#I do so much work in therapy to fill this hole in myself

[teethpaste]

It’s so weird how the body will try and protect you like. I am incapable of feeling grief right now. I know it will hit me like a fucking Mac truck in about a month

When I was here in Ireland in July thinking my grandma had days to live, because the doctors told us so, and urged everyone stateside to drop what they were doing and come to Ireland for goodbyes, I was torn up. I was the first one here because I was already in Dublin on business and luckily my job just let me work from Ireland for about 2 months. So that happened. But then she got palliative chemo, and somehow here she is, 5 months later, against the odds in stage 4 lung cancer. I can tell she is so tired. I feel like she was holding on for this holiday and that as soon as I leave Ireland come December 29, it’s going to happen quickly. Which I hate to even write into existence, but sometimes, you just feel it.

And I hope it doesn’t. But I also don’t want her to be in pain. Chemo ravages the body. Her last treatment was over a month ago but the cancer has spread through her whole body and it is wearing her down. She went from still bartending at 77 and going out with her friends weekly + walking the 2 mile trek into town everyday, to finding out she a tumor overtaking her right lung (completely collapsed at this point) from years of smoking. I was sitting with her at the table the other night before I went to the pub, painting her nails, and she asked “can we talk about something morbid”

Things hardly feel morbid these days. So I tell her yes, of course. I feel like I have this desensitized view around death now. Or I’m numb to it. Like my body remembers watching my dad die and is like HEY ITS FINE, don’t be sad in the moment. Because you can’t be. You have things to do. Then you can cave in on yourself.

Anyways, when I told her sure we can, she then got embarasssd and I had to beg a little for her to tell me . She then says “right. Because I know you’ll have the energy to handle”. She just tells me how she wants to be presented for her wake. No makeup, but make sure her eyebrows are done. Hair with a bandana. Jean shirt. Nails painted. Cowboy boots on that she never got to wear in Vegas this year. She starts telling me about where jewelry is and what she wants in a service. I listen and file it away.

I still think I’m stuck on “because you’ll have the energy to handle”. I think about when my dad died, my mom and sister were inconsolable. About how it happened so quickly and we as humans make it very complicated. Do you know how hard it is to transfer a body across state lines? The hospital doesn’t tell you what to do. I had to google so many funeral homes that morning. I think about those people too. The sanitized nature of conversations. The first place I called didnt say any niceties. They immediately went to prices so I hung up. Second place was more of the same and the third place asked me how I was doing and if I wanted to share anything about him. So I went with them. My dad didn’t leave a will so I had to pull the trigger on weather to cremate or bury. I went with the former and was sick for months thinking I made the wrong choice but one day a few months ago my mom found a random letter he wrote, tossed behind his living room chair, where he noted cremation was a better option bc of the $ and finally that guilt left me.

Did you know that when you list you’re an organ donor on your license, they have to call the family? And when they call, there is light elevator music playing in the background, and mere hours after your person dies, a woman with a nasally voice will calmly ask, “May we take his skin and eyes?” I felt like I was in a cronenberg movie. I remember being so shocked at the matter of factness of the question. Being disturbed but thankful neither my mom or sister were doing this part. I remember saying “why would you want that, do you know how he died? How are those parts even usable” and she paused . And “hmm’d” and as she began to speak I said “no we won’t be donating”.

Anyways. I’m trying to be present while I’m here in Ireland for the holidays. I want to cry but I can’t. This is the last time Christmas will feel like Christmas. I’ve never much liked the holiday. But after my dad died I’ve hated thanksgiving and Christmas even more. Being with my grandma here in Ireland makes it feel like that “magic” is still there a little. But I know it will be completely gone by this time next year and I hate that.

I also worry bout my mom and how she’s taking it. She lost her dad in 2023, her husband in 2024 and now her mom’s dying. That’s how it goes I guess. I stayed in tonight but she went out to the pubs with her friends and came home absolutely trashed. She made it up the stairs before I heard her start violently vomiting. It’s always strange when you switch places with your folks. I took off her clothes and got her changed into Pjs. Brought her water and crackers. She laid with her head in my lap as I stared at the wall. Being around this kind of stuff always makes me wonder if I’ll regret not having kids. Like the fact that when I’m her age, and my grandmas age, I’ll effectively be alone. Like yes there are friends etc but I won’t have children or grand children. Just makes me feel weird.

Anyways now it’s 6 in the morning and I’m going on a run in the 22 degree morning air. Bye bye.

[gentil-minou]

The teen wangxian version of lwj playing inquiry after wwx's death would be lwj texting the number wwx used to use before he deactivated everything. He does this every couple months, with a Hi or How are you or I miss you.

The stranger who uses that number now doesn't want to break the poor boys heart and tell him so they just ignore it.

Wwx isn't dead btw he dropped out of his ivy league after some really bad mental health to live a nomadic lifestyle out of his old beat up van Chenqing, but during that time he'd purposely pushed everyone away

Eventually after 13 months when wwx decides he's ready to go back online and come out of hiding he manages to get his old number back!

Except he keeps getting these messages for a number he doesn't know and he thinks 'wow I wonder what it's like to be loved by someone like this'

(There was a time where he used to know that number by heart

There was a time when a text from that number was the first thing he'd see in the morning and the last message he'd send that night

There was a time when he never would have thought he could forget that number…)

5 months after he's gotten his number back and moved in with the Wens, slowly becoming himself again, the mystery number starts leaving voicemails

They don't say anything, just some faint breathing on the line, like wind whistling by. Soothing, in a way wwx can't figure out why

WQ says he should delete them and block the number. WN says he should politely message the person and let them know they have the wrong number.

Wwx does neither.

His inbox slowly fills with them, and on his worst nights when he feels like hes going to lose it again, when he feels like hes back on that ledge looking over calculating the force from the impact, he'll listen those breaths as he slowly falls asleep

Years pass and the world goes on.

Wwx gets back in touch with his siblings. Their meetings are tense and won't ever be the same as it was…before. But for now, it's enough.

He's working nights at a bar and going to art school during the day. Therapy every week.

It's strange how much he likes school now that he gets to learn the things that interest him. There's a lot he misses from his old life, and a lot he doesn't.

He keeps every message and voice-mail he gets, but he never replies. He can't explain why.

On the side, he helps out the Wens with recovering from their own tragedy.

Years ago there'd been an accident where they'd lost their cousins. At the time, they'd thought that included their nephew. That they'd lost him too.

When Wen Qing finally gets a hold of the report, they learn they didn't.

It's takes some not so legal finagling, but what else is wwx going to use his coding skills for?

The Wens learn their cousins son was injured but alive. That he'd been adopted while he was still recovering in the hospital.

The number the hospital has on file is eerily familiar.

There's no time to think any more about it. The Wens are in hyperdrive, trying to figure out how to contact this person. Hoping they might see their nephew, finally.

WQ says she was able to call the number and talk to the adoptive father about meeting up.

Wwx goes to bed feeling happy and good and like he can still do some things right. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He wakes up at 5am the next morning to a text, and he realizes why that number was so familiar.

The text, from a-yuan's adoptive dad, what are the chances, reads:

"I have always lived my life to be true and do what is right, but I find myself afraid. What if I have done something terrible? What would you say?"

His heart beating a hole in his chest, wwx finally texts back.

(threadfic here)

[thatwritingho]

42 and 43 with Olive for the ask game! And forgive me, I did not have the brainpower to read through the latest MM chapter, but I'm hoping to get to it tomorrow! ^_^

42. Let them vent for a second, without the fear of being judged. What would they like to say?

Sad incoming!

"I'm just so, so tired of being angry. Of having this gaping, carnivorous maw in the center of my chest. I've tried so hard to satiate it - with the love of my father, of my siblings; with the love of friends, of lovers... and with hundreds of dead bodies, when that didn't work. But it didn't help. No matter how much blood it drank, it was never enough. This ravenous pit dug into my chest by my parent's murderers, widened by awful foster families, left eternally famished by the cruelty of my father has never been filled, has never been satisfied, has never been whole.

So I'm left empty, wanting, longing, and angry. Furious. Enraged. How could I not be? After all, do starving creatures not lash their teeth at the first sign of life? This burning flame of anger at the bottom of the pit consumes anything I attempt to fill it with.

I try and try and try, with alcohol, and painkillers, and books, and collecting, and new hobbies, and meditation, and months by the sea, moving cities, leaving my toxic relationship, starting therapy, starting medication, volunteering, working myself into burnout saving lives as a paramedic and in the ER to atone for my death toll, and... for what? All of these things, I've fed it, and... it's made no difference.

I'm trying so hard. I'm trying so, so, so hard! So... why does nothing help?

I'm good at everything.

Why am I so bad at this?"

43. And what would you say to comfort them?

I love you, and I'm sorry. You're not bad at this. No one is good at this. I'm so, so proud of you and how far you've come. Trauma is a black hole, and it's doing what it does best - sucking the life out of you. But, it's okay. It's going to be okay. I promise, I'm going to make it better. You're not going to feel alone anymore.

[kiisuuumii]

some thoughts on (my) self concept

its not a secret that ive lately felt not in control of my emotions. its not even a secret to those who've followed me since my days on my old blog, that im very vocal about whatever it is that im struggling with, to the point of vague oversharing.

being back on tumblr, having an outlet where people will see, and choose to interact however they see fit, has maybe exacerbated it a little, but ive always felt at the mercy of my emotions.

the highs are high, and the lows are low, as they say.

ive sought out professional treatment, both therapy and psychiatric means, for it, because id always thought that it was an issue of discipline, or lack of—something that, so long as i caught myself and worked on it, it would eventually not be a problem anymore. and while to a certain extent that could be true, i think in my case, thats just how i am:

i am easily excitable, i am easily saddened. and i love easily. and i grieve easily. and i stay that way, easily.

for so long, i have berated myself, disparaged myself, torn myself apart, for the idea that i always, and have continued to, let myself be so easily swept into my emotions. ive only ever wanted to distance myself from this part of me, having come to believe that all ive been is a burden on the people i love, and who love and have loved me, because of it.

i think in doing so, ive been trying to live as a "me" that i thought really was me. but i was living rather as someone incomplete. i'd abandoned—and i've always abandoned—a part of me that wanted nothing more to be held. not just witnessed, not just seen, not just reassured that i was too much or not enough. just, held.

ive admittedly not made the best decisions in the past in my subconcious effort to find someone who would be more than willing—glad even—to hold this part of me. and i think my constant fighting with myself because of it had only made me seek to fill a hole in me from, well, a lack of understanding from a lot of different places while growing up.

thats all to say that i hurt a lot of people in the name of trying to believe that i wasnt too much. if someone else could love me as i am, then surely i could too.

and thats not too far off from the way i think now, but what's changed now is that, yes, i am a lot. maybe even too much. but having come to terms with that, seeing a little bit of how beautiful feeling too much can be, i think i can at least stop beating myself up for the things ive done. i think its enough.

i think, actually, my immense capacity to feel is what makes me, me.

[extasiswings]

So I always felt like it would be a bit of a long shot to have Eddie freak out on a call over Buck. I always wanted it to happen because of course hello, but because of who he is, I felt like he wouldn’t be the type to and I resigned myself to that (and also read a lot of fic where he did to fill that hole in my heart lol). So actually seeing him scream out Buck’s name is short circuiting me in the best way! And it’s something a lot of us have wanted BECAUSE he’s always the stoic one and it’s unhinged. how are any of us going to be ok by next Monday 😂

I was so 👀👀👀👀 over the idea that we might get Eddie actually cracking on a call over Buck precisely because he has been in therapy and has done so much work to get all unrepressed and in touch with his feelings and now that we’re getting exactly that for that reason I’m simultaneously “why am I gasping I already knew that” and “OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING EVERYONE STAY CALM” with a side of “I didn’t expect this, idk what to do now” and “I’m so used to giving…” anyway all I can say is that the answer to your question is we are NOT going to be okay but you are welcome to join me in running away to howl at the moon in the woods

[maybebecomingms]

take time to contemplate who you are and where you want to go

January 15th, 2024

Last week I was having a really, REALLY bad night. I holed up in my partner's room in the dark, curled up on his bed in the fetal position, popped in some earbuds, and played Don't You Fake It by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

This album is my go-to when I feel like a brooding teenager. It came out in 2006, so I guess it counts - I was 19 - even if it was after high school. I reserve it for the very lowest depths of despair.

I wasn't even listening to it in 2006, though. My earliest memories of Red Jumpsuit Apparatus-fueled angst are from 2015 when I was on a horrible vacation with my ex's family in the wilderness of Ontario. I'm not fit for sitting in a boat fishing and drinking beer for 12 hours at a time without sunscreen, so everyone gave up on me fairly quickly and just left me behind each day. I took to trail running with Don't You Fake It in my ears to pass the time.

"Waiting" might be my favorite track, because it's so relatable.

Void I can't fill The doctor tells me to relax and stand still Prescribes me a new pill to quell my anger Wish I could make her pull herself up off the floor

I spent so many years feeling both like the person who needed pills to quell my anger AND the person who needed to get up off the floor. Just stuck.

It came on a streaming playlist a few years later one cold, dark morning while I drove my ex and myself to work. We carpooled to work for over 9 years, but I was almost never the one driving. He'd fallen asleep, which he always did as a passenger. Aside from long road trips, I've always hated that so much, too. It feels so lonely and disrespectful.

Waiting for this life to change seems like it's taking me forever

I turned it up and sang along, and it felt like a prayer I was afraid to say out loud or even think to myself.

Before that bad night last week, I'd had a pretty good therapy session where I was tasked with writing about what I wish I'd known back then, or what I would want younger women to know based on what I've been through.

And that's easy.

We are NOT meant for a life where we give and give and give endlessly to someone who does nothing but take from us. Losing yourself for someone else's benefit is never the answer.

Do NOT seethe with hidden rage. Do NOT get stuck on the floor.

Get up and DEMAND MORE. Take up space. Allow yourself to be messy and inconvenient and make mistakes. BECAUSE YOU FUCKING DESERVE ALL OF THAT AND MORE!

Stop giving all of yourself to someone and settling for crumbs in return, and please don't ever do it again.

[leaveherwildliketheflowers]

Having a 4 month old at home with no child care and working my full time job is nearly killing me. I love her so much but I can't wait until she is in daycare. I have very, very little time to myself at the moment and it's really starting to wear on me.

I was in the office today. Shout out to my company for having lactation rooms. I know that's a pretty low bar, but given the majority of employees are white males (and lots are traditional boomers) I'm honestly surprised that the accommodation is there. I had a good laugh though when I found a 12 pound weight in the room. Someone must have been pumping while pumping 😂

Therapy is very superficial at the moment. I'm too busy to tune into my emotions and T and I are only meeting every few weeks because of busy schedules. The big Things that have surfaced I squash and don't bring up because I just don't have time for that shit right now.

Hubs and I have started talking about timing for baby #2 [which is laughable because we all know I can't control that timing]. I'm ready for a baby, just not a pregnancy. If I could magically poof a baby into my house I would in a heartbeat. I can't shake the feeling that we are missing something. That something is absolutely the second baby that we would have had with the twins. Nothing I do fills that hole and it nags at me daily. Nothing replaces my twins, but M at least fills the hole of a daughter. Idk. The whole thing is eating at me and no decision feels "right" per say. Right now I plan to get this IUD out at the end of the summer and go from there.

Last weekend was our first time spending a few nights away from the baby for an out of state wedding. M did great with my inlaws and Hubs and I had a blast. I handled the whole thing way better than I thought I would. Huge personal victory. I really have grown a lot this last year.

Body image is shit. My leg is bugging me again and I haven't been working out much. Diet is also shit but I am eating fairly consistently. As soon as my life isn't one massive dumpster fire I have to get this in order.

We leave on Friday for a family wedding out of state immediately followed by a week in Chicago. I'm so excited but there is a lot to do this week and it will be a monster to tackle.

All in all it turns out I'm a pretty fucking good mom. I'm really proud of how much I have grown to be the best version of myself for my daughter. She brings so much joy to my life.

[poupeesdecirque]

Status Update & Crafts Backlog

So here we are with a little blog/life update, not too deep but some things I wanted to put down before I start with the first crafts this year (sorry for the blurry photos though it's... dark here).

The photo above pretty much summs up my mental backlog with projects due the overwhelming happenings in the last few months. As you all know I almost lost my brother around end of October after some super intense conventions and stress at work I ... only did crafts to numb my brain and the whole time is like a black hole for me. It took quite a toll on me and the fact I lost two family members did the rest.

I do photobooks for my dolls since 2015, 2 a year for the Weekly Photos & other nice photos I take and I do a 'portfolio'/feature one for the dolls in which each doll gets a page in order of arrival. So the two doll photobooks here are the 2nd part of 2024 which was due end of December anyways (that's the newest one I got printed).

It includes all photos from July till December. The... portfolio on other hans is one of the books I pushed back by a lot. I already started that one in 2022 and kept pushing it back because a lot of dolls in there weren't finished, something I worked on intensely last year, I finally was able to print it.

But other than that I had THREE other books that were waiting to be completed and it's partially because I put of getting them printed like the one from my trip to the sea. You maybe noticed I just posted the last doll photoset yesterday and yeah...

I have to say that I kept pushing that one back really... saddens me. As it was the last vacation with my great cousin who passed away in end of November and as I got it printed in end of December I never was able to show her the photos. Büsum was her most favorite place ever and we met up and it was the last time I saw her. The trip was in September, but there was so much going on already I thought "a well wait". And ... sigh, it doesn't help to whine about that now.

But it points down a thing I did a lot, i did too much. And I still have photos from last summer not posted because I decided to make more and new and it got out of hand. I am working on that backlog, tomorrow should be the last cosplay photoset from summer then it's the photos from September only left. (Only I say it's like 20+ sets because we took a ton of amazing photos and I like to spread them).

Then we have these two books which showcase the other decisions I made this year.

The one on the left is for concerts, trips and smaller vacations. I wanted to print that one in December after my last concert which was supposed to be the peak of the year and a city trip.

Both never happened I cancelled both. We did visit some smaller christmas markets and you know normally I like to share some impressions as I indeed took photos but christmas made everything worse I just want to forget the whole month.

The one on the right is the 3rd (wow) convention/trip photobook ft friends this year and now it's the first one with only phone photos x_X because aside the Anime Festival and the Polaris I wanted to include my winter vacation ... which I cancelled as well.

End of December was a super dark place for me, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to attend any conventions again, if I want to craft ever again.

But I am slowly crawling back, since new year's eve my mind isn't as dark anymore and ... I started therapy this week, start taking medication today.

I finally started to make plans for the future again and survived the first 5 day week at work since end of October (I went back to work in December but it was 8 days to work left). I finally got my tattoo from summer corrected and feel like I am getting things in order again.

I am not yet sure if I am motivated to work on cosplay soon again for now it's taking baby steps with my newest Allen doll (the wig is first), I know I tend to overload myself as I can work quick and I am trying not to.

Anyways my queue is filled to the brim, with a lot of things I made during december, we have 3 older doll photosets still to be posted (September, October and then mid December) but then we will finally enter 2025. For the weekly photo those are all freshly taken thanks to snow we got and it inspired me a lot.

Thanks for reading and for your interest, as always this is all over the place but I thought an update would be good.

[riastarthe]

ok this "time to cut off your conservative family members" didnt know you guys were still hanging out. i don't have a family to cut off because i already did that. it sucks it's painful it's lonely it puts you into an entirely different situation where you might feel like a total fucking alien and you will be reliant on the kindness of strangers more often than you'd like, but at least you won't be constantly psychically damaged by people who are supposed to love you and choose not to. or people who want your friends dead. you wouldn't take that from anyone else and a biological bond can't mean more to you than your own dignity. even war criminals love their children. love is not a reason to stay.

sometimes i marvel at how long ago i came out and how fucking lonely it's always been. always. growing up rural, there wasn't a community, much less one that accepted or acknowledged trans people. i never learned how to be in one and was never brought into one... all queer community has been incidental, mainly through art. i'm going to start trying now, but it makes me so shitscared lol.

i dont really waver in my beliefs but if one thing can shake my foundation, it's being left behind for those beliefs. i am scarcely different from anyone i know/have known and yet to them the cracks seem huge. that's so disappointing, and the loneliness makes me feel like such a freak man. going into the future alone is what rocks me. it is so bleak. the past 4 years fucked me up so bad, i really struggle to think i'll recover despite all the work i've done/am doing. i've done things other people haven't in order to try and get better For Them as much as myself. therapy, medication, making better and more honest art to try and communicate myself more effectively, trying to join more digital communities like the co-op etc., stating my boundaries with people, being more confident about what i think and feel... and all of those things seemingly has had a NEGATIVE impact. if i were to frame it as... living more honestly and losing people who are unwilling to respect that or losing people who maybe i never clicked with in the first place, well, that void hasnt been filled. so it feels awful. it feels like i need to be someone else entirely. i don't want to live this life alone. i long for people all the time. it makes my stomach hurt. it keeps me awake. it is the singular most painful thing of all time, that emptiness. i feel totally broken. i miss so many people. i don't know how to live like this and i know I don't want to. i wish i could have help. i wish that kind of help existed. i dont know how to express how badly i need it, in a way that i do truly believe is different from the shitty (and incorrect) idea of learned helplessness— the way my mind... feels, the cloth over it, the anxiety is something very different compared to any other time in my life, compared to any other fear or sadness. it is like, a real fog, a wall, a deafening, deadening, fatiguing weight, like i go limp from it. i need help. i want help.

i dont think im as repugnant and repulsive as i feel, or how i'm seen. i don't. i've been a good friend in the past. i want to be one again. it is such a bad ache. i wish i had the words for it. i say so much but nothing really describes it... it's just a black hole. I've worked really hard to overcome it but I've worked really hard by myself. i need someone willing to let me try.

[angelbluediary]

Facing a lot of inner resistance to every aspect of my life again. I wonder when I’ll finally be satisfied with where I am and what my daily life consists of.

The discomfort of living here with my family ebbs and flows. It’s never gone, but it’s easier sometimes, just not now. It’s getting more difficult again. More jagged, more needling.

I can’t stop fantasizing about finding work at the library and leaving the hotel soon. I hate working front desk. I hate standing on my feet for 8 hours straight, performing for 8 hours straight, having nothing to do during that time when I’m not accommodating guests except doodle and stare blankly into space. My writing is limited; if I write the things I’m really thinking about or interested in, I feel paranoid because people and my superiors are constantly buzzing all around me, will all of a sudden materialize over my writings while I’m grabbing the phone. But I can’t let my imagination go and try to lean into fiction or anything overly creative, since I don’t have the space and am yanked back to reality every few seconds when someone passes through or comes to me for help. It’s always busy. I’m always On. And people make me want to shrivel up and bury myself in a little hole.

I’m given no time to eat and I am on red alert every time I have to run to the bathroom or help a guest upstairs because there’s almost always someone waiting impatiently for me when I get back.

It’s valuable experience and I’m still new. And I’m grateful for it even if I don’t sound like it right now. It’s just really tough on me. And I’m jealous—I met up with Chloe recently for the first time in years, and she’s making way more than I am as a copyeditor. She works from home and cleans up the wording of documents that comes her way, my actual dream job, what I went to school for. !!!

I just need to suck it up for the time being, focus on saving money and looking forward to when I can move out! For the time being, this job is really helping me conquer my social anxiety and launching me back out into the world. I’m meeting a lot of people and getting exposure therapy which is good for me, albeit uncomfortable after all those years of isolation and stagnancy.

I’ll be at work in about an hour. I wish I could spend my “downtime” looking at other jobs and formulating a real game plan but, again, have to be so careful with anything I write and what is left open for others to see (without any warning of suddenly appearing).

Still need to write up my very confusing feelings about Z Weekend, though it’s not really that I’m confused—more like… intrigued and disappointed by the things I learned about myself during those previous few days.

Not going to save up as much as I’d planned because I totally didn’t consider Christmas. Or DoorDash so I can eat at/around work hours. Or the kink convention. But again, grateful that I have the money to actually participate in these things.

What I’d give to be a student again and have so little responsibilities. No debts beyond student loans that still don’t feel real, no press of time encouraging me to settle down soon. Having community and workshops and dressing cute for classes and filling my head with knowledge… there are so many things I wish I could redo, and I fear that’s the Human Condition, that we’ll always be looking backwards where nothing can be changed.

[broodyjoey]

tw // sui ideation

This house just makes me want to fucking end myself, but my therapist said that it was good when I was using my little mantra to divert the sui feelings and urges into tangible sadness instead of letting it pent up inside my mind. She said it was alright to cry but I can't even cry now, I'm constipated emotionally again...All the effort we put into making me much better at handling my emotions and defending against abuse has gone down the damn toilet during these past 2 years I haven't seen her. I feel like I can never get out of this hell hole anymore.

She used to make me feel like I was walking towards a good path, filled with progress but now that the insurance lapsed. Now that I'm no longer in therapy, I'm constantly depressed. I can't seem to get out of the house when it matters the most. Or take care of my daily personal hygiene, or eat properly. I have no appetite on most days and I can't stay afloat of my chores, I feel like I'm constantly drowning...

I need to find the time now, to crawl out of the house on time to the national clinics, with these cursed ass opening hours that nobody can make time for...I don't know how I used to be able to make it there after school, even tho my school is in a whole other district...Plus the waiting times in my town's clinic are abysmal - a whole fucking 3~5 hours mfr

That's fucking crazy, I don't even know what is the lunch hours for these cursed ass national clinics with fuck knows when opening hours...Somehow I always arrive during their break hours or when they're closing. Idk how I keep doing that but I followed the Gmap timings for it...they still kick me out early depending on the busyness of the day. I've had enough of that!! Scam opening hours, fake news...How tf do they expect people to get the necessary national clinic documents if those stupid ass national clinics won't even let me see a doctor... T.T

I need to go to the clinic soon; it'll be a whole 3 months wait for the recommendation letter to go thru and the waiting list for psych is crazy (pun not intended) long. I'm surprised anybody survives this wait. No wonder why my work friend from one of my previous jobs entered the National Mental Institute, and so did my ex, Isaac. (No real names are used online heheh :) ) My ex was having sui ideation but got thrown into the grippy sock land because he called the wrong number (I called the mental health hotline, and he called the ambulance...) Our country has the most terrible ways of handling mental health problems. You have to be raised a certain type of vigilant, to be cautious enough to skip through all these process-traps that will throw you unwillingly into the grippy sock land. I'm both vigilant and paranoid enough from my abusive childhood that I'm good at sussing out what to do to get me on the safest path to my goals. I won't say that every mentally ill person has the exact same balance of cautiousness and being able to mask so well, So well that officials gave me the green light to go for outpatient care.

Somehow I always arrive during their break hours or when they're closing; the doctor that I got was just pure luck tho. That I can't deny, but I am very good at making people think I'm fine enough to function. I don't tell my family anything vulnerable, people like me with this type of upbringing will die if someone gets a hold of my secrets. No matter how benign people with healthy childhoods think it is. I've almost been attacked by my mother for speaking well of a guy classmate and my father has accused me of dating my guy friend who is gay...wtf.

I got ratted out by my distant aunt and had to pull a gaslighting manoeuvre that I learnt from my parents, holy shit I've never hidden my meds in such an awkward position, in such a secluded place that sometimes I forget that it's there. I've also run a burn campaign against my distant aunt, just to cover up that reveal. Sorry not sorry, if you put my wellbeing in danger, you're done. Dead to me. I warned her against informing my parents but she didn't listen. I don't want someone to get away with such actions against me. I don't need such people attacking my well-being in my life, especially not when I'm from an Asian country and will have to live with my parents even when I'm married.

That shit will have me killed, not even my distant aunt, no matter that she's also mentally ill, NOBODY should treat my safety as a damn joke.

[yahsheartcry]

What I would love for you all to get from my short testimony...

When people first look at me, they have no idea that I have been through so much, or that I am as old as I am. I am 41, but look like I am in my mid-20's. I never smoked anything growing up. Never had a desire to do anything like that. I had drank in college, but now, it hurts my stomach to do that. I've been through numerous things--physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, sexual trauma as a child and as an adult, domestic violence, narcissism, miscarriage, and houselessness. I lived in my car for almost 9 months. Through all of this, I can still say that Yah is still good, and is still good to me. He never left my side. He protected me. He provided for me. He loved and adored me, even when I left Him for awhile. He still wanted and desired me. He was jealous for me. It was when He called me back to Him, that I decided to go all in, and live my life for Him no matter what.

Some may say, "Well, what did you have to do to get to this point?" My answer...A LOT! I really did. I had to do a lot of work.

I scheduled a routine where I would pray in the morning and in the evening outside. I worshipped Him during this time too.

I would read my Bible every day.

I would keep a prayer journal.

I would keep a gratefulness journal.

I would keep a positive affirmations journal about who Yah says I am.

I went to therapy to heal myself from all the past hurt and traumas.

I was even on medications for a little while to get my body back on track.

I changed how I ate, and ate more healthy and how the Holy Spirit wanted me to eat.

I changed what I wore, and wore things that were not form fitting and low-cut, or too short. I wore modest clothing.

I attended church every week.

I started speaking more positively over myself.

I watched what I would watch on TV and at the movies.

I was careful what I listened to on the radio, on TV, or online.

I had to let some friendships go that weren't the ones that Yah wanted for me.

I had to learn how to communicate.

I had to learn how to forgive. No matter what.

I had to learn to see people the way that Yah sees them.

I had to learn to minimalize and get rid of things that were taking up too much space in my head, heart, house, and life.

I had to learn that my money really wasn't my money, and everything belongs to Yah. I can at least tithe.

I had to learn to love myself. Then other people.

You see...I had to do quite a bit to heal. I am not even done yet. I have been delivered from spirits and habits and all the things that I had no idea I was having issues with at all. I had to learn spiritual warfare, to fight the Enemy. I had to learn to be a Kingdom Woman, and always do everything with Excellence. Most importantly, and this is where I am right now, is learning to love people...even when they betray you and hurt you. This lesson has just started, but already, I can tell a difference. When you learn to love people, you learn to love Yah even more. He created all of us. We are all created in His image. Today, just today, I have felt the Holy Spirit so thick. It was amazing!

If I could help anyone today by giving them one tip, it would be this...No matter how far you may think you have fallen, or how amazing you may think you are, that hole that you are trying to fill with drinking, with sex, with shopping, with porn, with everything under the sun...means NOTHING!!!! None of these things can fill that space in your life. It may seem like it, for a little while, but they can't do it. Yeshua (Jesus Christ) is literally the ONLY ONE who can! You won't be fully happy until you let Him into your heart and your life!

Here is a prayer to help you do that:

Dear Heavenly Father in Yeshua's name,

Here I am. I come before you right now, with a repentant heart. I know that I have sinned. I know that I made mistakes and Yeshua didn't have to die for my sins on that cross, but He did. He took my punishment, because that should have been me. I believe that Yeshua is the Son of G-d, and I accept Him into my heart, my mind, my soul, my spirit, and my body right now. Take over. Renew me. Restore me. Transform me. Use me as your vessel. I love you, Yeshua. I thank you at the chance to have a transformed life with You. Thank you for making me more like You more and more each and everyday. Take my heart. Take my life.

In Yeshua's name I pray,

Amen.

***If you said this prayer, and meant every word, send me a message. I would love to welcome you into Yah's family, and guide you on what to do next. ***

I love you all!

Until Friday!

~Hadassah Grace

[proveimalive]

Whoops! I'm ruining my own life

First time using this account in... 8 years? Maybe more, I don't know. So here's where we're at- I graduated university two years ago. Ended up working a job at a hotel that was a fucking nightmare. Ended up in the hospital due to substance abuse. Have since gotten a handle on said abuse. Am now in therapy, take ADHD meds. Have problems sleeping.

Got a job at the THeatre Royal. Been working there (and at the Dome) for 1.5 years now. Time flies. Made new friends, reignited my love for performance.

Got accepted to the London Film academy for an MA in screenwriting. Thought I could use that creative writing degree for something more substancial. It's £16,000. Can't afford it with what I'm earning.

Desperate to move out of my house. Can't spend anothert year stuck here, in this house, at this job, in the city. Need a fresh start. Need to earn more for that fresh start. Need to make a decision on what MA I'm going to do.

I miss studying, but I don't want to stay in Brighton. I want to be away and out, in London, in the centre of it all. Don't care if it's a shit hole. Just want somewhere to stay while I figure my life out.

Have a list of things I want to try, and limited time to try it. Thinking and thinking and thinking about what I want to do with my life is getting me nowhere. It's been revealed to me that I am not the sort of person who knows my own mind as well as I thought. I think I want something, and then I try it and the reality is completely different. I know that doing an MA is going to be much more work than I think. And what I learned from my degree- unless I really, really care about something, I have no hope in hell of achieving it. I need to want this or it won't work.

On a comedy kick at the moment, so want to try out some improv. Maybe some comedy writing. Think that could be fun and is something I like.

Want to try acting again. Doing an actual production. Think that could be fun.

I'm less anxious now, much healthier. I'm in a better place to do these things.

Screenwriting doesn't excite me that much. It sounds interesting, and cool, if it was a module I'd enjoy it. I think about uni and the things that stuck with me are these- writing a TV show with friends, and our comedy module. Both were more fun then I ever would have thought. I loved it, and it made me happy. Shame pandemic fucked us all over. Oh well.

Maybe look into comedy writing MAs, or just comedy writing courses.

I have enough to justify the expense. I'm tired of sitting here doing nothing day after day. I live and breathe and eat and do research, think, work, sleep. But I want to create. I want to throw myself into it and produce something. I think for years I thought I needed to fill a void. And I do. But external things don't work as well as creating something myself does.

Comedy, comedy, comedy. Wiritng. Acting. Producing. Directing. Productions. Running TV shows? I don't know.

Fuck. I wish I could make up my mind. I wish the answer could come to me in a huge rush and I'd go, "bingo. That. That's what I want to do with my life".

And of course, there's always the dream of living and working on a boat for a year. Which is becoming increasingly appealing.

All the "dreams" I have are just that- dreams. Because the reality is never what you think it'll be. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it's just a waste of time. Sometimes it's dissapointing. Sometimes it IS what you thought it would be, but then are hit with the reality that it's not making you as happy as you hoped.

Fuck me. I feel like I'm running out of time. I'm only 23, but it feels like the clock is ticking somehow. Like if I don't make a choice in the next few months, that's it. I'm stuck for another year, walking in circles, running on the spot.

I want to pick a destination and just drive full speed towards it. But instead I'm just parked on the side of the road, watching all the other cars go by, jealous of some. Staring at this map in my hands that's just a fain quiggle of lines and feeling confused and empty.

What's stopping me from setting off. I'm afraid that if I don't pick the "right" destination, I'll end up driving aimlessly from place to place, hating every single one. Even if I do enjoy my time there, if it's not "right", then I'm wasting my time. I'm wasting my life.

You might think well, how can you be? As long as you're enjoying it, then it's not wasted. That's what life is, right? Doing what makes you happiest day by day, and everything else is just a bonus.

The problem is that on a day to day basis, I'm not that happy. Life doesn't make me that happy. It makes me stressed and tired and bored and empty, and I've tried to fill that emptiness as best I can. Running from the feeling of existential dread that won't leave me be. Trying to fill the void with whatever distraction I can. To take away from the fact that I feel I am tethred to the earth by a fraying piece of rope, and I just want to come back down to land. But there's a part of me that just wants to let go and float away. Can't do that.

I feel like an astronaut fighting to keep in contact with planet earth. Sending through garbled messages and squinting through my helmet, trying to focus on what's happening down below. Like if I can stare hard enough, watch for long enough, it's almost like I'm there.

I know that I'm here. I just don't always feel like I am. I feel panicked, like any second something bad will happen. Any second it will all collapse and the tenuous balance or peace I've found will vanish. It's all very existential and over dramatic but I'm nothing if not both of those things.

So where to start? Do what I do best, I guess. figure it out on the fly.

I think doing a trial run at Mark and Chris's house would be good too. Get some experience living alone again. I think that might be a good test to see how I'm doing. If it goes poorly, I can always bring it up in therapy.

It's a sickness, a panic that seeps up from my stomach. Like the whole world has forgotten about me. Out, of sight, out of mind. Like I stop existing if I'm not being perceived. Maybe that's why I like the idea of being in a group so much. They have no choice. They're bound to me. I exist.

I exist.

Because I feel I have no worth unless I have worth to others. Is that the void I'm trying to fill? I can't be happy unless I'm kaing other people happy? Fuck me. that's a lonely, tiring life.

But I feel empty and vacant. Trying to be human as best I can.

I know all is not lost. I know these thoughts are obsessions born from an insecure childhood and that there is so much more out there. I just know I need to move. I'm a deer caught in the headlights, watching, waiting, and if I don't move I'm going to get hit. I'm a frog in a pan of water, and I'm going to drown or be boiled alive. I need to move. There's no other option.

The only thing I can control is which direction I jump. So really, does it matter? If nothing matters and it could all fall apart, who gives a shit. Who really cares. I have to jump or I'll die, so just pick something and GO. If it doesn't work out at least I moved.

Deep dramatic sigh. Breathe.

I can do this. It won't be easy but I can do it. Whatever I choose, it will be equal parts right and wrong. Some more boring or disastrous than others but each a chapter for this very long dull book. I just want to make sure there are enough highlights for a good memoir at the end, and I won't get that from doing what I'm doing now.

Got a grip on the alcoholism. Sorted the anxiety out. Got new friends. Lost a tonne of weight. Blood pressure and heart health is good. Got back in reading and writing.

Now I just need to do a but of actual living and I'll be on a roll.

So I should end this one here. Because that's enough typing and thinking for one day. You can only do what you can do. I just want to make sure that in the end, i do right by me. Little me deserves that at least.

Time to go take a shower, watch taskmaster, reply to my 7 friends and go for a speed walk in the dark listening to a spooky podcast. Can't beat the high life.

28/01/2024

[againstme]

the sun is setting on the first of the year, i feel like shit. none of the dinners that they have are anything i can eat cause there was only two of the one i liked.

they’re gonna yell throughout the house for dinner. i’m just gonna stay in bed. and take my meds at 7.

then, i guess it’s just regular programming tomorrow.

holidays suck. they suck here, so much. but i don’t even yearn to be around other people that aren’t here. too scared to be around my family, too anxious or too much to be around my friends. i guess i just want to be alone.

i’m stuck here, until i have an idea of a place to go. i have nowhere to return to. i have no idea of where to go, what to do, who to be. who i want to be.

where does one go when they don’t have any place to call home? part of me just wants to sink into the earth. to look at someone across the street while a bus passes, disappearing into the night, never to be seen again.

i wish i could throw a dart at a map, see what sticks and just go there. i’ve been to so many places, trying to fit in, carving this square peg into a round one, barely fitting it in. not close, but quite. i still stick out like a sore thumb.

i want to find a place that fits. a box that’s made for me. something stable, and nice, where i’m not relying on people as much. some place where i can relax, and breathe, be myself, and be at peace.

i’ve never felt stable. it’s always been rocky. filled with ups and downs, waves crashing like i’m out at sea. i feel like, at this point, i’m neck deep in the water, reaching my arms out for help. a friend looks out at me from a boat, holding a life jacket in their hand, but never tossing it to me. we make eye contact as i start to drown, both knowing that i can’t swim.

i’ve felt my life flash before my eyes, forcing me to reflect. so much crying, whether from laughter, or from sadness. the nights i went to sleep, wishing i didn’t wake up. but i did. was it worth it? seeing another day? waking up with too much tylenol in my stomach and ringing in my ears? wishing that it was done, that it was over, that i could finally stop being a burden? to stop having people waste their energy focusing on me, so they can go on with their lives?

some days, i wish that it worked. that the tylenol burned a hole in my stomach, that the cuts weren’t too shallow, that the makeshift rope made out of my bedsheets could actually hold my weight. that i never called anybody.

being here, in treatment, felt okay at first. but now, i feel like leaving. i don’t like my psychiatrist, i don’t like my therapist, my trauma therapy is rough. i don’t feel like what i went through was bad enough, whatever that means. that i’m taking up a bed that someone else could be in.

i’m skipping lunch, save for chips and coffee, and shaking throughout most days. getting bad sleep, being woken up at 6, skipping breakfast most days, filling up on coffee, and the cycle repeats.

the cycle always repeats. and i have nowhere to go.

[whatdoyouneedsugar]

I did have a good day! I hope you had a good day, too!!

I went to therapy and my therapist said that I seem to be doing better today compared to our last appointment (2 weeks ago) :3

Hehe nope! I would never hide how needy I am for mommy. Especially if she wants to make me cry. I really love that feeling and I can hardly ever make myself experience it. It feels kind of therapeutic, in a way :o

Aaaaa yes please please please fuck me while I'm overstimulated, mommy 🥺 I'd love to feel your thick strap stretching me open while I cry and you praise me. Just the thought of it is making me all wet and needy again. Thank you so much, mommy <3

I would gladly let mommy eat my pussy! It looks different from other pussies because of the hormone injections, but I would love to be a good boy for you and let mommy eat my pussy. Please ruin me, mommy. I'll beg so pretty, if you want me to.

And afterwards, we could cuddle and watch movies and I'll give mommy all the love she deserves for being so good to me ^u^

- 🐸 (I almost forgot to tag this, oopsies)

So glad you're doing better, baby, I hope you like your therapist and they can help you.

And don't you worry, all pussies are different and any good mommy will love nothing better than to learn all the ways she can make her boy's pussy clench and get all messy got her. Even if yours is different from the hormone injections, it's still gonna be mommy's favorite hobby to watch it leak for her. And if the hormones change how sensitive you are and which spots make you feel good, mommy's gonna love to help you find out all the ways you can be ruined, one orgasm at a time... or the lack of many 😈

There's also your other hole, of course. If you liked mommy playing with your ass just imagine how full and wrecked you could be, sitting on mommy's strap, a plug filling your ass, while i kiss you and touch your pretty body. Think you could sit on my lap like that for a while? Not move your hips? Just warm my cock, let it fill you up? Mommy will stroke your hair and tell you how good you are to help you, she'll let you play with her boobs so you can have some distraction from being all stretched out like that.

What do you say, babylove? It's okay if you don't like your ass played with, we can do the same without the plug, you just tell mommy and she'll create the best scenarios to make her boy whine and moan her name.

And afterwards we can cuddle and you can suck on mommy's tits while you let her touch yourself and look at how pretty you are. Don't want you doing anything else, baby, just want you there looking pretty, mouth full of me, those eyes sleepy, almost closing, from how much mommy worked you up. After I come you can fall asleep with my fingers in your mouth, tasting how good you made mommy feel.

[foggyparadisecandy]

[Trauma dumping - scroll on by if you are looking for horny stuff]

I know, I know ... another one. I'm just purging it out as fast as I can. Catharsis in a public blog. Why not?

This one in particular is written for my ex-partner even though I know she won't read it. I just have to play pretend to feel remotely good about things.

Hey D - I want to start off and say that I love you, I care about you, and I forgive you for anything and everything. Please remember that you can always reach back out to me.

Yeah, what you did was pretty shitty tbh. But ... it's ok. I mean ... yeah ... do better. Good people do shitty things on occasion and IDK.

Maybe I'm way off base but everything points to a horrible trauma response. I could be wrong. I don't think so though.

Either way, who gives a shit at this point. I forgive you and the point of this letter is to ask that you don't use your treatment of me or us to beat yourself up.

It hurt. It still hurts. It probably will hurt for awhile but I'm going to come back stronger than I was before so, in the end, it will be a net positive for me. Except for losing you. That ... really ... is awful tbh.

I've told you how much you brightened my life in other letters so I'm moving past that one here. Let's talk about me for a moment and where I'm at and where I'm heading so you can feel like "hey ... Foggy is going to be ok ... I didn't permanently harm him and it seems like he's actually doing well."

And let's really quiet that subconscious that makes you want to feel bad - at least on this particular issue. It's all going to be better than fine for me in the end. I know that and you should feel ok about me.

I've made a lot of new friends who have been very kind and accommodating to my pain. You know I'm a curious dude and it's been very interesting to hear so many stories from other people. Love it.

I've reconnected with some old friends - online and in RL. I've got a pretty full social calendar these days which is a first in ... a loooong time. Pretty ironic considering how much I was always telling you to build connections and my own were thin.

I've started working out. It's only been 7 weeks and I'm doing pretty freaking good tbh. I started doing pushups and planks every time I thought of you but ... that got exhausting fast ... you are always on my mind lol. So I cut back to 30 minutes per day.

I've had it out with my wife about everything. Well ... not exactly everything but most things. I'm not sure where that goes but I know I don't want to go back to a boring status quo situation. You opened my eyes to a new way to exist and I want more, not less. It'll be ok either way - I know that for sure.

I've lost 8 pounds in 7 weeks. This one isn't really a blessing lol. I couldn't eat or hold food down for the first five weeks. Only really started eating again recently. But it is what it is. I wasn't heavy at all but I'm happier thinner so ... a win?

I've ... mostly ... started to be able to sleep through the nights again. For the longest time, the most I could sleep was 3 or 4 hours then wake and could not drift back off. I still ... am struggling ... a bit. Woke up the other morning at 4 am crying. That wasn't fun. But it's rare lately and I'm guessing will be gone soon enough. Not sure if this is a win or if it's me just feeling sorry for myself. I'm guessing the latter but I'm leaving it in here because it *is* better than it was early on so it's progress.

I've started therapy to figure out why I chase after helping others (mostly women) to fill the sad little hole in my soul. Actually ... I already know why. You know all the shit with my mom and ... yeah ... I'm working on it. Trying to get healthy for the first time since I was a ten year old kid. Kind of silly that it took you breaking up with me for me to figure this stuff out. It is really breaking me down to realize my life since ten has been so fucked up with trauma. Can you imagine not clearing your trauma away for that long? Can you imagine that? I hope not. Did you get that hint? I hope so.

I've refocused on work for the first time in a decade. I've set some huge fucking goals. I want to hit it big and I've given my team through the end of next year. I'm going to do it and then I'm going to fuck off from work and shift my priorities to something else - something more fulfilling. It's still to early but I want to take some of those self-improvement things we did together and do something with them for others. I'm using them on myself so I can see how they work and where they need to be fine-tuned. We'll see how it all goes.

I'm trying to figure out what makes me genuinely happy. All of my belief systems have been shattered tbh. I ... don't know yet if that's bad or good or just is what it is. I don't know anything atm about love or happiness or fulfillment or ... anything. I'm still more than a bit lost. You untethered me from everything I knew about myself. I'm not saying this is a bad thing ... I'm saying ... I don't know what comes next. Knowing me, it's going to be fucking great and better than it was. I've always been pretty good at solving problems and making great things happen for myself and those around me (as you know).

I'm doing my best to be kind to myself. I am not sure when the last time I was kind to myself was. I honestly can't remember when I've had a decent thing to say about myself. It's always been "do better" "be better" stuff. I'm working on it as fast as I can. Beating yourself up is an awful way to live. Not sure why I need your splitting on me to figure that out.

I have realized ... despite everything ... I am a good and decent and kind person. I lost sight of that for a hot minute there. I'm not perfect. Hah. Nope. But I do the best I can and I am quick to take steps to change up when I know I've fucked up. But yeah ... I'm good and decent and kind. I know those things now better than I ever have.

And ... you are good too. I know it deep down in my soul.

I see it in you. You are not your father. Far from it.

And you didn't permanently hurt me here. Lots of good will come from this. Believe it. Thank you for everything.

And I believe good things will happen for you. I have full faith in you.

I am no longer in a position to tell you what to do but ... please work on your trauma. For your own sake. And find a new path in life. I know you feel like your current job is your life but ... that job will bring you nothing but misery and sorrow and trauma and damage.

You deserve better. You know that. Deep down, you know everything we shared showed you a different path.

You deserve far better.

You might need to go through some pain to get on a new path but I know who you are. I know you are a fighter and know how to get shit done. You can and will do it. Start planning. Start doing.

And legit ... I'm still here and willing to boost you along in life.

I've always wanted one thing: to see you reach your full potential. It's amazing. The world is waiting to see it.

One final thing that I have discovered and honestly I feel really good about this one - even if you never reach out again:

I love you sincerely and wish nothing but the best.