#I have this paralysing fear that I'm annoying you

[simlicious]

Personal update about my anxiety

Time for another personal update! At the moment, I'm not really in a creative mood and my projects are all resting.

I am working on more stuff in my real life, including cleaning/decluttering my apartment and working through an anxiety app which will hopefully get me to start exposure (though I shudder at the thought alone). The funny thing is, the app is for social anxiety, and I do have some social anxiety, but I think I mainly have agoraphobia (but there is no medical app available for this at the moment, so I took the next best thing). The app said: "Let's make a gradual steps plan, you first choose a very easy step, then one that is a little harder and harder, and so on until the hardest step comes at the top." And for the easiest step, it actually suggested one of my hardest steps: going into a store, buying something, and interacting with the cashier. Checkouts give me such anxiety. I once had a full-blown panic attack because I couldn't remember the PIN number for my credit or debit card. And I very rarely get panic attacks. Luckily, my brother was present and he was able to pay for me while I almost hyperventilated and tears were streaming down my face. Generally, I start sweating and get shaky hands which does not help while handling cards and remembering pin numbers. I get tunnel vision and cannot focus on anything that is going on around me. Sometimes, blood rushes in my ears so I have a hard time picking up whether someone is saying anything. Then, all items need to be put into bags at lightning speed, and I always fear that I am not fast enough and that everyone else in line is annoyed and angry with me and this makes me even more nervous. Putting things away with shaky hands is tough! So I send my boyfriend shopping for me or buy online most of the time. If I absolutely must, I can go shopping with one of my loved ones because I feel a tiny bit calmer and know I have a safety net with me. They can also help me put stuff in my bags. But alone? That's nightmare fuel for me. Same thing with using public transportation, I just can't do it. I also have a very hard time sitting in waiting rooms at the doctor's office, I get so tense and do not know what to do with myself. Oh, and I also have severe anxiety when I need to make a phone call 😫 But all that is seriously impacting my life, as you can imagine. And I want to change something.

Since the app is not helpful with suggestions for my gradually harder steps to take, I have to come up with my own, and it is harder than I thought! All the things I think about are really hard for me, I cannot think of less hard steps to take 😣 Even just going outside without a destination/going out by myself is also anxiety-inducing for me. I feel like I am watched all the time, I get tense and my thoughts start racing or going in circles. This also happens while I am in a store to shop for something. I get paralysed sometimes with decision fatigue and if someone else comes into the same aisle, I have the urge to run away instantly. I get so distracted that I need to spend way more time in a store than usual and this is of course not making me calmer. I am just super exhausted after going shopping! I am proud that I leave the house twice a week now to go for a walk with my best friend though. We have just established a second day of the week this year, and we still do not go twice every week, but pretty often, which is great. And I love to walk in nature, it calms me (if there aren't too many other people around). 😊 I am also making progress with my borked sleep cycle. I am a night owl 🦉, but being awake the whole night clashes a lot with my family's plans. I have tried for months to shift it, but in the last one to two weeks, I actually made real progress and went to bed 2 to 3 hours earlier than normal, which is really huge for me! I found out that there are lots of free audiobooks on YouTube that authors upload themselves. So one hour before I want to sleep, I put one on, set a shutdown timer of 60 minutes so it will turn off after that time, and then go to bed and listen to it until I fall asleep. This has motivated me enough to actually go to bed earlier.

As a result, I get more daylight and I am more inclined to do housework, which I also struggle with in general, so this is really great! I am focusing more on that now. I also started playing Subnautica again, but I can only play for a few hours on end because it can get pretty intense. I kinda want to play Sims 4 again (weird, I know). My anxiety app wants me to think more positively, so instead of thinking that it is no use updating my mods because the minute I do, another patch drops anyway and I have to start all over, I should think more positively. I will probably drop the game after playing for a day anyway, so it does not need to stay updated for long! Maybe downloading and updating mods is more fun than actually playing anyway? 😆

[notoneopinion]

10 Ways I Soothe Anxiety

Hello. I have anxiety.

I have anxiety, but I have also managed to somehow keep a pretty good life for myself through it all. Getting out of bed when you have a paralysing fear of the world is not an easy task, but there are a few things I have found that make it that little bit easier, life that little bit smoother. And because we certainly don't gatekeep here, I thought I'd share the ten main ways I soothe anxiety. Basically, ten things I do to switch off and remove myself from my brain.

1. Turn your phone off.

An obvious one, but probably one of the most important. It's insane how clogged a person's brain will get when they spend their day glued to a phone screen. For me, it's not even just social media that sets me off, though that is a massive trigger for me and many other people; it's the phone in general. I could be playing Angry Birds for twenty-four hours and still finish the day feeling gross and anxious and guilty. The screen itself just makes me feel groggy, which in turn leaves me feeling anxious by the time I'm getting into bed that night. There are some days I will wake up, and just turn my phone off completely - usually days when I know I'm going to be at home all day, but still. That extended break from screen time is a life saver.

2. Fidget toys.

Okay, so I may also have autism.

But!!!! Fidget toys are miracle workers for all kinds of mental illnesses and uncomfortable feelings, so don't think you can't invest in some just because you're not on the spectrum. Fidget toys are literally made to soothe anxiety, so get yourself some!! I have one called a Tangle that I keep on me at all times, and I just mess with it in my pocket when I'm in a social situation and I don't know what to do with my hands, or I start feeling a little overwhelmed. It brings my fight or flight right down. I don't know the science behind it, but I honestly don't even care. Give me fidget toys, or give me death.

3. Model making, eg Legos, 3D puzzles.

Legos and 3D puzzles are another thing that has changed the game for me when it comes to anxiety. Like fidget toys, they are the perfect way to keep your hands busy, but they have the added bonus of keeping your mind busy, too. These are, of course, more of a relaxation technique, something you come home to after a stressful day rather than something to eliminate anxiety on the spot, but we'll take what we can get. These also keep you relaxed and distracted for hours, because there is hours worth of work to be put into them. Plus, they're very addictive - once you start on a Lego set, or a puzzle, you don't want to stop until it's finished. I've sat for eleven hours straight doing a Lego set just because I wanted to see the finished product as soon as possible, and during those eleven hours, my anxiety was non-existent. I was just enjoying myself the entire time.

4. Have a nap.

Very self explanatory, and yet controversial???

But genuinely, just go to sleep??? If you're having a gruesome day, and your mind is bullying you, and you're exhausted, just lay down and go to sleep. Fuck what other people say. There is nothing wrong with clocking out from the horrors of the real world for a few hours. As long as you get back up, all refreshed and ready to tackle another day, who cares??

5. Talk to a loved one.

I am very blessed that I can put this on the list. I know this can be a very difficult coping mechanism for a lot of people - trust me, I know. Growing up, my anxiety was my own, and not once did it ever occur to me to share that problem with anyone else. However, after meeting the right people, and understanding that nobody is going to be annoyed about hearing my problems, talking to people became one of the best and most useful coping mechanisms I've got. It can be as simple as sending your best friend a text telling them how you're feeling, or you can go all out and sit your Mum down with a cup of tea and bawl your eyes out. Getting those feelings out will give you a physical relief as well as a mental relief; the weight you've been carrying, a weight you probably don't even notice any more, will be gone in a matter of minutes. I promise you.

6. Exercise.

I know. I was shocked too. All those scientists that told us exercise and moving your body is good for your mental health were right. Bastards.

Just go on a walk. That's what I mean when I say 'exercise.' If you want to go to the gym and lift weights, or run a marathon, you go right ahead. More power to you. But by 'exercise' I just mean. . . move your body. Take the dog on a walk! Walk to the shop instead of driving! Get a bike! The tiniest bit of movement in a day can do wonders, whether we want to admit it or not.

7. Blast happy, sing-in-the-car music.

There's a playlist of Spotify that I highly recommend when it comes to wanting to escape reality and just have a good time. It's literally called Songs to Sing in the Car, and it's one of those playlists Spotify make themselves, just full of songs that you can sing at the top of your lungs, or blast through your headphones, and just have a real good time for a little while. I know it's easy sometimes to just go straight to that playlist full of sad songs that you can relate to in that moment, but try and go for a different approach - go find old bangers that you used to jump around to as a kid. It's a breath of fresh air.

8. Do chores.

Two in one baby!

A good chunk of the time, our anxiety is stemming from our to-do list, even if we're not thinking about it. All around us is evidence of all the unfinished tasks we've got to do, and that can really stress you out. Personally, whenever I'm anxious, I become almost camotose; I will just sit on the sofa and stare at the wall, feeling everything all at once. However, I've found that using this time to do little tasks around the house actually makes me feel better. I'm not saying I go and do a full massive clean; I might push myself just a bit to wash one or two dishes, or the whole sink if I can manage it. I'll hoover the living room floor. I'll go upstairs and put my clothes away. Just tiny jobs, only as much as I can push myself to do. A lot of the time, one job turns into two, and then two turns to three, and soon my house is spotless, and you know what they say - clean space, clear mind!

9. Take up knitting/ crocheting.

This one is pretty self-explanatory. I only discovered this as a coping mechanism when I was suffering from really bad insomnia and I couldn't sleep; I somehow found myself watching YouTube tutorials on knitting, and I was overcome with this intense urge to learn. It was literally one in the morning, and I drove to my Mum's house (dragged my fiance out of bed to come with me, too, sorry babe <3) and grabbed knitting needles and some yarn. I was up knitting for about an hour, and I felt so relaxed that I actually managed to go to sleep! For the first time in days! So not only can you make really cute clothes and nick-nacks and learn a new skill, you're also relaxing that anxious brain of yours for a little bit.

10. Have a good cry.

Yeah. Just this.

[livsspecialinterests]

was gonna do some work/studying this evening but my husband was annoyed about something before leaving the house, it wasn't something that was my fault (he literally said to me 'I can tell you're anxious because you think I'm mad at you, I'm not mad at you' so i know this for sure) and yet i still wasted most of the evening feeling sick with worry and compulsively tidying things up around the house because when i feel anxious i feel like a horrible messy piece of shit who takes up too much space so i atone for that by putting everything away and scrubbing down the communal spaces even though they're plenty clean. the other half of the evening was spent staring into space, paralysed in fear of an argument that's not going to happen - because the thing that annoyed my husband wasn't my fault, he said it wasn't my fault and told me he wasn't annoyed with me - but i still assume everyone's mood is my responsibility and everyone's bad mood is therefore my fault and he's come home and is obviously completely fine except for the fact that he can tell i'm very much not fine and i had so much work I could have done tonight and oh boy i bet he's glad he's married me lol

[babydollangelica]

Hey guys! It has been a while, I have an imagine of Severus snape x reader and how their normal lives would have been. So for all you lovelies out there who has their heart broken with professor's death. (Including mine) I hope this... soothes your pain. I hope I'm not too late.🥲

You will also find this and similar oneshots at the following link.

May this warm your soul.

Warning : NSFW, mentions of foreplay Pairing : severus snape x Femreader

LOVE SONG

It was a long and a tiring day. The noisy banter and chit chat at his workplace never seemed to stop. Infact he could still hear the annoying ringing in his ears that was caused due to high chirped noises of his hormonal raged students. He was feared and known for his harsh biting words, but it is getting more and more difficult to deal with kids these days. Although they do not act up in his class, he sometimes questions his occupational choices. Grumbling, he fights the lock of his door with the key and it opens with a defeated creak. And as soon as he steps in, the dim lights guide his way, the warmth of the fire place seeping in his chilled bones, aroma of chicken pie filled his lungs and a soft hum coming from his kitchen. He quietly closes the door and hangs his black coat, takes off his shoes and makes his way to the kitchen, with his bag in his hands, where he sees the love of his life humming a melody he played over the radio two days ago and pouring her self a glass of wine. He smiles to himself and leans against the frame as he watches her shake her hips to the tune, her short silk dress leaving no room for imagination as he ravishes her behind with his dark eyes. She gives off a happy sigh when her chicken pie is ready and turns around to gather the plates when she sees him. And with sparkle in her deep brown eyes, she squeals and throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and softly pecking his amused lips over and over until he gave into fully commiting his lips to hers and wrapped his arms around her waist while feeling her warm skin seep into his body as he holds her close kisses her senseless. "I missed you" was all she said. And those three words was all it took for him to drop his bag and swoop her up in his arms and drown her in a passionate kiss while crossing the kitchen in quick big strides, she wraps her legs around his firm torso and plays with his soft silky hair as he nips her lower lip softly. She could feel her self getting aroused with just his kisses and the feel of him against her body. He smirked when he felt her shiver, for he knew how sensitive she is. He softly squeezes her butt cheek and runs his right hand up her silk covered lower back and she moans lustily in his mouth and arches slightly. No doubt her voice will always be music to his ears, for he always enjoys hearing her humming, or singing and even gracing him with her beautiful voice whenever he ask her to sing him to sleep when nightmares of his past evade his peace of mind. But when it comes to love making, Her moans of pleasure are one of his most favourite sounds. He still remembers their very first makeout session on his couch, how it started with an innocent massage session when she complained about a kink in her shoulder. And being a gentleman he was, he offered to have a look at it, and she moaned the minute his fingers smoothen away those painful knots. He freezes when he heard her moan and looks at her through the mirror with awe. She blushes and feeling embarrassed she utters "I'm sor-" when his fingers dug into her shoulders again, and she moans, her eyes shut as pleasure consorts on her face. He gazes at her through the mirror except, this time lust clouding his dark eyes, as he inches slowly closer to her, his eyes not leaving hers and she was paralysed in anticipation on what he was going to do to her. She swallowed as she hears his deep baritone voice whispers in her ears "sensitive...I love it" and kisses her neck, she throws her head back, eyes shut and moans. From that day onwards, he made sure to know every kinds and types of sounds she makes. And he would repeatedly encourage her to call out his name during their lovemaking sessions. He sometimes wonders if his only reason for sex is just to hear her mewl, purr, gasp and moan in his ears while he touches, kisses and loves every inch and depths of her exquisitely soft body. He would prolong, or even delay his own orgasm just to please her and hear her moans and her cries of bliss reverberate in their

bedroom. He kisses trail down from her lips and she giggles when it reaches her neck. And pushes her self to look at him "the chicken pie.." He smirks and drops her on the big low couch, his dark eyes lustily trailing up her beautiful legs and now exposed stomach as her silk dress hitched up while he carried her to the living room. She looks at him looking down at her, her arms, thrown to to her sides, her long brown hair spread around her as her soft pink lips parted and slightly swollen, her eyes dewy and clouded with lust as a soft blush spreads from her cheeks, to her neck and the swell of her breast. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminated her beautiful features as his eyes drank in her sight. He could see her nipples taut against the thin fabric, begging to be touched, caressed and sucked on, his eyes raked down to the black lace panties she was wearing. He brushes his knuckles over her cloth covered mons and she gasp softly and bites her lips. He kneels between her legs and her chest heaves rapidly. He looks at her in the eye and says "the pie can wait". And ravishes her, making sure to embed himself deep in her, so that she won't miss him anytime soon, while she drowns her self in ecstacy, her soft mewls singing in his ears, as both of them come together, composing their very own love song, the chorus being

"Severus" .........

[beewithknee]

he's so mad

asher revese comfort

t.w - panic attack, hair pulling, self doubt and blame

The look in David's eyes couldn't have been described as anything less than furious and frustrated. “You’re dismissed.” He growled out, voice clipped. “But I-”

“Go home, Asher. You’ve done enough damage for the day.” Asher swore it was then that he felt his heart break. With his head hung and mind reeling, he almost ran out of the room.

Oh god he hates me

I fucked up so badly.

He’s never gonna trust me again.

Toxic thoughts played like a broken record through his mind and Asher was at the ventre, shattering inside. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been walking until he felt the door close behind him. The beta slid to the floor, knees landing harshly and mind still reeling. His whole world was cracking before him and he couldn't get a grip on it.“Asher?” Babe called, voice concerned. He was just sitting there, head in his hands and fingers gripping tightly at his scalp. To most, it would look like he was simply holding his head, but Babe knew him better than that. “Hey, Ash. Look at me, honey.” They almost begged, voice desperate. Choked sobs poured out of his lips, undisturbed by the person kneeling before him.

What the fuck have I done? He screamed to himself.

Asher knew that he probably should’ve checked before acting on his suspicions, but David always told him to follow his gut. So why… Why was he in the wrong? “Can I touch you?” The sentence broke through into his brain and the beta nodded, needing comfort like his life depended on it. They wrapped their arms around him, bringing his face into their chest. He wrapped his arms around their back and balled their shirt into fists as tightly as he could. Realistically, he knew he was over-exaggerating, but Asher’s rationale had skipped town.

He heaved in gasps, feeling slightly lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. “Shh, try and match my breathing. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They tried to soothe, hands coming to rest on his head and back. They placed two fingers down, tapping the rhythm of their heartbeat onto his back. He found it oddly soothing.

Almost like it was beating him.

Clenching his eyes shut, Asher felt the tears drip steadily. The fear circulating through his system was paralysing and he felt completely frozen. Babe leaned back, bringing more of him into their lap. They’d completely encompassed his body with theirs, making a little shelter for him to hide in. And hide he did.

Asher couldn't bear to move away from the comfort, to face their questions, to face the outside world. He was trapped in his own mind, with his insecurities and fears being blasted at full volume around him. It was suffocating and he found himself choking. Babe brought his face away from their chest despite his protests. They held his face gently, eyes meeting. His world seemed to slow as they looked at each other. They kept eye contact but placed one of his hands in the centre of their chest and exaggerated their breathing, wordlessly getting him to follow along. The air he got into his lungs had never tasted sweeter.

“You’ll be okay. We’re safe, nobody is hurt. We’re alright.” They promised, placing their foreheads together. “No, no it’s not. I fucked up. David, he… he’s so mad and I fucked up and its all my fault and i-” He rambled breathing picking up again. “David isn't here. I know it’s difficult, but for now just focus on me. We have all we need here. David is tomorrow’s problem. I am not mad at you, and I'm not going anywhere.” They soothed, knowing his anxiety would flare up again if he thought they were annoyed. Asher hated being annoying, a hindrance, a burden. “He's so angry babe. I really fucked it up this time.” His sigh was full of regret and pain and they felt their heart ache for the poor wolf. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow. All you have to do now is relax and let me take care of you.” They whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. He smiled faintly and melted into them. He knew they weren’t mad at him, he just wished David would be the same.

[sinhasaheart]

Hal getting Sinestro's soul from hell

There's a chill across the scene, inspiring true fear from those who have been apathetic to Sinestro's threats and demands so far. At first, he believes he is the cause, he has finally succeeded, but the back of his neck is prickling with the sensation of some vast shadow looming over him.

Carefully, cautiously, Sinestro turns. There is no inhuman monster, no grotesque demon such as he has seen in this miserable place. Standing before him is Hal Jordan.

Nothing can be more plain and simple than that human figure in his dull clothing carding his fingers through mussed brown hair with an awkward smile. It's possibly too perfect of an unassuming image but it's real enough and every function of Sinestro has been seized control of, a paralysing infection.

For vastly different reasons is Sinestro wary than to the common dwellers of this dimension. They sense the power beneath the illusion, everything that is not Hal. It doesn't threaten Sinestro. He's concerned merely about Hal Jordan, and for good reason. Hardly can it be considered shameful.

Sinestro's hand is grabbed and it's like ice as the image of Hal pulls him into a corner. None of the demons or spirits, whatever they are, seek to lend Sinestro aid. They are wiser than to interfere with the powerful force in their midst.

"Abomination," Sinestro greets when he finally yanks his hand free. "I have no interest in speaking with you. There is no history between us."

That gets a faintly annoyed look, partly fed up and disbelieving. "Not this again." It's Hal's voice too, a perfect copy. "I am Hal Jordan." And it is true, even as the image is no more than an image, an interpretation of being.

The interpretation is not the entire story and Sinestro will not be deceived. "You are not only Hal Jordan," he retorts.

Automatic is the answer, given without a hesitation, cracking like a whip. "And whose fault is that?"

Their eyes meet, yellow on brown. Nothing can be read in Hal's eyes, a mystery to Sinestro as they rarely are, and he cannot decide who has given the response, what is being referred to. So he remains quiet, waiting for some hint.

Finally, the brown gaze is dropped. "We're not here to talk about me," is said. "And you don't belong here."

A startled laugh escapes Sinestro for it is the very last thing he ever expects to hear from he who stands before him. "Perhaps you are less of Hal Jordan than you believe. To be so unaware, so disconnected from who you claim to be... Pathetic."

Something Sinestro has said appears to have made an impact. He's grabbed by the front and the fierce creature is glaring at him. "What do you expect? I'll put you inside my head so you can talk to the only part of me you give a damn about?"

Trying to appear unaffected, Sinestro tosses his own head and says, "You don't have a head, Jordan." Then he curses silently, the moment he realises what he's just said.

Grinning, Hal rests his hand against Sinestro's cheek and maybe, just maybe, it's a little warmer than before. "I'm getting you out of here," he says without further preamble. "Whether you like it or not. So shut up and do what you're told."

Sinestro bares his teeth but he says nothing, sulking but ultimately obeying. Resisting further is a waste of time. The will of Hal Jordan is impossible to deny.

[actualbird]

I hope you're doing well! As always, seeing a notification in my email that you posted another fic is just *chef's kiss*.

The newest story with Luke and Marius is simply - I could just post a bunch of emojis that would probably convey the meaning better but the fact that I read it three times should be another good indicator of how fucking brilliant anything you write is.

Which sorta brings me to my next point and it's something I wanted to ask you for a little while now. How do you just post things? I know it sounds stupid but I would love to be able to post fics, random posts but I just can't. I can't even write it just for myself. And I know that you can post anonymously and no one will know who you are but I still can't do it. I just get paralysed with fear. Not even talking about posting, just creating in general. I am just terrified of judgment and I have no idea what to do. Do you ever feel like this? How do you overcome yourself? Do you have any advice?

Just a desperate Hibiscus anon, who wants to post so so much but is a "little" afraid ♥️🌺♥️

heyyo hibiscus!!! glad to hear from you again and i hope youre doing well too :DDD

and waAAHHH, thank u for reading "beautiful like a forest fire (admire from a distance, don’t get too close)" 🥺 u read it three times??? i think u read it more than i read it when i was proofreading omg. thank u so so much for the kind words <3!!!

as for ur questions, it's not stupid at all. it's a really really valid and pervasive fear and yeah, i still do struggle with this. hell, i feel it like, every other day

tho how i get over it is.....dkjbfkdjgksd in the manner of how i do almost everything in my life, i take it apart and analyse it. and through this dissection, this is how i can get possible solutions

disclaimer that this is what works for My Brain. it might not work for yours, but maybe you can get something from my process that does work for your brain

so yea. in my brain it all starts with the core fear of judgement, right? well, i dont like how judgement is such a broad word. like, judgement is when people come to conclusions based off of info given and the nature of humans is that they can come to a wrong or even hurtful conclusion about info, which, in this case, is fanwork. but i want specificity. if judgement is about hurtful conclusions, what are those conclusions i dont want ppl to come to?

what exactly am i afraid of getting judged for?

the following is not an exhaustive list, but just off the top of my head some specific fears i get in fandom

whenever i post fanfic, my fear is that i'll get judged for it not being written well, for it not being a good story.

whenever i post headcanons or silly memes or drawings or whatever 24/7 nonstop, my fear is that i'll get judged to be an annoying motherfucker.

whenever i post niche weird strange content that doesnt mesh with what the rest of the fandom is doing, my fear is that i'll get judged for not making the correct and expected type of fanwork, that people will think im doing this wrong

personally, when i dug into all of these deeper and found the specific judgement im afraid of, it gets easier to parse through. first one on that bullet point is about not being good enough. second is about being too much. third is about I'm Not Doing This Right, I'm Going To Get A Bad Grade In Fandom.

so with those specifics, i shoot em down.

fanfic not good enough? fuckin hell, im not writing this shit to win a pulitzer, im here to have fun! and someone out there will think it is a good story, even if i dont

im annoying? abso-fuckin-lutely i am! and people who dont like that can just block my username but a lot of people do enjoy that i never shut up and i enjoy it too.

not the correct fanwork? anxiety-brain, show me the rules for fandom concepts. oh, there are no rules? then nothing is correct or incorrect, UNCLENCH! and no matter how niche the thing is, it'll somehow connect with somebody else because humans are neat like that and nobody is the only person into that thing

the whole specificity thing is a little bit more of a thought exercise thats not just helpful for fears of putting creations out into the world, but for a lot of things. specificity, personally, helps me figure out solutions.

but in general for judgements, i figure it can be summarized with:

one way or another, everybody is going to judge you and/or your work. but for every person who judges you wrongly, there will also be another who judges you with admiration.

fandom is already judged as strange from the outside by people who arent in these kinds of communities. in my mind, im like "well, might as well go with the flow then!" and i own it

create unapologetically cuz life feels a loooot better when a person stops being sorry for something they shouldnt be sorry about

sdkjfkHBJDFS I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE OMG

and i hope this can help in some way

[areluctantsblog]

My first fill for the starker bingo is ready! It's for the young!Tony square. You can read it on ao3.

Today we escape

Summary: Tony and Peter's lives change forever when they are outed as gay and as a couple.

Warnings: homophobia, mentions of violence and blood

Words: 1.5k

***

"Tony!" It's his boyfriend's voice but barely recognisable. It's breaks as soon as he gets his name out and he can hear him sobbing.

Tony jumps up in the middle of robotics lab and runs out to the corridor, his chest tight with worry.

"What happened? Peter? Talk to me," he pleads.

"It's… It's…" Peter hiccups, unable to form words.

"Where are you, baby?" Tony asks, whispering.

At that Peter only cries harder. Anguished, Tony waits.

"It's Flash," Peter chokes out. He takes a few deep breaths and manages to continue. "Took my phone. Posted a picture of…" his boyfriend's voice breaks again, but Tony doesn’t need him to say anymore to figure out what happened.

"Where are you?" he asks in a firm voice.

"Home," Peter whines.

"Pack your bags. Lock your door. I'll pick you up in ten minutes," he says, already returning to the classroom for his bag.

As soon as he opens the door every eye turns to him. They saw. Tony doesn't react in any way. He packs up his project, grabs his backpack and walks out without a word.

"You still there?" he asks as soon as he's out of the classroom.

"Yeah," Peter breathes. He seems to have stopped crying but he sounds shocked.

"We've got to go," Tony says hurrying down the corridors. "You know that, right?" That photo is going viral in their town as they are speaking. Maybe it's already reached the sheriff's office. Even if it hasn't, they have very little time to escape.

"I… Yes, yes, I know…"

Tony isn't mad for the hesitation in Peter's voice. Their life as they know it is over. Tony remembers the paralysing fear and shock that comes with it. He felt it when they did what they did to Harley. Tony knew ever since that he was only biding his time, waiting for high school to be over and to leave this town and never look back.

"We'll talk about it, I promise," he says, revving up the car.

"Are you driving?" Peter asks. "Let's hang up."

"Nevermind that. I'll talk to you if you need me."

"I'll be seeing you soon. I… I need to pack anyway," he says in a trembling voice."

"Fine, baby. I'll be there in five," Tony promises.

***

Tony doesn't have any trouble climbing up to Peter's window in the middle of the night, so broad daylight only makes it easier. Peter is waiting for him just inside. He looks a right mess. Tony pulls him into a fierce hug as soon as he's inside.

"I'm here, I'm going to take care of you," he whispers soothingly.

Peter breaks down with sobs again but by the time he pulls back, he's got it under control. He points to the two packed bags on his bad.

"Are you sure?" he asks Tony in a pleading voice.

"You remember Harley," Tony says.

Peter sighs and nods.

"I do."

"It's horrible that it's happening to us, but I can't risk them coming after you," Tony argues.

"And you."

"They wouldn't stand a chance. Sheriff Stark would lock me up before they could get their hands on me," he says bitterly. Then he adds in a more pleading voice. "Peter we have to go. We have to get out of this jurisdiction before he closes it down. We'll stop and talk this through as soon as we are safe, I promise."

Peter straightens himself and nods, picking up the bags.

***

"My mother is in the living room, sobbing," Peter says in a distant voice, staring back at the house as Tony pulls out of the driveway. Tony reaches out to hold his hand and gives him a reassuring squeeze.

They drive in silence for a few minutes, when Tony's phone buzzes. It's his mother. He only hesitates a second before picking up.

"Sweetheart?" she asks, sounding out of breath.

"I'm here," Tony croaks, mouth suddenly dry.

"Where are you?"

"On my way," he says with a hint of defiance.

"Good," she says. "Which way are you headed?"

"Best if you don't know."

Silence. "Can you make it to the old gas station by 86?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm your mother and you can't run away without any clothes or money."

Tony's throats tightens and he lets out a shaky breath. It's enough for his mother.

"I'll meet you there," she says before hanging up.

Tony chances a glance at Peter. He's watching him with tears in his eyes.

"I wish I got a chance to say goodbye."

Tony's heart breaks and he can't find anything to say, so he just laces their fingers together and keeps driving.

***

The sirens of the approaching police cars in the distance do nothing to lift their spirits even though the county border is already behind them. Tony wonders what story his father cooked up to warrant his persecution. Everyone must have seen the picture by now and yet the good town folk will lap up the lies their beloved sheriff tells them.

Tony looks at Peter and feels a surge of hatred for Howard at the sight of his tortured expression. After a moment's deliberation, he pulls over.

"What are you doing?" Peter cries.

Tony gets out of the car, walks over to the passenger side and opens the door.

"Come here," he says, extending his hand.

Silent tears start running down Peter's cheeks, but he goes.

"I'm sorry," he sobs into Tony's shoulder.

"It's not your fault."

"He came over to borrow a book and as I turned to fetch it…"

Tony tightens his arms around Peter. He's always seen Flash as an annoying, obnoxious douchebag and wanted to kick his ass oh so many times for bullying Peter. But now, now the things he would do to him… He shudders.

"Shh, baby," he whispers, aiming for a soothing voice. "You've done nothing wrong," he adds more firmly.

"I love you, Tony," Peter says after a few minutes.

"I love you, too. And I'll take care of you, no matter what."

"And I you," Peter glances up at him, tears glistening on his lashes.

"I know, baby," Tony says, cupping his face and kissing him.

They get back on the road in a few minutes. The sirens are still not far enough.

***

Peter dozes off soon after. At least that what it seems like, but Tony can't see his face. When he stirs he looks around in confusion.

"86 isn't this way," he exclaims.

"No, it isn't," Tony says grimly.

"Why?"

"He could have been there."

"Oh, Tony…" Peter whispers, reaching out for his hand.

Tony swallows hard to steady his voice.

"I have a separate bank account that they can't control. I don't have too much on it, but it will get us through the first week. We'll have to find jobs."

"Of course," Peter says. "But where are we going?"

Tony made this decision a long before today but he's never shared it with Peter. He told himself stuff like waiting for the right time and seeing how things between them work out, even though he knew he loved Peter and he knew that Peter would understand. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before speaking.

"New York."

"What?!"

"We can disappear there. Get jobs, make our own way."

"But it's so far. And it's not safe! Is it?"

"Right now it's a hell of a lot safer than any place where we have a chance to run into the same people twice."

Peter doesn't reply just stares out of the window.

They keep driving for almost an hour in silence.

"My aunt lives there," Peter says as if continuing the conversation they were having.

It's Tony's turn to be surprised. "What?"

"We are not in touch. Some trouble between mum and her, I guess," he shrugs.

"Can she be trusted?" Tony ventures.

"I have no idea," Peter admits.

It would be so much safer to have an adult to turn to, even though they are both eighteen, but Tony is very reluctant to trust. He has no idea what to say, so they slip back into silence.

"Harley is there, too," Tony whispers hours later in the middle of the night. He clings to the memory of his best friend as he fights his exhaustion. He drives, so that he can see the bright smile Harley used to wear on his boyfriend's face again. So that they can be free like Harley wanted to be.

"Do you want to visit him?" Peter asks and Tony's surprised that he's awake.

"I never want to see him again," he says, the first drop of tear that day running down his face.

He's fought against the memory of Harley's blood stained face for years. He never wants to see his best friend paralysed and comatose. He keeps him alive within him and hopes that it's enough.

"We'll thrive," Peter affirms. He sounds older than this morning. "For Harley," he adds, voice cracking, "and for us."

[mrsmonnie-blog]

HORROR STORIES!

Hey! Guys this is a new series I'm starting on Tumblr! I'll have the full versions published on my wattpad so if you like it leave a like and maybe check me out on wattpad!

NOT A SO HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

I'm turning 15 this year and so far it has been a great year alot of uplifts from buying our own house, my dad's new business and my mom recovering from her long-term illness, it's been a few days since we moved to our new house, it's a decent house by the lake it has a great view, yes it's small but way better than the chicken coop we lived in however, Never to complain but this house has given me weird vibes since we officially moved in

There's this really creepy shed by the lake it's been there since we first saw this place even though I wanted it gone because it looked creepy AF my parents decided to keep it saying it was a great storage space,

Each night as I lay in my bed which has a huge window which displayed the great lake view and a clear view of the shed

Id here all kinds of weird sounds as if someone was weeping or crying I tried to ignore it but as days passed it just seemed to get worse sometimes I'd even avoid going to the toilet because I was scared I might see something which I wouldn't be so happy seeing, as days passed I started to get this foul smell in my room and trust me it wasn't pleasant I tried everything I could get rid of it I washed the sheets , avoided opening the windows literally tried everything... When, to a point it just got so bad, I had to get my whole room washed, interesting fact was I was the only one who could smell, my parents didn't they just said I was just adjusting to the new environment and all but just to make me feel better they had my room washed, so that night I expected to sleep in a clean smell free room

Well let's just say I didn't get what I expected but this night was just horrible, at around 2 in the night I heard a really uncomfortable sound it sounded like a rooster but like it was been tortured and sounded like it came from down beneath my bed I was afraid to step down, I shut my eyes and covered myself tightly with my blanket and stayed that just praying nothing bad is gonna happen just as I began to calm down I felt the side of my mattress sink as if someone climbed into bed with me, I felt the fear build up in my body as from being a fully active boy I went into a paralysed state I didn't move, I just held the pillow beside me as tight as ever, I felt this someone get close to me, I was about to pass out when.....

My phone began to ring, I was startled awake, I was actually dreaming I thought the whole rooster and someone, I wasn't sure yet

I reached for my phone which was constantly blinking, I was annoyed wondering who was texting and calling me at this hour despite the fact I was relived I woke up from such a spine chilling dream

I opened my phone to see like a thousand messages from this unknown number I clicked it open

Text conversation:

Unknown: hey! Welcome to our home, finally someone to play with!

Unknown: would you like to play with me? My name is sully

Unknown: I'm 11 years old and I've lived here for years waiting for someone to come play with me! But your finally here☺️

Unknown: I have a pet chicken named tames, we play cut the chicken all the time, the blood and sharp knives are so much fun!!!

Unknown: aren't you gonna turn around and look at me I just finished a game of cut the chicken now am in bed with you!

Unknown: why won't you look at me!

Unknown: are you gonna play with me or not?

Unknown:☺️ im leaving now see you again tomorrow

---------x-----------

Look forward for the entire chapter on wattpad!

Check me out on wattpad

Username: @ishipvmon

[running-from-death-and-doom]

*a young looking person with blue hair under a beanie walks in and sits down opposite the Archivist. Something about them seems familiar, but the Archivist can't place it. They are dressed in mostly all black with a light blue blazer* I don't really know how to start this, Archivist, so please be patient. I’m not used to being interviewed. Normally I'm on the other side of this conversation and it’s rather strange to have the roles reversed. As you might have guessed, I'm a journalist. An investigative journalist to be precise. Most of my stories are looking into restaurants with questionable health standards, so nothing too interesting there. Well, not until recently that is. My latest story was a bit different, however. Still a restaurant mind you, not a lot of variety there. But this time, instead of trying to put it out of business, I was trying to figure out exactly why it went out of business in the first place. At first it looked like an open and shut case, both of the owners had died under mysterious circumstances on a hunting trip and since there was no one left to run the restaurant, it just closed. That was it. Nothing of note, and certainly nothing supernatural about it. But I was a bit too curious and dug a bit too far into what happened to them. I suppose all of this is my fault really. I just couldn't leave well enough alone. The hunting trip story didn't sit right with me so I figured out where they had stayed and went on an impromptu camping trip with a friend of mine and fellow reporter. Let's call him A . So A and I were staying somewhere near Rothrock State Forest in Pennsylvania. It was pretty quiet at first and there was a guide who was pretty helpful once we explained who we were and why we were there. She pointed us to the trail that they disappeared on and told us to be careful. Apparently they weren't the first to vanish off of that particular trail. I don't know why I thought she was joking, but for some reason I thought she was exaggerating to scare us. That was my first mistake. No, my first mistake was going to that godforsaken lodge in the first place. My second was bringing A with me. Although, if i hadn't done that then i might not be sitting here telling you this. At first it was a pretty normal trail and I began to get slightly restless and very annoyed. I remember thinking that when I got back to the lodge I was going to wring the neck of that guide who tried to spook us. In my frustration I must have gone off the trail because I looked up and I was in the middle of a clearing that was nowhere to be seen on the map we were given. There was nothing in that clearing except some bones and a section of the ground that appeared to have previously been home to a fire. By this point I was more than a little unsettled so I told A that we should probably go back. No sooner had I said this than there was a loud noise behind us. We turned around and there was a…a..well I'm not really sure how to properly describe it, but it was very large and it had massive….teeth. At least, I think they were teeth. *there is a mild pause as they take a deep breath to compose themself* For a moment I just stood, completely baffled by what was happening and getting more and more frightened by the second. It was in that moment that i realised that i had never before experienced the feeling of true terror. Not the feeling of just being scared, everyone experiences that on some level or another on a daily basis. No, I mean the paralysing fear of knowing that you are looking death in the face and there is no certainty that it will ever look away. The...whatever it was just stood there looking at me. I felt like it was waiting for something, and in a sense I was right. The second I turned around to run I could hear it behind me. I didn't bother to see whether or not A was following, but since I hadn't heard any screaming I figured he was fine. I'm not sure that even if he had screamed that I would have tried to help him. It sounds horrible I know, but at that point I was running on adrenaline and pure instinct. I

didn't stop running until I found the path and even then I was extremely on edge for the rest of the day. As it turned out, A was fine and we had no qualms whatsoever about leaving right then and there. We never spoke of the incident, but once we were in the car we nodded at each other as if to acknowledge that it actually happened and we weren't going crazy.We finished our story as soon as we got back. Neither of us really wanted anything to do with it anymore, we had gotten our answer. We now knew what fate befell the owners and we weren't too keen on going back and joining them. We thought that was that. It was over, we could go back to living our normal lives again. We were mistaken. About a month later, A is found dead in his apartment. When I was interviewed by investigators one of the first things they asked me was whether or not A had a large dog of any kind. This caught me a bit off guard as he didn't like dogs, not to mention he was allergic. I said as much and asked them why they wanted to know. Apparently, A was found in pieces all over the house, but it didn't look like it was done by a human. It looked like he was mauled by something, something big. I knew at once what it was, but I couldn't say anything because...Well you realise how that would sound. They would think I was cracked or something and then what would happen to my career. But I'm not crazy, Archivist, I know what I saw. And I know that you know that I am telling the truth. My cousin told me that you could help me and I really hope so. I also hope that you realise that it took a lot for me to come here and that I would not have done it if my cousin had not insisted so emphatically. I trust them a great deal and if they say that you can help me then I believe them. Because I do need your help, Archivist. I did not come here just to tell you this sorry tale of mine. I came here because I feel that I am going to be next. The same thing that killed A is going to kill me. I just know it. I hate it. The feeling that at any moment I could just cease to exist, that my life isn't even my own anymore. What if it was never mine and I'm just fulfilling the allotment of days that this miserable body of mine has? *there is a pause when they start crying. After a minute they brush away their tears harshly and sniff* Apologies, Archivist. I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps Cabbage was wrong, maybe you can't help me. Either way, thank you for hearing me out. Maybe if I leave now the thing will be waiting for me outside so I can die in the streets at least and not in my apartment. I really don't want to stain the carpet.

Hello Mx. Archivist, sorry to be a bother, but I really need your help. I feel like I'm being chased, see, but I can never really be sure. My cousin said you might be able to help me when I spoke with them a few weeks or so ago and I really am running out of options here. Starting to lose track of time... Anyway umm...hope this finds you well.

~🎧🌌 head space anon (of it's not already taken)

Hello there :)

Why don’t you tell me more, and I’ll see what I can do for you?

[pasiphile]

Hi Pasi! I've had a lot of time to think about life the universe and everything lately, on account of being unemployed and all :P And I have a weirdly personal question for you, as someone who was unemployed for quite a while and now is not. Are you like… happier now, now that you have a job? Like, is it fundamentally better? Or is it more like, "I know I'm on a path that will get me to where I will be happier than before?" Or something else entirely? (1/2)

Please don't feel obliged to answer my awkward prying questions if you're not comfortable with it! Hugs! c: (2/2) 

So when I got that question I initially felt a bit unequipped to deal with it because I didn’t really have that much professional experience, all things considered… 

And then I actually thought about and realised that apart from my current job and the unemployment, I’ve had another 4 job experiences that are each wildly different from the other ones, for a whole lot of reasons. So buckle up, because this is gonna be a long ride...

Job number one: Student job at a furniture shop for three weeks.

I hated it. Really really hated it. Especially near the end it was a kind of grit-your-teeth-eyes-on-eternity-carry-on-only-a-few-more-days thing. Multiple reasons here. For one thing, the work was mindnumbingly boring - and that’s actually saying it wrong because for the most part, there was no work. Furniture shops aren’t the most visited. When there weren’t clients to be helped, there was basically nothing to do. But you couldn’t just sit around, read a book, because that would give off the wrong impression, so instead you had to pretend to be busy. Just one example of how deeply annoying this is: at one point I got so damn bored I started rearranging the pillows some of the clients had put back wrong. Only afterwards I got told off about it by my colleagues because those pillows were actually supposed to be arranged in a different way, By Chain Store Guidelines.But it wasn’t just the work, or the absence of work. It was also the colleagues. We didn’t get along. They thought I was weird, I thought they were weird, I had no idea how to hold a conversation with any of them and one the whole, we kinda ignored each other. 

So. The combination of not getting along with colleagues, absence of meaingful things to do, and the absolute rigidity of the work, really fucked me up. I honestly think that if the choice was between a job like that and living off benefits, I would choose the latter (speaking as someone who lives in a country with a well-organised social support system, of course). If that was my actual job, I think I wouldn’t last for more than two months. It ate away at me and I was so relieved when it was over.

Job number 2: Student job at the government, 2 times one month

Now, this one was very different. Because of institutional nepotism I landed a student job at Internal Affairs (thanks dad), more specifically the Firearms Administration department. And I actually liked it. The work itself - I suppose most people would find it boring. It was pure admin. First time ‘round it was mail organising, account checking, that sort of thing. Second time they’d just switched to a new IT system and my entire job was putting files into a computer. I didn’t mind. The work might not be that stimulating but at least there was work. And it didn’t feel useless either: I could see the pile of folders slowly decrease day by day, which gave me a sense of accomplishment.The colleagues helped too, of course. For one thing, I wasn’t the only student in the building: there were five of us. So anytime I felt a bit stupid or did’t know what to do, it was a comfort to see the other ones with the same questions. And the people who worked there were nice too, the kind of typical middle-aged gossipy ladies you find in admin jobs everywhere. The one I got assigned the first time was friendly, but got a bit annoyed when she was interrupted by my questions, which made me feel a bit awkward - about the only negative thing about that time, I’d say. (Well, that, and the fact that the first three days I worked in an office all alone, because there was no room in the open office thing. I thought I wouldn’t mind that much - bit of a loner, me - but I did.) Anyway, the second time I got assigned to a different person and she was super friendly and also incredibly helpful, not minding questions at all. That really made for a nice working environment. And finally, we got some freedom. Our hours, for example, were flexible: as long as we were there between 9:30 AM and 4PM and worked 7,5 hours a day, we could start and end and take breaks when we wanted to. It might not seem like much, but that idea that it’s fine if you’re fifteen minutes later one day and the other day half an hour earlier made a massive difference compared to the we-open-at-nine mentality of the furniture shop.

So, that combination of nice colleagues, relative flexibility, and work that kept me busy, even if it was a bit repetitive, made for a nice job. Of course, it helped that I knew it was only for a month. I don’t think I could this for a really extended period of time.

(And afterwards, this was the kind of job I was looking for through interim offices. My idea at that time was to do a bit of admin for a few months, then be free for a few months, then work again… It wasn’t ideal but at least it seemed doable to me.)

Job three: intern at Couples Counseling for 6 months

Now, this is a tricky one. The work itself I enjoyed. I liked the contact with people, and once I got over the initial fear of it all I did like doing therapy, even though I did feel I was a bit shit at it. I also liked the surrounding bits - the meetings, the files, the updates… I really didn’t mind the admin-bits of it - especially because I knew it got combined with other stuff.But. The first few months were okay, but then things started to deteriorate. The team I was in consisted of three people who’d been working together for years. I felt like an intruder. Plus, they all had their different styles, and since I went along with all three of them, that got me a lot of conflicting information I couldn’t really combine. Then there was the fact that they worked pretty intuitively, not at all like the procedures I’d seen during classes… And it went wrong.  My mentors got annoyed by how distant I was, reading shyness and desire not to intrude as arrogance. They wanted me to open up more, talk about my feelings and my insecurities and doubts - which to insecure lil’ me, given that it was in the context of evaluation, was an absolute nightmare. The criticism I got wasn’t specific or helpful enough to me, so I started freezing up during therapy. Eventually it got to the point where they were seriously considering ending the internship early. Eventually they didn’t, but it was by now pretty obvious they considered me a problem they couldn’t wait to get rid of. Which is a horrible environment to work in. Those last few weeks I had to drag myself into work, everything inside me screaming how much I didn’t want to be there.

So. The work itself? Enjoyed it. But everything around it had gone so bad that the job itself became hell. I only lasted because I knew it would be over soon. I can’t imagine what it would feel like having to work like that for an indefinite period of time. If the choice was between unemployment and this job, the way it was at the end? I wouldn’t doubt for a second.

Job four: internship at an Eating Disorders for Children Institute, 1 day/week for 4 months.

The work here was similar to the other internship. Instead of couples counseling, though, here we worked with parents and kids up until about 13 years old. I liked the work, even though I still felt like I wasn’t any good at it - but I was getting better. And I liked the colleagues.Like before, it was a team of three. But this time, I had only one mentor; the other three were a doctor and a dietitian. They were friendly, and patient. My mentor didn’t mind answering questions, and gave me some good tips when I needed a bit of help. I pitched in wherever I could, and it was appreciated: in the final evaluation she mentioned how quickly how I’d become someone she felt like she could depend on. In the end she’d liked me to show some more imitative, but giving how useless and paralysed I felt after internship 1, I kinda understand that about myself. As for the work - once again I discovered I didn’t mind the admin. And there I did take initiative, for once. They kept everything in paper folders. Given that they were trying to get official and that having organised data would probably help, I shyly suggested if it wouldn’t help to have everything digitalised? Yes, of course, they said, but that would take time and they didn’t have enough of it as it was. Well, I could do it, no problem, I said. And I did. And when I came back about a year ago, I found out they still used the database I’d set up. That sort of freedom - where I can take initiative and not only is it allowed, but encouraged and appreciated... I’ve learned that’s something that I really want/need in a job. I need the freedom to do my own thing - and most of the time, if given the freedom it turns out better for everyone else involved too. Compare that to the job at the furniture shop, where I couldn’t even change the arrangement of the pillows... Yeah, no wonder I hated it.

So. Nice, friendly, supportive colleagues. Interesting work, which at least in part felt like I was good at it (the admin more than the therapy, which I didn’t get much experience with, all in all). Quite a lot of responsibility and freedom to organise myself the way I like. It all made for a very nice work experience, and it was this kind of job I was looking for when I graduated. Unfortunately, I didn’t find it.

Interlude: Unemployment (one year)

Now, what you asked me is how unemployment compares to being employed. And it’s tricky. I mean, if anything the above has shown that “being employed” can mean a whole lot of things, some good and some bad. But unemployment…To be honest, in and of itself I didn’t mind. I’m perfectly capable of keeping busy by myself for long periods of time. Some people aren’t; my sister-in-law actually flat out asked me, full of bewilderment, what I did, all day. Well, I wrote, I housekept, I read, I watched things… I think I missed social contact a bit, some days, but mostly I kept busy online and I met with friends often enough to not feel too isolated. There were a few days when I didn’t see anyone for the whole day, which felt a bit… weird, and I think that would have become a problem if that happened a lot. But on the whole, I was fine with having all my free time to myself.Downswing of unemployment: the job search. I have never ever been through anything as demotivating as that year of job searching. I kept an excel file with a list of all the jobs I applied for, colour-coded with categories for rejected letter; invited for interview; rejected after interview, and let me tell you, seeing that list of tried-and-failed attempts just grow and grow... It wasn’t pretty. The first few months, I didn’t even make it to the interview rounds. I kept writing letter after letter, describing my skills and accomplishments and motivations, and over and over again it wasn’t enough. Even when I broadened my search (from psychology-jobs to basically anything non-profit) and got to go to a few interviews, I never stood a chance. “Lack of professional experience” was the most often quoted problem, which is in one way frustrating - you can’t change it - but also weirdly reassuring: it’s not really me that’s the problem, after all.Still. What job hunting comes down is repeated and explicit rejection. You’re never good enough. It helped that I got a lot of support from my family (they never nagged) and my friends and my girlfriend, and it helped that I got appreciation for what I could do in another area (writing; this was when I was writing ridiculous amounts of words, and the comments and asks really were balm for my cracking ego). But it gets you down. 

(There’s also a bit of shame involved. Even with all the support I got, you still get some reactions that aren’t as nice. From what I’ve seen, a few months of unemployment are acceptable, but as soon as you cross the half-year boundary, people start looking at you funny. I tried not to care, and for the most part I succeeded, but it’s something you need to arm yourself against.)

Eventually, by spring (I’d graduated in July and started seriously looking for jobs in September) I felt pretty much hopeless. I didn’t see what else I could do. And at that point, I seriously considered just becoming a house spouse. My girlfriend was earning enough to get by, after all, and if I gave up on this stupid fruitless job search at least I could shut down that bit of constant stress in my life. It felt a little like giving up, but on the other hand... Wouldn’t it be better if I could make myself useful at home, rather than spend so much time on a job I’d hate? Because the only jobs I could see myself getting at that point where the ones that other people wouldn’t want because they were too boring or annoying or unsuitable in other ways.

And then I got a job offer.

I… panicked a bit, to be honest, because it was a government job that I’d applied for mostly out of desperation and I didn’t really know what the work entailed. And it was in Brussels, an hour at-best away from where I live. And it was fultime, where actually I’d been hoping to find at most 4/5.

I also got in the last round of a different job, which was more suited (I thought) to me because they asked specifically for a degree in psychology - the other job was open to any generic bachelor’s degree. And for a while I thought that given the choice, I’d take that one. But then they called me up (suspense, panic) to tell me I hadn’t got it (confused relief). The reason they quoted was that I’d been too dominant and aggressive during the group exercise (which is hilarious and made all the people who know me laugh when I told them) but in between the lines it became clear: they didn’t have the time to train someone, so they actually wanted someone with experience. Even though it  was explicitly stated in the job posting that experience wasn’t necessary. Well, fuck you then, I thought, and I went with the other job. Which is…

Job five: “planning officer” at the government selection agency, 6 months and counting

I love it.

You need to realise how unexpected this was for me. I was looking for a halftime/part time job in the social care/healthcare sector, and I ended up in what looked like an admin job for the government. I fully expected to hate it. I had to repeat a little mantra of you can just quit if it becomes too much to make it through the weeks leading up to my first day.

And I ended up loving it.

Multiple reasons for that. First off: my colleagues are wonderful. They’re friendly and open to questions, they work hard, they’re appreciative when I work hard, they’re funny and patient and for the most part quite kind. My mentor, especially, was a dream in those first few weeks, exactly the kind of person I need as a teacher: he made it very clear that I could take my time, that I could ask anything I wanted to, that it was okay if I made mistakes, but at the same time he also gave me a lot of responsibility and freedom right from the get-go. He trusted me to do a good job, and when I did fuck up he helped me fix it without a word of blame. Plus, he’s a bit of a nerd and we’ve got the same taste in movies, and we’re both kinda control freaks - it’s surprising how much that compatibility of personality matters, really. Or maybe it’s not.Then there’s the work itself. Theoretically, I’m responsible for planning and organising the test-on-computer rounds of every government job selection that happens - which is a pretty complicated thing of its own. But in practice, I’m a bit like a fixer. Because of the planning thing, my colleague and I get in contact with basically everyone in the organisation. Which means we’re the ones who hear about problems - and we’re the ones fixing them, or contacting the people who can fix them. I spend a large part of my job just gathering info and spreading it around again - and helping people out. I’m everywhere, hear everything, and along the road I try to smooth out bumps and fix breaks as much as I can.It’s hard to explain why it suits me so well, really. The freedom plays a big role. Practically, I can work from home up to two days a week, and my hours are even more flexible than they were at the government student job. And content-wise, my job description is so badly-defined that I can basically do whatever the fuck I want, as long as the organisation benefits from it. A lot of my job is just helping people with problems, which is something I like (and which I trained for, even though not for this specific kind of problems…). I get to be bossy. I get to organise things. I’m good at keeping calm in stressful situations, at looking at things and seeing how they could be more efficient, at keeping an overview on a whole collection of complicated interconnected stuff… And those are all things that are needed in this job.And what’s most important: I’m good at it. Plus, people notice that I’m good at it, and tell me so. There’s a lot of I can’t believe how you keep doing it and I could never do what you do. When I’m in the open office space with the other colleagues instead of the more secluded office I’m usually in, they’re amazed to see how often people drop by or ring me to help them solve something. And more than one team has told me that “things run so much smoother since you started here”. It’s the kind of thing that makes me glow with pride.

I don’t know if I will be able to keep it up for years, though. It’s intense: I get up at 6:15AM and get back around 6PM, if I’m lucky. I spent 2,5-3 hours each day on transport, and even though being in the train is actually quite relaxing, the whole voyage is still quite taxing. I’ve gotten used to it and it’s surprising how quickly something becomes routine, but even so, sometimes I really feel it. And it really is a stressful job. I mean, I like that it’s diverse, that it’s a challenge, that I never got bored because there’s just too much to do, but once or twice I’ve had a moment where I drop my head into my hands and try not to cry because it’s just too much.

So I’m not sure if this is a job I’m going to do for 10 years, or something. But it doesn’t have to be. My boss has told me quite plainly that they approve of me doing things that are actually completely no part of my job description, and that they’d like to see me evolve to a different role eventually. If I want, I can also change jobs and become a consultant, one of the people leading a job selection process. Not sure if I would like that, though. And if I want to apply somewhere else n the future, I can, because now at least I’ve got experience. We’ll see. ‘Cause that’s the thing here: right now, I really like where I am and what I do, and that’s what I’m focusing on. The rest, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

So, in conclusion: is it better to be employed than not? It depends, of course. A job that you’re good at is fun, and does Good Things for your mental health, I reckon. But even the most interesting job may make you feel like shit when you’re surrounded by people you don’t get along with - and that’s something you can’t predict. Job content, yeah, you can sort of see ahead if that’ll suit you or not (even so, remember that I thought I’d hate my current job, based on what I knew of it beforehand, and look how that turned out). But the people, the work culture, that’s something you only get to know once you’ve start working.

And unemployment… It’s not that bad, if you remind yourself that being rejected for a job doesn’t have anything at all to do with your value as a person, and if you make sure to keep contact with friends and family as to not get isolated. And as long as it’s financially doable, of course - I’m incredibly lucky in that I rent an apartment from my parents for basically nothing, that I have a partner who earns well, that I know I can fall back on my family if I’m ever in money trouble. Without all that, unemployment would become a whole lot more stressful, of course.

But on the whole? Society kinda wants us to believe that we’re nothing without a job, that being employed has to be the end goal of every adult. But that’s a lie. A job you enjoy and you’re good at and where you’re appreciated for it is amazing, and does definitely make you happy, I reckon. On the other hand, a job you hate or you’re bad at can be extremely damaging.

It’s always a risk, starting a job. You never know beforehand if it’s going to turn out okay or not. But you can always quit if it turns out not to be okay. And being unemployed... There’s a lot of stereotypes and misconceptions around it and you’re inevitably going to bump into those but to me, not having a job (or even not actively searching for a job) is in no way a less valid choice than being employed. If you can afford financially to be unemployed, and if you find a way to have meaningful-to-you ways of spending your time... Well, then why not?

[iamnothingbutuseless]

Too Much?

I look around

See all the happy people

In my brain the words say,

Why do I feel this way?

My life's not bad,

Its really not.

Then why am I like this?

I don't wish to draw attention to myself,

But how else am I to ask for help?

As for general advice they say,

"Your feelings lie to you."

But what am I to do with that?

When I've forgotten the truth,

When the lies are my thoughts?

My rationalisation out the window,

Am I not to react to my own self?

I do not seek attention,

But I think I might need it.

Where does healthy attention come from?

How do I talk about how my entire body shakes when I have to speak.

How do I tell them that at night I lay awake while head screams and my lungs burn.

How do I explain how sometimes I cant get out of bed or how I usually don't have the motivation to eat?

Because people say they care,

But where are they when I can't breath,

Or when I just need to talk to someone.

"I'm always here if you need me"

But dismissal is your middle name.

I don't mean to put my trust issues on someone undeserving,

But when Im paralysed with fear of talking about my feelings with you,

Then you obviously haven't tried to show me,

And I can't spill my heart when all I'm doing is wasting your time.

"How are you doing?"

Yeah Im okay.

"You doin okay?"

Yes, thanks.

Can't you see I'm not.

Can't you see I've cried everyday.

This isn't a cry for attention.

This is too many emotions.

Too much.

Too much.

Too

Much.

Am I too much?

Am I the problem?

My intention is not to deflect the blame,

But I'm so confused.

Because I could never get out exactly what I mean to say.

I could never make you understand,

That I don't know why but,

I pace and fidget when I'm on a phone call.

My hands shake when I do new things.

I cry everytime I think there's a chance someone might be getting annoyed with me.

And a group of people make me quiet and want to go hide.

They ask me why, I say:

I'm introverted, it makes me nervous, I don't want to.

They say:

"Being introverted isnt a good thing you know that right? "

"You need to get over it."

"Do you need to be on medication?"

And I'm sorry I'm an inconvenience.

I'm sorry my brain doesn't allow me to be the way you think I should be.

I'm sorry I can't be normal.

I really am sorry,

I wish I was different as well.

Am I too much?

Would it be better without me?

It's a question that's bounced around my head since I was like 10.

One that I haven't found an answer for.

Until then we numb the feelings,

The feeling that are too much.

Too much.

Like me.