustav isn't the only one who lies in "The Other Exchange Student"; in order to keep them happy, Star lies to the Diazes about what she's learned. Does that sound familiar? Star admits in "Starcrushed" that she's been lying to herself and to Marco about her feelings for him -- something she did in order to maintain their friendship.

Let's be honest for a moment: Gustav is no anomaly. When you really think about it, Star vs. the Forces of Evil is absolutely chock-full of shady characters:

Star, who is described -- in glowing terms, no less -- as a literal criminal.

Glossaryck, who (I argue) is one of the biggest liars of them all.

Pony Head, who lies and steals constantly.

River, who lies to Moon and sneaks away to fight monsters.

Moon, who teaches Star that the truth is dangerous.

Rhombulus, who makes a deal with Star to hide things from the commission.

Buff Frog, who used to torture people professionally.

Janna, who is just shady as all hell.

Tom, who is a psycho stalker.

StarFan13, who constantly stalks Star.

Sensei, who really shouldn't be running a business.

Oskar, who lives in his car, drops out of school, and has a record.

Roy, who fleeces people for money and sells drugs to kids.

Brigid, who steals hair (for good purposes, granted).

Lydia, who puts up a fake ad about a dog and stalks Star.

... And that list doesn't even include the "bad guys." (Sorry about getting off-track, but it just hit me how incredibly weird it is to have so many shady characters -- in a Disney cartoon, no less.)

But beyond specific comparisons, I think "The Other Exchange Student" wants to covey some broad messages to the audience as well: it wants us, the audience, to start thinking about the things that characters say; it's trying to teach us not to trust characters when they say things, to be skeptical, to make our own judgements, and to remember what really happened instead of letting characters feed us misinformation.

In short -- and this may be a bitter pill to swallow -- "The Other Exchange Student" is just a warm-up. As the series progresses, the lies will get subtler, more complicated, and harder to detect, just as they do in "Starcrushed." If that seems a little paranoid to you -- well, maybe you should be a little paranoid.

Star vs. the Forces of Evil and Other Conspiracy Theories

When we first see Star's wall of conspiracy in "The Other Exchange Student," it seems fairly obvious that we, the audience, are intended to react as Marco does and think that Star has gone insane. Yet by the end of the episode, we know the truth: that Gustav really isn't who he says he is -- and in fact might be lying about everything altogether.

This, by the way, isn't the last time we see Star's suspicions of someone be dismissed only to later be proven as correct the whole time (see "Trickstar").

But what are the implications of the fact that Star ends up being correct about Gustav?

Well, the meaning seems fairly simple to me: there are odd connections in the show that form a conspiracy -- or plot, if you will -- which points to something bigger. And "The Other Exchange Student" is the show's way of telling us to pursue those connections. How does it tell us that? By revealing that Star isn't wrong.

I truly cannot emphasize this enough: Star isn't wrong in "The Other Exchange Student." We never discover what Gustav is really plotting, and everything that he says to Star may be a lie. For all we know, he might have actually been planning to eat the Diazes the whole time. We simply never learn the real truth behind his origins or motives.

Speaking of conspiracy theories -- many of you scoffed when I brought out some (fairly convincing, in my opinion) evidence that not only was Starbruary's episode release structure based on a sonnet, but that those episodes also reference Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Scoff if you like. Yet, to this day, no one has offered any better explanations as to why, for instance, "The Bounce Lounge" and "The Hard Way" are, almost shot-for-shot, compositionally alike. (Seriously -- play both episodes at the same time. It's uncanny.) I explain the similarity as them being connected through the sonnet's structure; if you have a better explanation, then please, by all means, provide it.

Furthermore, Lekmet -- as noted in my post on the Holy Grail -- is almost certainly based on Baphomet, who is connected to the Knights Templar, and I'd be hard-pressed to name any other group whose mere mention conjures up as many images of shadowy global conspiracies, hidden treasures, and murky, blood-soaked legends as the Knights Templar's does.

And, as you may recall, I finally linked the Holy Grail references to what I believe is a literal Holy Grail in the series -- in the form of Lekmet's horn, no less. If that's not a conspiracy theory, then I don't know what is! Yet I didn't conjure this out of thin air. I watched the series and wrote about it. The evidence is all right there; anyone can see it for themselves -- just as Marco might have seen in “The Other Exchange Student” if he had been willing to hear Star out.

And speaking further of conspiracy theories -- it amuses me to no end to hear people talk about how much time they spent examining the chalkboard in "Mathmagic." Even people with degrees in mathematics couldn't figure out what it means. I think that's just a case of missing the forest for trees -- but I can't blame them for trying. After all, the music in that final scene sounds suspiciously like the opening theme from Gravity Falls (purposely, no doubt).

Yet, as I write about in my post on the Indiana Jones connection, the important thing on the chalk board is, in fact, the last thing written on it: the number seven. It's a conspiracy theory worthy of comparison to The Da Vinci Code -- don't you think?

Look -- if you want to understand what Star vs. the Forces of Evil is trying to tell you, you have to think like the series. Part of the purpose behind "The Other Exchange Student" -- behind many of the early episodes, really -- is to teach the audience how to think about the series. But don't be surprised if sometimes you can't come up with an answer -- after all, maddeningly, we never discover what Gustav is really up to. Some mysteries just go unsolved.

The Sum of Its Parts

Star vs. the Forces of Evil operates on a simple principle: with few exceptions, it forms logically-connected links of meaning through association, and then, as those links accumulate meaning through reuse, the series builds on them to introduce greater and grander concepts. Indeed, the point behind Double Take is to discover those links in the early episodes and suss out where they lead to.

Hopefully, I have convinced you that "The Other Exchange Student" is more important than it first seemed. Maybe I won't be able to convince you that there is some kind of grand conspiracy in the show -- and maybe there isn't one! -- but I think you should certainly take into account the comparison between Gustav's deceptions and the deceptions of other characters.

I believe the series will only get more challenging and complex with the ideas it wants to convey. My goal as someone writing analysis about the show is to shed light on those complex ideas and make them intelligible. And I hope I have served that purpose here for you today.

If you enjoyed this analysis, please let me know, and especially feel free to let me know if there's a particular older episode of the series you'd like to see featured in Double Take. I still have a few more episodes that I'm planning to cover with the series.

[amazinganxietyisnotonfire-blog]

trapped behind those pretty blue eyes

CHAPTER THREE

<< chapter two 

AO3 LINK

Summary: Phil comes home and Dan tries to find the line between keeping Phil safe and driving both of them insane.

Quote: I used to argue with Phil about hope. He would say it was the most logical thing in existence and I would say it was self-delusion. I finally agree with him. I finally see how the most logical thing is finding a way to survive, and if hope is that then hope is invaluable. It's like Leah said, people survive because they have to.

Genre: heavy angst, a slight hope of fluff

Word count: 2069

Triggers: mental illness, schizophrenia, arguments, memories of suicide attempts

Hello Internet,

I'm finally actually posting these, with Phil's permission, of course. I guess you already knew that though.. he's been home for two months now, and things are maybe not perfect, but they're the most okay they've felt in half a year so that's something. I actually asked Phil if he wanted to be in this video, but he said no. He said that someday he'd be ready to tell his side of the story but that he wasn't ready just yet. Besides, he said this is my story. I'm going to try not to speculate too much about Phil's thoughts because I don't want to misrepresent him, so this is just the last two months as they have happened to me.

During the first week that Phil was home, he spent three hours in group therapy every day. I got told that I shouldn't leave him alone for any amount of time, which wasn't hard. It would have been much harder for me to leave him alone. I was so paranoid, and I guess I still am a bit. It's just so hard to let him out of my sight when the last two times he's been alone he's ended up in the back of an ambulance. I'm still learning to let him breathe on his own. He needs to be able to feel the solid ground, I suppose, but all of my instincts are telling me to try and hold him as far away from anything unsafe as possible.

I'm getting out of order. Recently time has seemed so distorted that it's hard to make sense of all my memories. But he came home from the hospital, and the first day I was so terrified to scare him but even more afraid to leave him alone so I just kind of stalked him around the apartment. I walked him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room pretending to be calm enough to play iPhone games for three hours. Then we came home and I spent any time that he was alone, even in the bathroom, panicking inside. I made him keep the door cracked and sat next to the door the entire time he was showering. I didn't really understand the importance of preserving his, I don't know, dignity yet. Safety seemed more important than dignity. Plus we used to shower together sometimes, and I couldn't understand why he would be weird about this. He didn't explain why it was so mortifying for a while.

Phil is so precious--he didn't say anything about my stalking until the third day. He told me that the lurking was creepy and that I needed to either leave him alone or just come actually spend time with him. The ever present watching and following was, understandably, creepy. After that, I tried to stop the silent watching and replaced it with just trying to act like he was normal, but anytime he seemed at all distracted I would panic and think he was hallucinating again. I would beg him to open up and explain to me what was happening, what he was seeing but he refused to. I understand why he didn't want to tell me anything, whenever he opened up at all or seemed upset I burst into tears because I didn't want him to be in pain. I know that was selfish.

But, uh we spent that first week playing a lot of mario kart. I would try to sleep with my arm on him so he would need to wake me up if he left the bed. Even with that, I would wake up in the middle of the night in a panic to check that he was still breathing. As scary as these nightly checks were, they were only interrupting the constant nightmares about Phil dying.

Phil didn't cry until the second week of being home. We were actually in the middle of a round of mario kart when he put the controller down and just... cracked. I guess it made sense, honestly, the crying made more sense than the happy front that he was putting up, and I knew what to do with crying Phil. I'd seen him cry before, so this was something that I clung to for some sense of normalcy, as terrible as that sounds. We watched movies and cuddled. Then he stopped crying.

Phil has always been the type to grin and bear it. He tries desperately to be happy, in a way that I've never understood or been able to emulate. I couldn't understand why he wasn't angry. The world had just thrown this terrible thing at him and he was just... okay with it. Or at least that's how it seemed to me. I didn't get it, I was so very angry with the world and he was just taking it. It scared me, so much. He took his pills and went to therapy and only cried anymore when he thought I was asleep. I pretended to be asleep, pretended not to hear him because I didn't know what I would say. Things just passed and I held my breath around him.

The next week he got quiet again. He would stare at the kitchen floor and ask me to tell him what had happened. He said he didn't remember most of it, and that he couldn't tell what was real and what was fake. It took days and days of begging for me to actually start to explain at all. That was when he found the videos and said I should post them. The knowing was important to him, even if it was painful. He apologized incessantly and I didn't know what to say.

That seems to be a common theme; I never know what to say. But life went on anyways.

The weirdest, yet somehow most honest moment of his recovery happened soon. It had been two or so weeks He somehow managed to slip from what was quickly becoming our bed again without me noticing. I heard someone in the kitchen and ran down as quickly as I could, blinking the sleep out of my eyes. There was Phil, of all things, with his hand in my box of cereal. I laughed, relieved that he was safe.

Phil was upset by that because I wasn't angry with him. I didn't understand but he explained that I'd been treating him like he was glass and I said that I wasn't sure that I could promise that I wouldn't worry about him. He didn't see himself throwing up the poison he'd downed or watch himself bleeding out in the bathroom. He didn't try not to hyperventilate when calling hospital. He didn't spend eleven hours watching his vital signs, praying that they wouldn't falter. He didn't know the anxiety that I felt.

He said that at least I didn't have to live feeling like everyone was just waiting for me to do something terrible.

I don't remember who cried first that night.

I'm making this our to be a terrible two months. There are good things, maybe things that wouldn't have seemed special before all of this but now the little things seem to have more significance. I guess I should put a disclaimer because I think I'm messing up my words here. That's one of the flaws of leaving this unscripted. I'm not saying that there's some bullshit conclusion or metaphor that makes all of this horrible stuff worth it, that makes seeing Phil in this much pain worth it, but it happened. There's nothing I can do to make this have not happened, so if there's anything at all that I could learn from this, anything at all that can be construed as positive then I'm going to fucking cling to it.

I used to argue with Phil about hope. He would say it was the most logical thing in existence and I would say it was self-delusion. I finally agree with him. I finally see how the most logical thing is finding a way to survive, and if hope is that then hope is invaluable. It's like Leah said, people survive because they have to.

That's what we're doing, that's what we have to do. We're surviving. Sometimes Phil talks to me, he tells me about some of the horrible things his mind tells or shows him. The better he gets the more he can tell me without it feeling unsafe for him. He still asks me if things are real occasionally, but at least he's asking me, and he still gets scared of the horrible thoughts that he can't get out of his head, but he'd not on life support anymore, and the gashes he made and the place he bit his skin open are just scars. He's alive, we're surviving.

Nothing is promised, and I know Phil could slip again, that things could get bad again and I won't lie to you all and say that I'm not afraid, but the things he's doing now are going to help him keep from falling. Help him survive another fall if he has to.

Phil takes medicine, recently it's settled on seroquel, abilify, and lexapro. I'm sure when he makes a video he'll talk more about that. He also goes to therapy, that's actually where he is now. He says therapy has been really helpful. For a long time, he would get on me about seeing someone too, to help deal with all the anxiety and depression that I've been dodging nearly since primary schools, the feelings that were sent into hyperdrive by Phil's situation and I laughed him off. He's the sick one, not me. I'm nowhere near as bad as he is. And that's true, I think, but I don't want to be scared all the time. If I can't say that I want to feel okay for myself, then at least so that I can consistently talk to Phil without bursting into tears randomly. So I set up an appointment right before I filmed this, even if I feel guilty about needing help when Phil is so much more hurt. Phil drowning in deeper waters doesn't make me any closer to solid ground. The magnitude of his pain does not heal mine by comparison. I just need to remind myself of this.

I think that's all I have to say. We're surviving. Watch for AmazingPhil's side of things and please try not to be afraid to ask for help, as cliche as that sounds.

Thank you.

---

That is probably the end, thank you for reading. This fic was dear to my heart as a lot of it is based on my person experiences dealing with the onset of schizophrenia. Thank you for letting me share it.

[coreshorts]

Power Cycle

Chapter 1, Part 4

Allison pursed her lips, standing against her door in nothing but her underwear and straining to hear what was being said between Geno and Ben. He’s early. He’s never early. And he sounds far more bothered about Snatchers than he usually is. What is going on? Why isn’t Ben questioning that? He knows the guy better than I do and it’s obvious something’s up. She took a breath and pushed herself away when her roommate left the living room to shower.

She resumed the forgone activity of getting dressed, but the worry weighed heavily on her. She couldn’t make out much of the conversation, but she had heard plenty to know that something was wrong and Geno wasn’t going to talk to Ben about it for whatever reason. Her phone buzzed on her bed. When she picked it up, she felt the blood drain from her face and she found herself glad that she picked it up with her right hand, as it wasn’t given to shaking like the rest of her had started to do.

Remember to talk to the good doctor.

She unlocked her phone to try and reply to the message, but when she did, it was gone. She hadn’t accidentally deleted it, nor had she dreamed it this time. Her heart raced as she tried to come up with something, anything, she could do. She had no way to respond and if Ben had been any indication, talking aloud like a loon wasn’t any good. Frustrated, she threw her phone down onto her bed with a groan.

Do I talk to him now, while Ben’s preoccupied? The last one… it said he’d know in time, right? So maybe it’s better to bring it up before I can freak him out more. But… She paused, realising she’d started pacing, worrying at the fingers of her prosthetic hand. What if he already knows? What if he’s in on it? Maybe it’d be better to get answers from him. Though, if he does, then he spent a good lot of time denying it.

She cursed whatever powers-that-be that would let the world devolve into such a state, man or otherwise. She hadn’t caught more than a few hushed words when their conversation dropped to nearly a whisper. It gave her the distinct feeling that they had known she might have been listening. They wouldn’t have been wrong.

She slipped into a pair of black athletic shorts and an oversized band t-shirt with the nigh-unreadable logo of a death metal band that looked as though it was spelled out from assorted branches and bramble. Cradling her right arm in the other, she sighed, closing her eyes for a few seconds and trying to regain her composure. Turning, she picked up her phone, opened the door, and strode out into the living room, trying her best to look mildly annoyed instead of panicked.

When she did, Geno looked up from his phone and locked it, putting it face-down beside him, saying with a far-too-casual tone, “Hey, Al. How ya been?”

She paused, narrowing her eyes and sighing, “Fine. Fine, Geno. More of the same, if Ben hadn’t told you. Flashbacks, that sort of thing.” The doctor nodded, looking her over and then nodding toward her right arm.

“No problems with the prosthesis?” He smiled hesitantly when Allison silently shook her head. “Good.”

He took a long breath that looked like a half-heartedly-resisted yawn, stretched, and gestured to the couch beside him, but Allison remained standing a few feet from the opposite side from where he sat.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Come again?” Geno looked taken aback, but not, perhaps, as much as he should have.

“I heard you talking when you came in. You’re never worried about Snatchers. They know to leave you alone. Ben didn’t ask, and I don’t know why, but with that, on top of everything else, it’s just weird.” Allison crossed her arms, fixing him with a stern glare, as if trying to break the mask she suspected he wore with it.

The doctor simply shrugged in response, “I’m waitin’ for something. A message from a client. Worried about them, is all. I guess it’s just leaking over into other things.”

Allison’s blood turned cold and a shiver shot up through her spine, setting in the small of her back and refusing to leave. She could feel herself paling, and could tell the man on the couch before her noticed as well.

Geno spoke before she could, “You alright? Still with us?” He waved a hand and it brought Allison back to her senses through virtue of mild irritation winning over. She waved a hand at him as if trying to bat his out of the air from a distance.

“I’m fine, Geno. Just… I still think something’s up,” she said with an indignant look, though she couldn’t direct it at him, her eyes looking away, as if hoping that when she looked back, he’d be back to what she expected: A somewhat callous, somewhat paranoid, thirty-something New Yorker who really only cared insofar as he could keep his clients or friends. Ben was both, and always took priority, and yet he let him run off without so much as a word of what he’d like to see or do.

“I’m an underground doctor, Al. There’s always somethin’ up,” he said dismissively, “Now tell me what’s been goin’ on. I might have somethin’ to take the edge off those flashbacks.”

Maybe nothing is wrong? Maybe it’s just me. She shook her head and sighed, “No, no more pills, Geno. The last shit you put me on turned me into a zombie for a month. I’d like to feel like I’m alive, not like the living fucking dead you guys seem to think I am sometimes.” She shot him a smirk and was relieved when the Russian rolled his eyes, the green emphasised only slightly by the dark circles beneath them.

“Yeah, yeah. Never were one for pills, were ya. Look, that’s the only real option I got until you can find a therapist to talk to who’ll believe ya,” he said, waving a hand around.

Allison snorted derisively, “Right. Tell someone that I’m a living conspiracy theory.” She looked to the bathroom. The water was still going. Granted, it’d barely been a few minutes, and Ben often took up to an hour in there sometimes. Her gaze darkened and Geno looked somewhat unnerved by it.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, there, Al? Ya look about to murder me. Don’t think I’d like that too much,” he said, making an attempt at levity.

She stood there, staring at him for a few seconds and fighting an internal battle of wills with herself before she finally spoke, “What do you know about “the activation,” Geno?” The doctor swallowed hard, and it was his turn to lose most of the colour in his face.

He cleared his throat and asked softly, cautiously, “What were you told?”

She shook her head, swallowing hard to clear the lump in her throat that had formed when his demeanour changed so dramatically, her voice cracking at first, “Noth- nothing aside from that I was supposed to ask you about it.” To ask him for it would’ve been more accurate, but she continued to try playing it safe for the time being.

Geno nodded slowly, scratching his forehead and looking away, “You know not all those scars were from when ya died.”

“I’m still not convinced I was dead, but go on.”

“No, trust me. You were dead. Dead as a fuckin’ doornail. No matter how you might’ve had air to breathe in that coffin, you were in there for a month. Not much would keep you from croakin’ while ya slept, and it would’ve been pretty obvious to any trained mortician that you were still kickin’ when they opened you up.” At the last part, he lifted a finger to point at her chest. The scars she’d always made sure to hide on her front were ones that made her sick to look at: the scars from an autopsy that had healed over. They weren’t entirely obvious, since it seemed like an attempt was made to be subtle. Where the cuts would’ve been made all the way up toward her shoulders, they stopped halfway.

“Then how would these have all been healed when I woke up? How didn’t I just split the fuck open, Geno?” she raised her voice somewhat, the topic upsetting her now.

He shrugged, sighing and muttering, “Beats me, kiddo, but that’s the way it is. That’s what this activation’s all about. The way you were prepped, the way you were examined, all of it – it wasn’t standard procedure. Not by a long shot. To make matters worse, the implant to facilitate that arm of yours was already there when I opened you up. All ready and waitin’. I dunno why, I dunno how, and I dunno who… but I know what I’m expected to do.”

Allison took a reflexive step back, as if fearful, asking cautiously, “And… what’s that…?”

Geno shook his head, “Don’t worry yourself over it, Al. It ain’t gonna kill ya if that’s what you’re worried about. Granted, I dunno what the hell it’s gonna do. But you’ve got all kinds of gizmos in that head of yours. I ain’t even really convinced that’s the end of it, either. Someone’s got plans for you.”

“I don’t think I want any part of it,” she said hesitantly. She’d begun to look like a cat backed into a corner, green eyes wide and her posture starting to look defensive.

“I dunno if any of us’ve got a choice,” the doctor said, sounding resigned, “The way I understand it, you get one of two sides of this coin, and the other side ain’t the one you wanna mess with. It ain’t what any of us wanna mess with.”

Allison stared at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Geno shook his head, looking right at her, almost apologetically.

“It ain’t a choice of mine, and it ain’t yours neither,” he said, pausing for a few minutes, “Dunno how much they’re gonna like me tellin’ ya this, but… it is what it is. You got snatched up at some point, and something was set in motion. Someone wants you for something, and I don’t think the people we’ve been hearin’ from are those same people. They’re trying to stop somethin’ and apparently they’re using you to start it.”

The violet-haired girl could only stare.

“Look,” the Russian said with an even stare, “Now ya know, and it’s now or never, ya follow? What we need to do, though, we can’t do it here.”

Allison looked back and frowned, watching the bathroom door, “What about Ben?” Geno responded by waving a hand dismissively and pushing himself up with a grunt to walk toward the bathroom door.

Rapping on the door with a knuckle, he cracked the door calling in over the steam and sound of running water that met him, “Hey Benny, I’m taking Al back to the clinic. I need to have a look at that implant of hers. Somethin’ tells me it’s causin’ her all this grief.”

Ben sounded sceptical, “Are you sure? You don’t want me there to check it?”

Geno dithered for a bit before speaking again, “Eh, nah. Not right away anyhow. Come down when you’re good and ready. I wanna scope her vitals and all that, see how it’s reacting physically first. Take your time, bud.”

A pregnant pause filled the air before, no less sceptical than before, Ben replied, “If you say so. I’ll be down. Just be careful with the Snatchers.”

“Yep.” Geno gave a wave to Allison, closing the bathroom door with a click and walking across the room to gather his things.

Allison just watched him, standing still and holding onto her prosthetic arm as though it’d pop clean of her shoulder if she let go. This seemed to annoy Geno, who walked to the door of the apartment and beckoned to her impatiently with a crane of his neck.

“What’re ya waiting for? We gotta move, Al.”

“R-right. Right, sorry. I-I just…” she shook her head, unsure of what, really, she had in mind to say, what excuse to give. Instead, her mouth hung open for a moment as she stared, forcing her to snap herself back to reality and run to her bedroom to collect her things.

She stopped once she was ready to go. A black leather purse with silvery metal studs around the middle and zipper hung from one shoulder, a pair of plain white ankle socks and black-and-grey tennis shoes adorned her feet, and the only thing left to get was her phone. She stared at it blankly, likely for far too long, she felt, just waiting for it to go off.

It never did, of course. No mysterious messages, no buzzing in place of a perpetually-silenced ringtone, nothing, came from the device. Silence was her only companion in her room then, leaving the ringing din of her own anxiety to deafen her momentarily, her body frozen and her eyes fixated.

A rapping on her door jolted her from her unwitting stupor, and she called back, “Alright, alright, I’m coming! Just, uh… you know… you know what, nevermind.” She opened the door to see Ben outside, dressed and ready to go, Geno looking pale behind him.

Ben’s hair was still dripping wet, but he looked unnerved, his breathing fast. He still had an oversized beach towel, a stark yellow with smiling cartoon fish on it in a wave pattern, wrapped around himself, arms hugging it tightly. In one hand, though, he clutched his phone so tightly that his knuckles went from a dark bronze to a sickly white, his face seeming to be struggling to match it.

“Allison. You need to wait for me,” he said matter-of-factly, “Just… wait. Okay?” Allison looked to Geno, and the man in question rubbed the back of his neck, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Mind… telling me what’s up? You two… this looks bad,” Allison said slowly, her heart leaping into her throat and causing words to become difficult.

“He’s comin’ with us, Al,” Geno said, “Don’t worry ‘bout nothin’ else, okay? It’s nothin’.”

When the woman looked back to Ben, he averted his gaze, muttering gruffly, “It’s not nothing. But it’s pressing. It’s… look. I’ll explain when we get to Geno’s place, okay?” Allison nodded, dumbfounded. Ben was hardly ever so shaken; she wondered what had gotten into the two of them.

The Iranian man turned and pushed himself out of the hall, past Geno, and practically power-walked to his room, half-storming, half rushing. She wasn’t sure if he was angry or terrified. Perhaps, she reasoned, he’s both.

Geno gave her a lingering stare, a frown firmly in place, before he returned to his things, resting at the top of the long stairwell that descended to their front door. Allison followed in silence after she finally grabbed her phone from her bed, holding it in her hand tightly instead of placing it in the holster that dangled from the strap of her purse.

After a few scant minutes, Ben emerged from his room, curly hair slicked back on the side where it was prevalent from the water it yet retained. He wore a black, torn-up tanktop with the logo of some superhero Allison didn’t recognise on it, his necklace only evident by the chain that led down beneath the shirt. Baggy grey cargo pants with ripped, frayed bottoms barely hid his black, scuffed-to-oblivion steel-toed boots which he kicked things with pointlessly when he was bored. On his back was a camouflage backpack with additional black padding at the bottom, likely meant more for electronic equipment like his laptop and peripherals than anything else.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said darkly, and started for the door, pushing past both Geno and Allison. When he did, she saw something she wasn’t used to seeing dangling from his belt: a sheathed combat knife. She knew he had it, but she’d never seen him use it, despite his insistence that it was worth having. He’d never carried it with him before – he wasn’t some showy mall-ninja that wanted to impress people – but he was paranoid, and she saw it clearly here as he pounded down the stairs to the door.

“I- I guess we’re going, then,” she said weakly to Geno, who only nodded, not meeting her gaze, walking down before her. She swallowed hard, looking down at her phone one last time before she, too, descended the stairs to where Ben held open the door and Geno waited beside him, both men looking, disturbingly, blank.

“Come on,” Ben sighed, locking the door and turning, “We’re going to fast way, down East Ninth, toward Erie City.” Geno looked startled, but nodded. East Ninth street was ever a business centre in Cleveland, but walking the street itself was dangerous. There were no sidewalks down the stretch of road, and the utility tunnels that ran beneath were notorious for Snatcher activity.

“Why?” Allison asked, standing still, “That’s asking for trouble.” She frowned, folding her arms, phone still clutched tightly in her natural hand.

“…we were told to. Let’s go.”

She looked to Geno, alarmed, who then looked to Ben, but the man was already walking rather briskly down the hall toward the elevator. Geno turned to move too, so she set her jaw, holstered her phone and rushed after them.

[emanresusi-blog]

Musings of schizotypals Pt. 1

L.G. - I have a sucky sensation inside. Now that I might break up (for my own mental health) with my boyfriend, I have a sucky realization. I have no friends. I have pushed people for years, stablished unhealthy relationships for years. Now everyone is gone, and I cannot retake relationships that I pushed away years ago. I feel lonely. C.B. - Maybe my impulses to criticize others are a way to avoid criticizing myself. I find myself wanting to tell people that no one cares about their stupid lives but now I realize that's just one of the negative things I used to tell myself. I stopped the stream of negative thoughts about myself. But the thoughts are still there, just waiting to be applied to something. I need to channel this inner critic into something more productive. I know it is a facet of who I am, just one that I misuse a lot. It must be able to do some good somewhere. Constructive criticism about myself and my behavior perhaps. I should meditate on this. I'm feeling good but strangely devoid of emotion simultaneously. Like, my outlook on life is a generally optimistic one at the moment even though I'm not specifically happy about anything. I told my friend that I felt like something more was developing in my mind towards her and she wasn't scared off, so maybe that's why I feel optimistic. At the same time, I feel oddly suspicious and paranoid about her as well. Suspicious of her motives in continuing to talk to me after I told her how I felt, and paranoid for her safety at times (she's blind and also the tiniest little bit naïve, in my opinion). Extending my locus of emotional openness doesn't come easily to me. I really bond with other people to the point that I feel a bit like I'm losing myself. I don't like that feeling, but I love bonding with individuals at the same time. I suppose I'm just a bundle of contradictory neurons wrapped in a skull lol A.C. - So I'm sat in my porch locked out bags packed after another of my alcohol induced binge dissapearing acts I know "only Self to blame" I was only out drinking and chatting nothing bad, but I guess I am selfish, selfishly anaware and selfishly inconsiderate with what I don't think through or when I act rash. Slowly I've become more of a loner and made a habit of losing things family, friends umm jobs, it doesn't feel normal or nice that I might just be a procrastinative, selfish/absorbed individual who can't really get any sort of balance in personal life. I care about making amends and living a normal family life it's just... I don't know. Everyone blames me and punishes me, I don't want a scapegoat for my mistakes but it's very confusing I think if I didn't do what I did I'd damage my self by suppressing it all inside would be worse that's not a justification just a thought. Maybe leading a stable life, to work full time, three kids and relationship is too much. S.C - I suffer from depression and anxiety...I feel sometimes that im different of others because i think i have a few particularities(including that i have only two friends).I often try to explain to some that i can catch thoughts & feelings from people that i know...In fact,from complete stangers too ...I just thought if someone here could uderstand me? And I would like to add that is it okay not to fear of losing my few friends?I am 14 and feel like a misfit..I can't recognize what i am and don't remember who i used to be. R.R. - I have a weird feeling that I'm gonna die soon. Lol. Awkward. 2 near death experiences for me and 1 for my mom. Meh. Now I'm walking around every day with intense anxiety, waiting for an accident to happen. 😢 C.S. - I'm not doing well. I'm emotional... I cried for like half an hour today and I usually don't cry. But I've been sick over something I can't talk about. Very paranoid and scared. Such ugly ruminating thoughts. Barely slept last night and I have such a headache but my mind won't shut off. For the first time in years I feel like punching myself in the head. I've been taking my pills regularly. I see the shrink on Thursday. Which means I have to get through two days of work... I've been mildly sick with a cold for the last week. Oh help! I just want to feel better. A.M. - Today I keep seeing characters from TV shows as people in public spaces (anyone else experienced this?) and there was a shadow man in my lounge. It's odd and not making me paranoid which is also odd. Usually when freaky brain shit happens paranoia activates. Side note; Who the hell puts dried apricot in a hot cross bun!? C.B. - Sometimes I have this urge to be rude to people I don't like. Or that I decide are, as narcissistic as this sounds, beneath me morally or intellectually. It makes me very nervous to confront people but sometimes I do it out of impulse. Like I have this parallel line of thinking that just criticizes the hell out of everything I see. I let it build up and then let it out when I reach a certain level of resentment at the world. Afterwords I feel no better. But it's like I have this good side and this bad side to me. The bad side is the worst me I can imagine: lazy, thoughtless, critical, apathetic, and cruel. The good side is the best me I can imagine: empathetic, supportive, passive, thoughtful. I realize that I internalize these values from my primary caregivers growing up, my mother and first stepfather. I can't see the value in my stepfather very well. Jung had this idea of the Anima and the Animus. One male and the other female. I've always identified my values with the feminine due to the fact that the only support I ever got growing up was from women. I never understood men. I never understood women either for that matter. But they were the people I tried to emulate growing up. I couldn't stand the thought of being like my stepfather or boys my age until I became a teenager. Then I copied my stepfather and began to hate a lot. To be cruel a lot. Because that's all I saw in him. These impulses must be that old behavior rearing it's head. I've always wanted to be my own person but I've never quite known how. L. G. - Okay so I am going to lay one of my biggest problems right now and see if you can help me even if it's just a Little bit because I have no clue :( I finished university last year. Everything fine. My father came to my room and asked me, "what do you want to do next year? you have to think it NOW" and clearly wanted me, pushed me to do oposiciones (this is how we call the process of studying to get a job in the public system). I did the course for oposiciones. I HATED IT. God damn how boring, bland, deadly! I cannot even study for it or understand what they do. But my parents are 100% into it and they don't even contemplate me leaving them. I have to act like I study on days like those because they are so into this, specially my father, who sees working in the public system as my only chance in life because I am schizotypal. You can ask me questions, I will answer if it hasn't been understood. Thanks for the help :) L.G. - This is a bit of a hard to ask question but I will ask anyway...do you have problems maintaining your personal care, etc...? Sometimes I do and my family makes shame of me :( although i think really I'm not that much of a disaster. I mean, now I take care of myself, it's not like when I was really bad where I wouldn't take proper care of myself. L. G. - Do you ever feel like you've got too much contained in your chest and feel like telling anyone about it? Like you had an urge to tell what's ailing you? I've got Friends to talk with but I have too much in my chest and everyone looks like a friend to me now... S.S. - Two things I learnt about myself recently 1 - I will never be able to do a 9-5 job. Because I am too impatient and get angry when someone tells me what to do. Also overthink everything and get bored with routine. The only thing I can do is my own boss and work from home alone.I need to be in control. 2 - I can't ever picture myself in a relationship. I recently met a woman a bit older than myself but we share lots of interests and get on well. But I'm beginning to feel smothered and under pressure to behave a certain way. I just want to be a free individual with no responsibilities. I wasn't born to be a pack animal, but to give others as much freedom as possible and for them to not bug me in return. C.B. - Anyone else feel really anxious when they talk to other people about personal issues? It makes therapy very difficult for me. I'm too nervous around my therapist to open up to him, to really talk about the issues I have. I always just spend the time in my "therapy mode" (where I act pleasant and nice and talk about minor issues to avoid the larger ones). I don't feel like anybody can really help me with some things, and that I would just be making whoever I was talking to feel bad. I want to be able to talk about my motivations, my relationships, my feelings but they make me feel pathetic. Sometimes I feel like less than a person, like I'm really just wearing a mask when I behave as a normal human does. Trouble is I don't know for sure who or what is under that mask. D.S. - Had an irrational mental breakdown in public again one of those crying and screaming in equal parts of anger, frustration and sadness... why am I so easily overwhelmed sometimes.. plus I look kinda scary afterwards.. the neighbors already peg me for weird as it is... all emotionally shutdown and stuff only secs later.. I dont know its always like that.. overemotional first and a few seconds later back to the void.. im done. Im turning 23 tomorrow and I just wish I could skip to my funeral instead.. yeah.. one of those days.. A.M. - Does anybody else wander through life aimlessly? Never really finishing things they embark on, barely following their interests and feeling as though they're waiting for something to shake enough life into them to align them with the dimension that is reality... Being a drifting alien is really getting to me lately, I didn't realise how meaningless I find everything or how far I have drifted from society. I am not referring to deppression btw. P.A. - There’s something that’s killing me inside and I would really appreciate getting it out in a post. I really hope I don’t sound like a total bitch. It’s to do with abandonment, which I hope some people here will understand. I feel so abandoned by my counsellor. It’s the closest relationship I have. I sent her a text a few weeks ago saying I was sad and I never heard back. It has been my psych ward “anniversary” and I thought she’d message me to ask how I am but no nothing. Now she’s just become a grandmother... I know because I’m friends with her son. They are all super excited and spending lots of time together. He is sending me photos of the new baby but it’s just making me even more upset. Why can’t I just be happy for them? I feel so bad and self-centred for feeling this way. I know this little girl will be spoilt rotten with love and I’m jealous, there’s no other word for it. I suspect this is triggering an ancient wound in me, a hole that I’ve never managed to fill. My friend wants to see me tonight but I’m just too upset to see him and I can’t explain to him why *hides under table* C.B. - Sometimes I feel like I am more comfortable being depressed than I am being happy. Being sad feels, I don't know, solid, constant, whereas happiness is a fleeting and ephemeral feeling. Because of this, I got used to lying to myself to make myself more depressed. Don't know if that makes any sense, but I used to love laying in bed and thinking terrible things about myself until I cried my eyes out. I guess I craved that sense of catharsis. These days, I realize that this isn't a healthy way of coping, but I still crave the cathartic feeling I used to get by working myself into a terrible place. I think maybe I crave intense release of emotion because I have a hard time letting go of emotions in the moment and I kind of bottle them up. I still crave that. It's odd, I suppose I'm working to integrate the disparate parts of my personality into a functioning whole. It's like the emotional part of me exists kind of parallel to the rest, separate but connected in form if not function. A.C. - I guess if you can't do anything consistently but your capable of being extremely creative which many are here. Your purpose in life is to create a masterpiece not stand in line and fit the system. S.S. - Got told I'm too much of a negative person earlier and that I should keep all my thoughts secret. But the truth is I only say about 10% of what's actually on my mind. I'm too truthful about my flaws. The last thing I wanna be is a fake who brags. I can't help who I am.

[rkalzainwritersstory-blog]

Revenge: part 3

You weren’t an atheist your whole life.  In fact, you have been brought up within a very religious family. It was only when you came into the country that you declared your atheism. However it wasn’t due to your disbelief in the presence of god. You were just angry with him so you decided to banish him from your mind and heart by convincing yourself and others that you were an atheist. But you can’t help but revisit him at times when you feel upset, lost or even happy. He’s always on your mind but you wouldn’t admit. Within the past three months, you found yourself praying from time to time. You were at your lowest point and you knew that no one would help you except him…

You popped your first pill for the day as you sat on the couch patiently waiting for its effect. It’s funny how much life could change within such a short time. You laughed in your head at how much changed.

‘Did you take your pill?’

You saw the message but ignored it. ‘He’s so annoying I swear’ you said to yourself while Still on the couch.  Nabil was very protective of you. Like a brother or a good looking friend you cannot have feelings for. Most importantly, he was your ex-boyfriend’s friend and also the only one who helped you when you changed cities and moved for the second time, three months ago. After that incident, all you could feel is shame and embarrassment. You just wanted to run away. And you did. Within one day, you managed to empty the necessary things from your apartment, change your number and move into an apartment that was roughly about an hour away from the loft. You were so lucky as an apartment was evacuated a month ago in Nabil’s story and he managed to hold it for you.  You abandoned your old life and learned to live in the new one. You spent these three months mending what broke. You will never forget that day… you remember staring at his back in disbelief as he exited your apartment. Your body was shaking, your heart was about to stop. It felt as if you were hit by a train. You couldn’t even cry, your body went numb and you just stared at the door…

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard someone knock at your door.

“Open it’s me, Nabil” he shouted from outside.

You told Nabil everything short after you moved. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and he was your only friend after you decided to cut off your relationship with everyone at the loft. You didn’t even talk to them; you didn’t explain, you didn’t call, nothing. You just left without notice that same day. You can’t help but wonder how they felt when they came to your apartment and found it completely emptied or how they felt when they found out that you changed your number. You wanted everything that reminded you of Milos to be destroyed. You didn’t want to remember him, you hated him, you hated his gut. You wouldn’t even allow yourself to cry. Nights after nights, you’re ashamed of yourself, of your body, of how you gave everything to him. You hated that you loved him, you hated that you believed him, you hated how you forgot your morals and your god at a moment of weakness. You were going crazy. Anxiety and stress creeped into your body and you’d stay awake for days. You couldn’t eat or drink, you’d throw up the moment you’d smell anything meaty or even buttery. Your body became very weak and if it wasn’t for Nabil; you wouldn’t be alive today as suicidal thoughts visited your head every single sleepless night. Every broken sob you held in was piling into your heart.  God sent you Nabil that night. The night you finally broke, you were on the floor sobbing and screaming, you were panting hard as you lay on the floor for a second only to get up again and smash what’s around you.  You couldn’t take it anymore; you didn’t know what to do.  You wanted this to be a lie, you loved him, you hated him, you wanted to kill him and set yourself free from this torture. But all you could do was scream, sob and crash whatever you could see in front of you.  Nabil darted into your front door upon hearing your screams and pinned you against him but you wouldn’t stop; you completely lost control of your body. He was still battling with you but you eventually caved in. ‘what have I become?’ you asked yourself the next day as you were sitting in the waiting room of a psychologist’s clinic with him. You took blood tests and sooner than you thought, you were popping antidepressants and stress relief pills every day.

 He eyed you up and down before entering. “You keep ignoring my texts and I will keep showing up at your doorstep” he said as he made his way into your living room. You leaned against the still open door. “Am not a child Nabil! “

“Then why do you act like one?”

“Oh shut up! Where’s Rama?”

“She’s not coming, close the door” and you did.

He finally sat down after bombarding you with his questions about your lunch, your sleep, and your medicines. He even went as far as asking whether you were showering regularly or not. He was so weird sometimes. But he was very kind and you knew he meant well. He eyed your pill container that was still on the table. “Hey! There are only three pills left! You’re so careless I swear! “He literally screamed at you and you just stood there staring at him. You couldn’t help but giggle and mock at his reaction. “Chill” You said trying to muffle your laugh. “I am not careless; I plan on going to get another bottle tomorrow”

He glared at you silently before accusing you of being a liar.” You invited me and Rama tomorrow to spend the day here. Where you going to leave us and go? “He caught you. You were in fact careless. In right words, you didn’t give a fuck.  You took in all his lecturing before you moved to sit near him on the couch, leaning your head into the back cushion. “Nabil?” you eyed him until he nodded. “How is he? Joseph I mean” he looked taken aback by your question.  You could make that out by the way he stared at you. “He missed you when you dumped him for that bitch” he said before turning his face from yours. You were still eyeing him silently. “You really broke his heart but look at you now. Karma is a bitch, isn’t it? “You felt embarrassed and ashamed because you knew that what you did to joseph was horrible. You didn’t love him. You didn’t care for him at all, he was an object you used for a while to attract Milos and you selfishly broke up with him when you felt that he was serious about his love for you. “I will never tell him what Milos did to you, no matter how much I want to. I promise you that” his eyes were back to you now. “I will protect you. I promise that as well” you turn your head to the other side as you feel little tears pooling in your eyes but not enough to make you cry. Those pills were good at their job.

---x

You woke up the next day to the sound of Rama singing in your room while searching through your closet. Nabil has a key to your apartment. So you figured that’s how they both entered. You loved waking up with someone. Waking up to an empty apartment is a horrible feeling. You smiled as you took in her horrible voice along with the bright sun invading half your bed through the window. You got up, kissed her neck from behind and ran into the bathroom before Nabil sees your ugly sleepy face.

It was about 5pm and it was already the hundredth time Nabil has reminded you of buying a new pill bottle. So you give in, got dressed and headed to the nearest pharmacy. It was about ten minutes away by walk.

“I am sorry dear but I don’t have the third prescription!”  He said while eyeing his laptop.

“Oh please Dave! Please look again I cannot live without any of them, they’re important” you begged him. Dave has been providing you weekly with your pills for the past two months. This is the first time he doesn’t supply them completely.

You got out of the pharmacy and stood there for a few minutes trying to remember if you saw any other pharmacies in the area. You remembered one that was close to the loft but you weren’t going there.  What If you ran into them? You catch your head with your left hand as you start panicking. ‘I deserve it! I always wait until the last second!”  You scolded yourself. Right after that, you heard Dave screaming your name as he bumps into you from behind. “Oh thank god you’re still here. I spoke to my friend. He was able to grab a bottle from a pharmacy near him. If you want you can meet up with him now and collect it” you felt your shoulders relax when suddenly they tense again upon hearing the address he gave you. Very close to the loft. You mind jumped here and there while Dave was still waiting for your response. You had no choice. You used the train station and continued your way walking until you met the guy and took the pills. Your head was turning right and left; keeping your eye out in case you see any of them. ‘If you see any of them, just run!’ you said to yourself. You let out a sigh of relief while heading back to the train station. ‘Thank god’ you kept repeating in your mind. You turned your head to the back a few times; you couldn’t help but feel followed. Maybe it was your mind playing games with you as of how paranoid you were or, there was someone following you indeed. You looked around while in the train, not being suspicious, trying to find a familiar face. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you tried to relax yourself into the seat.

You stood at your apartment door, chuckling and giggling at how loud Nabil and Rama were blasting the music. You entered and Nabil was looking all funny, belly dancing in the living room to some Algerian song. You sat on the couch and threw bills at them while they funny dance. Laughing and giggling sounded the whole apartment and you heard a muffled knock on the door. You got up, back walking towards the door; you couldn’t take your eyes off the hilarious scene in front of you. You slowly turn around and opened the door. You barely moved as you tried to hide a giggle forming in your stomach upon seeing three very familiar angry faces infront of you. You managed to cover how you really felt as you eyed each of them, face first, until your eyes landed on that particular third and you felt your body burn in fires of hell. You wanted to jump grab his neck and bite into it so hard, rip his glands out and watch him suffocate on the floor. But you had enough of this weakness. You managed to paint the most disrespectful grin on your face as you look from beneath your shoulder at both the dancers in your living room. Nabil saw you and started hopping his way near you.  He looked drunk and you wanted to laugh at how dedicated he was to his hip movements. “Who are these?” he looked at you and then at the three of them.

You grinned again at them and said “go inside Nabil, I’ll deal with them and get back to you”

The anger you had for Milos formed into hate that didn’t just affect him but affect George and Joshua as well. You didn’t stand looking at their faces. You hated their faces. You wanted to punch them so hard.

Nabil looked at you, shocked by your sudden rudeness. He had never seen you this disrespectful before. So he decided to drop a ‘chill out’ resonating sentence. “We’ll be in your room, you guys are welcome inside” you glare at him and watch him call Rama into the bedroom. ‘I will show him’ you promised yourself as you eyed Nabil. You didn’t spare a look at them as you left the door opened and headed towards the living room to which all three followed.

You sat at the couch and motioned to them to sit on the opposite one.

“What?” you said so coldly as you laid both your elbows on your parted knees. You saw George’s anger pool in his eyes, venom standing on the top of his teeth. He didn’t waste any time as he starting spiting his words into your face.

“Don’t ‘what’ me! What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you leave like that without saying a word? Three fucking months and am searching for you everywhere! You want to leave? Fuck it. Say so, don’t just leave like that! “His voice started to break and you could see his expressions softening. Joshua stared at you while Milos’s head was hanging low on his shoulder. “How can you do that to me huh?” his voice lowered. “What did I do? What did any of us do?” upon hearing that, you felt your blood boil. You wanted to scream at them, tell them what that fucker did. You were surprised that he didn’t voice his victory though but you stayed silent. “What happened to you? Why are you being so cold? Answer me, say something. Who are those people and what were those pills you took from that random man on the street?” his voice rose again as he finally screamed “say something!”

You calmly raised your eyes to meet his as you slowly lay your back against the couch.

“You guys clearly didn’t get the hint. I moved once and you followed me. I moved again and again, you followed me.” You giggled, loud enough for them hear. “I mean, fuck. Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you or know you or deal with you and the trash on your right” Milos sat on George’s right. George was so shocked by your behavior, your rudeness and your sudden resentment. He looked deep into your eyes as he was trying to find something from the old you to hold on to but he couldn’t. He starred at Milos knowing well after what you said, that your problem was with Milos as well. Milos still held his head down. “Now listen to me” you continued “forget what we were once and move on. Now, I don’t have any time for this, get out of my apartment.” You said as you starred right into their eyes, stood up and went into the bedroom; leaving them to exit your apartment.

--x--

[kendrasyrdal]

Five Things (2.5.17.)

1. I have a problem with competition. I am a naturally very competitive person - and that’s a trait that has gone absolutely nowhere as I’ve gotten older. I love winning. I love being the best. I love having people be jealous of me. It’s stupid and it’s petty and it’s slightly childish, but it’s a part of what makes me me if I’m being completely honest. I don’t know how to stop myself from trying to always be the best and just be okay with being. I think to a certain extent this has been drilled into me from my acting days. When I was in theatre, being competitive was not only more pressing, it was a basic necessity in order to get a job. If you weren’t the best you weren’t hired. If you weren’t hired, no dollars. No dollars, no more acting. End of story. But now, being the so-called “best” is more a personal thing than it is about making sure I get a paycheck and continue on my trajectory. The problem with my competitive-ness is it’s ultimately unsatisfiable. There will always be further to go. And I think for a change, instead of going - I need to stop. 

2. I’m fighting really terrible anxiety lately, like the worst my anxiety has been in probably two to three years. Some of the triggers are obvious. The current political climate, the prospect of moving this year, my best friend moving outside of the city, traveling for things, saving money, etc etc. But the rest of it is...less obvious. And that’s the most frustrating thing about things like anxiety and depression. The root of the problem is often very difficult to pinpoint....or entirely non-existant. So I’m just not sleeping and feeling very paranoid and picking at my skin and it’s all very fun and glam and adorkable. 

3. I officially killed the fern in my apartment. He lasted 8 months. RIP fern. 

4. It’s a very weird moment when you come to realize that the people who you look up to are human. I know we’re all very in love with the idea of humanizing people, and I totally get it. But at the same time I kind of like the idea that my idols have their shit totally together. That there’s some aspirational level of togetherness that is ultimately achievable if you unlock or reach some meta status. And it’s not that I just don’t want to hear about it. I never would want someone to feel like, “This is bad for my brand,” about sharing their struggles. But it is a weird moment when someone who you put on a pedestal chooses to step off of it to a certain extent. It’s humanizing and a moment for both parties, and it’s a little sad when you really think about it. 

5. In my late teens and early twenties, and then a rehash from 23 to 25 after a few years of stability, I was a quintessential party girl. I popped pills, I drank too much, I slept on couches in the arms of various musicians. You name it, I probably have a story involving it. This week I’ve been making my way through Cat Marnell’s amazing memoir, and it’s bringing a lot of those memories back. And I would be lying if I didn’t say that there’s this weird part of me that is very jealous of her. Her messiness is presented very glamorously. It’s packaged with glitter and magazines and bright colors on the cover. Tres chic! And while realistically, I know it’s not wise or practical or anything to want the life of an addict, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that there is a part of me that wishes my mess was pretty. That wishes that the stories of the schizophrenic love interest and the alcohol poisoning were coupled with designer labels and beauty editors instead of trailer parks and very mediocre people. Sure, it’s all about how you tell the story. But it’s easy to look at someone like Cat and wish you had an element of her magic. I think that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. Magic. And I think, at the root of all of this, I still do.

[nevinitambay-blog]

Close Reading *The Invitation* (2015), or; Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean the world isn’t out to get you.

Hey, everyone! I hope you all had a good week figuring out what you find funny! Now it’s time to figure out the opposite by wading into horror waters by doing a close reading of The Invitation. Keep in mind that I am a scaredy-cat and that this is a cold viewing for me. If you like this movie and would like to point out what I’ve missed, then please drop me a message in the comments or contact me directly on whichever social media platform you are most comfortable with. (I’ll put all that info at the bottom of this article). Let’s do this!

For movies like this, the devil is often in burying the clues in the details, so, if you want to see effective storytelling, it is useful to list what you notice and go over later how the ending was completely obvious, even though you don’t quite see it coming. If you haven’t seen this movie before, I suggest you watch it before reading on since this is a very spoilable movie. The following are the devilish details as I notice them:

While talking and beginning to bicker about his divorce with Kira, Will hits a coyote with the car. He then kills it using a tire iron.

Kira asks about how much money Will and Eden had, and Will says that all the money was Eden’s. This is weird, because usually assets in marriage are equally shared. Next, David offers Will an ’85 Rothschild, which we are informed costs millions of dollars a bottle through the dialog.

Eden and David are really happy to see Will, not a common behavior in exes, especially since we know Will is a bit bitter about the divorce from the coyote scene.

Eden licks her finger to wipe blood off of Will’s cheek. Since it was fresh and he has a full beard, we can assume he didn’t get that blood on his cheek from shaving.

When David pours wine for Kira, he brings our attention to our own mortality by saying “We shouldn’t put off enjoying what we have.” Usually, this would apply to the post-break-up sentiment “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone”, but the way he said it evokes the sentiment of old people to “enjoy life while you can”. It doesn’t fit neatly into either category, so it will be viewed with suspicion.

A member of the group, Choi, is already not present, but warrants mention, so he is a variable we have no account for; we don’t even know why he isn’t there.

Will sees a woman in the doorway of what appears to be a bedroom during David’s toast. So, on top of not having someone present who should be there (Choi) we also have someone present who shouldn’t be (she isn’t dressed for the gathering/reunion when Will sees her). She also says directly that she appreciates being allowed to crash the party.

What does giving the house a new start even mean? It means the house is probably alive or haunted.

They have bars in the windows of a secluded house. That means the bars are there to keep people in. It’s a trap!

Ben says that they are all “consenting adults”. Soon after, Eden says “pain is optional”. This suggests that there is probably going to be an orgy-based ritual sacrifice. Judging by Eden’s lashing out at Ben when he called her crazy, this hypothesis is pretty strong, especially when it is followed by Eden being nice to Ben. This is a method of behavioral conditioning used by abusive spouses and cult leaders.

A much older man than most people in attendance, Pruitt, arrives to much fanfare by Sadie, the party crasher. The friend group doesn’t recognize him or expect him to be there. He rejects an offer of alcohol, making him one of the few people in attendance who isn’t drinking. Will has an excuse for not taking anything from David. Pruitt doesn’t have an excuse for sobriety at this point, which is suspicious.

There is no cell phone service. Eden and David make an excuse about not having a landline, citing not keeping up with “bills”. Remember that $8 million bottle of wine?

David locks the door with a key from the inside. The excuse for having that be due to a home invasion on another house nearby doesn’t make sense. Will has a point by saying it would prevent evacuating the building in the case of a fire. So why not just have the standard deadbolt with no key hole on the other side? Why a key? It is so only the person/people with the key can get out.

Notice how David says “It’s my house.” when Will said the wealth was all Eden’s.

When Eden was standing at the window, she hurriedly put what she was holding into the drawer of a nightstand. If it were a tissue and she was crying (which is also weird after she said all those things about pain being a choice), she would have put it in a trashcan. So what was she saving after just talking to Kira after sending Will out for firewood? Did she intend for him to see her there? I’m going with “yes” and that she just put a message for help in that drawer for him.

When Will goes to see what it was, we see that it was the bedroom Sadie was standing in the doorway of earlier. He finds a bottle of pills (I’m guessing anti-depression medicine, but there are no labels) and saves one. He gets caught snooping by David.

Up to this point, there are three memories of a child: the boy putting a puzzle together when Will and Kira arrived, the laughter when Will went to get firewood, and the memory of him walking in on Will and Eden in a bath. However, there has been no outright mention or appearance of him. Why? I think it is because the boy died. This lines up with Will mentioning a support group in the coyote scene.

David insists that they are not in a cult. We all know that means they are in one. Note that the people wearing the bracelets are Eden, David, Sadie, and Pruitt. I can’t see Miguel’s or Will’s wrist, so I don’t know about them.

There is another uninvited guest who isn’t Choi. David said it was people looking for a party on foot. It is super weird to look for a party at a secluded house.

Miguel tells Will the pill he found in the nightstand was an old school barbiturate. The Wikipedia article on barbiturates (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbiturate) says that phenobarbital was introduced in 1912, and that barbiturates aren’t prescribed so much anymore. Eden having those pills is thus both shady and really old school.

Sadie kisses Gina after she participated in the “I Want” game. David, the recovered coke addict, provides cocaine to Gina after she says she wants it. Pruitt reveals that his wife died after he hit her as hard as he could (the mention of serving time indicates murder or manslaughter). Eden kisses Ben (something something orgy).

People keep distracting Will from watching Claire leave. We are left with the information that Pruitt stopped her from driving away. Pruitt comes in later with the cryptic information that he apologized to Claire for his story and she seemed to understand.

There are multiple accusations of Will acting weird and shady, yet he seems to be acting the most reasonable to me, considering the circumstances. When he is on the balcony, we learn that the house isn’t very secluded, so there should be signal. Finally, through a voicemail, we learn that Choi was actually early and got there before everyone else. So where is he? (dun dun dun) After a very confrontational outburst, Choi finally arrives. (I think we and Will are being gaslighted.)

While Will is in Ty’s old room, David lights a red lantern in the back yard while no one is there. Will then finds a video of the cult leader on the laptop that is in the office where his son’s room used to be. The cult leader says “Tonight is the night our faith is made real” after saying things like “Remember the reward” etc. Remember that orgy/ritual sacrifice I mentioned earlier? That’s back on the table. (Pruitt, the stranger who murdered his wife, is the one sent to gather Will, not one of his close friends or Eden.)

When Will tells everyone not to drink the wine, Sadie attacks him for ruining “it” and Gina stops breathing. While it is plausible Gina is overdosing on cocaine and Sadie is just being a wacko, there is no alternative explanation when David shoots Miguel when he is performing CPR on Gina.

There are several components of a well written thriller. The first are the buried details that I mentioned at the start, the ones that give the outcome credibility, make the ending obvious in hindsight. The second is the red herring, which is the suspicious absence of Choi, that makes us doubt whether or not our observations are correct, or whether or not the narrator is reliable (here the narrator is Will and the point of view is Close Third Person). The third is the twisting of anxieties such as the fear of gaslighting, actually going crazy, cult mentalities, the loss of a child, the fear of your ex’s new lover, invisible conspiracies (all the red lanterns at the end), and not being able to get help from authorities/first responders. The last component of a thriller is the optimism that we can overcome what we are anxious about (even if that is just barely managed): Will, Kira, and Tommy fight back and survive, as well as Will figuring out what was going on before everyone was killed.

If you want to write a good horror, then take all these components, subtract reason, add some supernatural elements, focus more on the murdering, and kill everyone by the end. Oh and stress the whole “no matter how much you call for help, no one is going to save you”. Great, now I’ve spooked myself. Happy writing!

What did you think of this week’s movie? Did you find a new technique for storytelling in it? Do you have questions for me? Is there a movie you would like me to write about? Let me know in the comments, tweet me (https://twitter.com/NeviniTambay), message me through Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/nevini.tambay), message me through Google+ (https://plus.google.com/u/1/104262718026029613816), or shoot me an email (nevinitambay@gmail.com)! I look forward to hearing from you! I post new articles on Wednesdays. Please remember to upvote, like, subscribe, and/or follow me on other social media if you find these articles useful and want to see more!

[dollypopup]

You know, maybe it’s not your fault that Tumblr recommends these posts because it has Stein x Marie or SteinMarie in it or that it shows up in the searches. Truly, that’s on Tumblr. But you know what? Being an abelist asshat? That’s on YOU. And, frankly, I am so sick and tired of this bullshit misinformation that I’m nipping this shit in the bud right now.

You need to shut up. No, seriously, your ableist self needs to sit down and be quiet about SteinMarie, especially considering your predominate Stein ship is one where Stein is Spirit’s abuser. You have some sort of weird problem where SteinMedusa, actual romanticized and sexualized abuse, and SteinSpirit, the same, is somehow on the same level as SteinMarie because you 10000% misinterpret their relationship or you don’t like ‘the hets’ or whatever other bullshit. 

But fine, you know what? I’ll bite. 

the entire basis of the ship is the mentality of ‘you can absolutely cure this mentally ill person’s mental illness with your presence and love, that is totally how this works’ and before anyone comes at me to say otherwise that is literally the reason marie was placed with stein to begin with, she was put there to cure his madness*

1. You can’t cure something mental illness with your love. It’s impossible. I say that as a mentally ill woman. I can also say, as a mentally ill woman in a romantic relationship with another woman, that having someone there that loves you and accepts you and cares about you HELPS. It fucking HELPS so MUCH. Am I still depressed when I’m with my girlfriend? My friends? OF COURSE I AM. I can’t will my depression away with a good day, or a happy word. I can’t do that shit. I can never do that shit. I’m depressed no matter what. I’m paranoid no matter what. I will still check and recheck my bag for something, despite KNOWING I put it away, to the point where I’ll be late all the time because I can’t leave my house without being SURE. I’ll still have episodes when I want to lay down and stop existing. I’ll still sleep for 18 hours. I’ll still refuse to get out of bed or shower or brush my hair or my teeth. I’ll still be horrifically anxious. But when I’m with her, I feel BETTER. Not better in the sense that, YIPPEE!! I’M CURED!. But better in the sense that, wow, I’m a piece of shit, but someone LOVES me, so that must mean I’m worth SOMETHING. 

2. Marie was partnered with Stein, not to cure his madness, but to be support for him. She’s described as a positive influence. Not as his magically happy pill that will bring rainbow and sunshine and flowers and smiles. And, frankly, MARIE DOESN’T WANT THIS, EITHER. Marie was never MEANT to be Stein’s cure. She was meant to help him COPE. THERE’S A DIFFERENCE AND IT’S A BIG ONE. 

3. Marie isn’t even there to help with Stein’s ‘madness’. She’s there to help with the Kishin’s INFLUENCE. Keep in mind; STEIN WAS FINE FOR TEN+ YEARS BEFORE THIS SHIT HAPPENED. He was still a total creep, bless his heart, he was still making morbid jokes, he was still depressed, he was still a chain smoker. EVERYTHING. If they wanted SO BADLY to have his madness ‘fixed’, why not bring in the woman earlier? Oh, because SHE CAN’T DO THAT.

* = the fact that madness is in soul eater a nebulous concept that can in fact be fought by things such as marie’s healing wavelength means that the in-world logic of this is sound, but there’s real-world stuff to consider too. by playing this particular card soul eater’s narrative tacitly endorses the myth that mental illness can be cured by other people’s care and love and that narrative is really, really goddamn ableist

1. Marie’s ‘healing wavelength’ and Maka’s ‘anti-madness wavelength’ are two sides to the same coin, and yet no one calls SoMa ableist. Wanna know why? Because it isn’t. In the slightest. 

2. In the real-world logic of it all, Marie’s healing wavelength acts more as a MEDICATION would. You know, the thing that us mentally ill peeps take?

3. This is somewhat of a tangent, but it still needs to be said:

MENTAL ILLNESS FUCKING SUCKS!!!!! IT SUCKS!!! IT’S HORRIBLE! I HATE HAVING IT! I hate being mentally ill. I hate not being able to focus. I hate not being able to pay attention. I hate not being able to get up and do things other people can do with seemingly no issues. I hate sleeping for 14 hours and wasting my day. I hate depression naps. I hate anxiety attacks. I hate having to check and recheck and check and recheck and check and recheck. I hate it. I HATE IT. And you know what I do because i hate it? I COPE. I find ways to cope. I call my friends to talk to them. i hang out. I have mental health days. I talk to my girlfriend. I eat food that makes me happy, that tastes good. And, yes, I go to the people who care about me and love me and want to see me happy for comfort and support because that is a COPING TACTIC and it’s IMPORTANT. So fuck off with this bullshit that Soul Eater is trying to cure mental illness. Soul is still mentally ill at the end. Stein is still mentally ill at the end. Marie is still disabled. Spirit still has PTSD (from what Stein did to him). They grow as characters but they don’t get CURED you soggy turnip. 

stein actively avoids interpersonal connection and emotional bonds only to have someone who clearly wants that out of him inserted into his life and the fact that he doesn’t actively resist it doesn’t mean it’s something he wants for himself! in general i feel like marie fell in love with stein because she pitied him and wanted to help fix him and honey that ain’t love that’s going to end up with both of you unhappy and unfulfilled in the long run if you treat it as such

I have a LOT of problems with this passage in particular, so, hell, where do I start?

1. Stein doesn’t actively avoid interpersonal connection and emotional bonds. . .at all?????

2. Marie doesn’t clearly want ANYTHING out of Stein, actually

3. STEIN is the one who encourages a connection with MARIE, not the other way around

4. There’s no indication, AT ALL, of Marie being with Stein because she pities him or wants to fix him at all? Like at all? Not even a little bit? In the manga, it is STEIN who pursues Marie romantically. Marie is just doing her own shit in the corner, chilling out. And I think you’re being super ableist by projecting this bullshit onto her, and also hella sexist by not noticing that Marie Mjolnir is a character that exists outside of Stein and always has. She had opportunities to be with other people, such as Joe, and even then didn’t immediately jump for the chance. So back off with your misogynistic bullshit

“but the manga ending” the manga ending is bullshit! everyone knows this! we as a fandom have opted to ignore it for a good reason! we can agree that a ton of the stuff in there was super ooc and best considered noncanon but for some damn reason when i say that stein and marie getting together was super ooc and best considered noncanon i need to ‘acknowledge and respect canon’ or some crap along those lines

I mean. Okay? But Stein and Marie were looming toward getting together from the START? The holding of each other? The fact that only she calls him by his first name? The tenderness he harbors toward her? The smiles he grants her. The gentleness? The romance? The holding each other under the moonlight with leaves falling around them?

So, like, you don’t have to ‘respect canon’, but this has been coming for a LONG time. Just about when Azusa asked if Stein was Marie’s first love, actually. That’s how long

But

Fine. 

How’s this then?

Oh, yeah. Super OOC. Stein doesn’t care about Marie at ALL! Even strapped down to a table, later with a scalpel over his face, he’s asking what happened to her. She’s the first person on his mind, his primary concern. Romance? LOL. Of COURSE not!!

Oh, but- what’s this?

Utter and absolute devastation at seeing Marie standing on his roof, about to jump? Stein, screaming her name as he runs toward her? Medusa recognizing that Marie means so much to him that very little would traumatize him more than Marie’s death? Romance? OF COURSE NOT!!!

But- wait, you mean to tell me there’s MORE?

The place he should return to is the lab? Where Marie is? Where he’s devastated when Marie jumps? HOME? 

Stein, letting Marie decorate his house like they’re already spouses? Stein, saying ‘I’m home!’ for Marie’s benefit in said house? Stein, accepting Marie’s hand WILLINGLY and HAPPILY falling into her arms? What is this OOC garbage!? It’s NOT like Stein has very clearly ALWAYS had a soft spot for her! Shame on the manga for getting him so wrong! Shame shame shame!! 

like you’re really going to tell me that stein would trust himself to be a husband and father. u REALLY think he wouldn’t be having a breakdown over most likely passing down the genetic horseshit that made his own life so hard. u REALLY think that someone who actively discourages others from emotional closeness from him and makes a consistent effort to be self-isolating would be happy with becoming part of a family. bullshitte

But, you know what? Nothing. NOTHING could have prepared me for the most ableist of the ableist of comments. 

As I reiterate, Stein does NOT actively discourage others from emotional closeness with him. He NEVER has.

And you know what? STEIN LOVES MARIE. 

AND SHE STILL DOESN’T FIX HIM!!!!!

If anything, SPIRIT is the one who is showing that he would rather Stein just be cured of his mental illness. Because Spirit, not Marie, is Stein’s babysitter. 

But, I digress: “I have senpai and Marie, my students, everyone back at Shibusen. . .but it doesn’t change the fact that. . .I’ll have to live with this irritating and gloomy feeling for the rest of my life, huh?”

Do you see that? STILL MENTALLY ILL!!! Still starting a family, still in love with Marie, still in a CANON RELATIONSHIP with Marie, still in a mutually loving relationship with Marie. 

But furthermore, and most importantly:

MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE CAN HAVE FAMILIES!!! WE CAN BE PARENTS! WE CAN BE SPOUSES! WE MAKE DAMN GOOD PARENTS AND SPOUSES AND FRIENDS!!! We have hearts. We are not broken. We are capable of all of it! In fact: MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE HAVE FAMILIES ALL THE TIME!!! AND WE HAVE SPOUSES, TOO! MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE GET MARRIED! WE ADOPT DOGS! WE ADOPT KIDS! 

Is it A narrative, and a perfectly valid one, that some mentally ill folks are afraid of this, or don’t want it, or feel hindered in some way? OF COURSE!!! Of course that’s a narrative! But you know what? It’s one that is OVER-SATURATED in the media. My only representation as a mentally ill person is as a serial killer. Or being dangerous. Or being unable to have relationships. Or being a problem. Or being a mess. Or being destructive and corrosive and irresponsible. My only narrative in media is being a burden, or incapable of holding a healthy relationship. My only narrative is fucking up my kids, or hurting people. 

And don’t you see how amazing, how AMAZING it is!!! That that isn’t what Stein is here for? That he’s not inspiration porn for neurotypical peeps? That he can and wants to start a family? That he’s still his same old morbid, silly, ridiculous self? That Marie doesn’t change who he is? That she doesn’t magically fix his mental illness?

I don’t understand WHAT beef you have with this ship. I genuinely, truly don’t. As a neurodivergent individual, this ship gave me HOPE. It gave me the chance to see that I am, in fact, NOT broken! I need no fixing! Someone out there will love me, scars and all, panic attacks and all, tears and depression and all!!! Stein never WANTED to be alone! He never wanted to be self-isolated. He was visited by Nygus, and Sid! He became a teacher. He immediatly accepted Marie into his home. Joked with her, even! Stein took to family, found family in particular, like a fish to water. He took to being a mentor and a father figure so easily. He took to being Marie’s significant other with an ease that felt immediately believable. It wasn’t OOC that they got together. Your idea of who Stein is is OOC. 

And your idea of who MARIE is? God, that’s even worse. 

WHAT is abelist about THIS?

Or, as Marie says in the DUB

“There’s no need to fix it. Or destroy it, either. You just have to accept it as a part of you.”

tl;dr: when i said that there are no good stein ships i meant every word of it

When you say there are no good Stein ships, you’re full of shit. And the fact that you read a healthy, loving, supportive and accepting ship as ableist? That says more about YOU than it does about ANYTHING else.

so, @cursedwithimperfection: SteinMarie is a good ship and you shipping it is good and they are healthy and nice and kind and super in love. <3 <3 <3

your stein shipping options range from ‘bad’ to ‘abysmal’ with a small detour into ‘requited affection mired in some of the nastiest history possible’ if you ship him with anyone at all you’ve already lost