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#I'm sorry but how can you be a sped teacher and be ok with how stigmatizing that is for the kids in your class who are fat!!!!!
lesbiandeancas · 1 year
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there needs to be a change in the culture of fatphobia in schools, it is so pervasive, even in a "liberal" place like Portland I have literally heard someone give kids a lecture on how fat people are a strain on the economy. today a woman couched her fatphobia with the word "fluffy" and the words came out of her mouth, "I don't want to be fluffy." think about how kids are going to take that when you're essentially saying, I don't want to be fat but using a "nicer" word
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pequenosol · 2 years
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Alright!! Hi!! It's been a while....again....but this time I actually accomplished quite a bit of stuff!!
So, after beating Tulip, I decided to take on Grusha. I actually postponed doing so for like a day or two because I was so nervous X"D
And when he showed up, he didn't really help with my nerves hffggxxfxgxfxfxfxf- I get it, Grusha!! You're edgy and have a tragic backstory, STOP CALLING ME COCKY DOES THIS SOUND LIKE IT'S COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO'S COCKY?!? 👀💦
Thankfully he was a pushover and I one-shotted all but his last Pokemon with Cinnamon and Osaimhthus c:
After that, I got EXCITED! Not only did I beat the last gym, but the next boss for me to take on was none other than the wonderous, spectacular little boi, ✨Ortega!!!✨ (for context, he's probably my favorite character in the whole of the Pokemon franchise <3<3 He's great...)
My team for the base was Lemon, Mei, and Cinnamon. I took out Ortega's piano teacher and defeated the thirty random Pokemon with ease- then. Then the little boi graced me with his presence ✨✨✨✨~
When he showed up on his Starmobile, I FLIPPED OUT.dtsrdrxtftcgvyvhhhvvvhvhcgcg- Just. God d@mn he's such a good character....I love the small sassy ones <3
ANYWAYS *clears throat* As for the actual battle...well. He definitely was a challenge- at least at first. Ortega sent out his Azumarill first, and OH MY GOD. That THING was a BEAST. It's Aqua Tail was SUPER POWERFUL on its own, BUT. BUT IT WAS RAIN BOOSTED TOO!! And I couldn't switch out to Cinnamon or Mei, because they'd absolutely get destroyed!! So, really the only thing that I could do was spam Max Potions on Lemon until either Azumarill missed an attack or used up all its Aqua Tails, and pray I didn't get critted- To quote Ortega, "Do you realize how out of your league you are now? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)" Yessir. Yes, I do 🥲
Thankfully, my prayers were answered and the Azumarill went down without taking any lives. I switched to Mei because Lemon did her job and did it well and deserved a break <3 Mei outsped everything and all of Ortega's other Pokemon weren't a problem, and so he went down and I could enjoy some cutscenes and lore about him c:
Next on my list was the False Dragon Titan! I trained everyone up and caught a Mimikyu named Sakura (he/they/fae) to use in the fight. Nothing really remarkable about the fight; Lemon took care of the Donozo and Sakura defeated the Tatsugiri without any problem.
After that though...MAN, THE CUTSCENE WITH ARVEN AND MABOSTIFF GOT TO ME HARD 🥺🥺🥺 I was freaking sobbing by the end of it you guys... T~T So beautiful...
Then Professor Turo ruined it and Arven started talking about his daddy issues >:/
Now, the last thing for me to do before all the big conclusions to the three paths happened was to take down the Caph base and fight Eri. And. Um. Can I just say I'm super intimidated by her??? X"D So, to cope with that intimidation, I put Guayusa and Coconut on the Team, and fully evolved them into Dragonite and Salamence, and leveled them (and Cinnamon) up to level 65. Yup. That's how scared I was 🥲
Thankfully, my preparations all payed off!! :D I killed all the Pokemon in the base. All of them. Without any problems c: Heck, I even out-sped and one-shot Eri's Annihilape(which was what I was the most afraid of)!!
Also quick detour I love the aesthetic of the area surrounding the Caph Base...it's so pwetty 🥺🥺
Anyways, I made Eri cry (sorry Eri :c) and then Cassiopia was like, "I'm the Team Star boss!! Meet me in the school parking lot at 2:00 am for a fight!!" And I was like "ok, cool."
So. Yeah! I'm getting pretty close to the end of the game, which is very exciting! :D Here's some art I did while I was gone, and I'll see you guys next time!!
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h0pelessm4n1c · 4 years
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About Face..
~Your POV~
It's a Sunday, Aka the one chill day of the week for you. You're taking a break from your busy week and nonstop work to just rest and relax at your apartment in LA, you were just returning from your trip to the cute little vegan shop as you returned to your apartment with the groceries.
"I'M BACK!!!" You swung the door open and yelled at the top of your lungs just to annoy her.
"Goddamn! OkAAyYY!!" Your roommate Ashley half-yelled back as she got startled. She was feeding the fish in the tiny fish bowl y'all purchased on a wild, drunk night out. To this day, neither of you had a clue as to why you bought it.
You took off your jacket and was left in your white tee and shorts, you always preferred to dress comfortably ESPECIALLY on a Sunday. You set the groceries down and started putting things away and it was Ashley's turn to act crazy, she was jumping up and down and she started a rant about how excited she was for her make up line aboutfacebeauty to launch next week.
"OMGOMG Y/N I'm so excited I think I'm gonna explode!!Ican'twaitforittolaunchdoyouthinkthefanswilllikeit??whatiftheydont??whatifitdoesntworkout??"
"Omg Ash relax!" You gently told her, "everyone's obviously going to love it cause everything you do is amazing, and that shits gonna sell out so fast H. I hope y'all have enough in stock, and your devoted army of fans are gonna love it love it love it, and 100% sure of that."
You've had a crush on Ashley for a long time now. You thought it was just an infatuation at first and tried to let it go, but the feelings never went away. You've never spoken with your friends about your sexuality and honestly you don't think they even knew you were gay. (not to mention extremely into H) You never told her how you felt cause obviously she'll never feel the same, she was WAYY too attractive and amazing for you. The way her mind worked and just how talented she was absolutely blew your brains out. You didn't wanna risk losing her as a friend so for now you'll just have to settle for being her roommate.
"Okay fine." She huffed like a toddler, 'omg she's so cute' you thought to yourself, nope. Shut up y/n. Shush.
You started to walk away from her when she suddenly gasped dramatically, "I JUST HAD THE GREATEST IDEA" she screamed. You turned around to face her, "what is it". She had a sneaky grin on her face which worried you.. what was she up to.. "You know.. I need some practice if I'm going to launch this makeup line.. I should hone my makeup skills.. on someone else's face ya know, and you're the only someone else around" she said while wriggling her eyebrows at me.
"Oh no.. hell no! No way Ashley! NO WAY OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Growing up as a tomboy you've always had a distaste towards make up, and no, you didn't hate the people who wore it, you just thought it didn't look good on you. You never wore it unless you absolutely had to and that was just a bit of foundation and some eyeliner maybe.
You started to run away from her, she chased you like a serial killer. You sprinted for your life, "NO ASHLEY FRANGIPANE I'M NOT DOING THIS GET AWAY FROM MEEEEE" you shrieked as you ran away from her. As you were passing the couch to run towards your room and lock yourself in away from this monster, you tripped over a bag on the floor. It was better to fall on the couch than to smack your face on the floor so you tried to balance yourself using the couch.
That was when Ashley pounced on you, she grabbed you and pushed you on the couch, she immediately sat on you knowing you work out and she must keep you from escaping in case you tried to overpower her. You were laid out on the couch facing her, who was sitting on you.. the view was amazing.. Ashleys hair falling around her face.. her perfectly cut jawline.. you realized the position you were in and immediately turned red.
"Now.." Ashley spoke in a slow taunting way "you, shall be my newest makeup experiment.."
"NO ASHLEY HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME, I DON'T WANNA WEAR MAKE UP, LET ME GO. THIS IS HARASSMENT!!" I shrieked.
Ashley just giggled at your response "Stop freaking out so much it's just make up it's not gonna kill you" she said,
"IDONTCAREIDONTWANNAWEARIT" you replied.
She suddenly looked sad, she pouted, turned on her puppy dog eyes and said "Please y/n.. can you please do this for me.. Please it'll look so good on you! Your tan brown skin and amazing curls, your dark brown eyes and sharp jawline!" Your tried to hide the way her gush of complements made you feel. God I hope I'm not smirking like an idiot.
The position you two were still in was turning you on and that made you extremely uncomfortable. And you were struggling to hold your shit together.
Fine. Anything to get out of this position.
"Fine." You repeated out loud with an eye roll.
"YESSS!!" She shrieked while jumping off of you (finally), " stay right there!! Don't move a muscle! I'll grab the maakeeuuuuupp" she said while running to her room. 'Great'. You thought, 'no escape now'.
She immediately returned with her makeup box thingy. "omygod how much makeup does that thing hold?? How long is this gonna take H?? Don't you think it's too much??" You started complaining even before she could begin. "Jeeesus y/n, just relax. It won't take long" she replied as if a school teacher trying to calm down a toddler.
She sat next to you on the couch, she asked you to turn facing her. Your legs were touching. 'Oh god what did I get myself into' you mentally smacked yourself in the head for being so stupid. She had been working on your face with her makeup for 5 minutes which felt like eternity when she scowled and said, "ugh I can't seem to balance myself and it's ruining the whole thing!! And you're too far from me" she said, clearly frustrated. "Um..ok-so what should I do.?" You asked clearly unsure of what was happening "oh no it's not you *insert nickname*, I just need to be balanced and closer to you, otherwise it's gonna get ruined" why did she not look you in the eyes when she said that, which was very unusual for her. And you're no Jeffree Star but how close do makeup artists have to get to put makeup on people. Something was sus. Very sus.
You went along with it anyway, "okay so what do we do?" She suddenly straddled you, you were taken by surprise and was powerless to do anything but look at her in shock. 'Okay y/n calm down, this is just about the makeup she's not into you it's all just in your head'. "This ok?" She asked you without fully looking at you, was that shyness? Ashley Frangipane shy? No way. Get out of your head y/n goddammit!
"Mmm no it's fine" you managed to muster out. She continued to work with the makeup on you. Time seemed to have slowed and sped up as well as you were very uncomfortable but enjoying the position at the same time, every once in a while eyes would wander from your eyes to your lips. And when you catch her doing that she would immediately get back to the task at hand with a very concentrated face. 'Okay...y/n so you're more delusional than ever.' You thought to yourself. You yourself couldn't help but admire her features, her Greek goddess-like cheekbones, her beautiful eyes that seemed to be constantly changing color, her amazing skin color inherited by mixing her two parents skin colors to perfection, her lashes, her eyebrows and your personal favorite.. her freckles. It was all on display for you to gawk at like a creep and you couldn't help yourself but stare. She seemed to have noticed what you were doing and both of you locked eyes.. she slowly set her makeup brush down without looking away. She suddenly grabbed you by the neck and passionately kissed you. You couldn't react, all the feelings you've been storing for years and years got the best of you and you were frozen in your own body. The kiss felt like heaven but she pulled away. She looked at you, you couldn't say anything. Her eyes filled with tears, "omygod I'm s-so sorry y/n I sh-shouldn't have done that, I'm so stupid" she stuttered. She got up and started to run to her room, "No Ash wait, Please" you managed to say but she kept going to her room. You ran after her but it was too late, she had already closed the door and you were left standing in the hallway.
____________________________________
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marshaeb · 3 years
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P.S: I'm Mated With The Cursed Alpha!
Chapter Three
Hey guy! Don’t forget to Like, Comment, Review, and Follow for more updates! My apologies in advance for all the grammatical errors. Book will be professionally edited when completed.
During the ride to St Pete’s, we were like fugitives taking several shortcuts to avoid being caught by Mom’s coast guards.
I checked my bandaged arm for any sight of blood, feeling the slight pain running through its fractured nerves. Exhaling anxiously, I tried my best to calm my troubling mind until Sarah took notice of my injury, panicking behind the wheel.
“Jo’, what the hell happened to your forearm?” She panicked, glancing between me and the road with her pink lipstick in her hand.
“Calm down, Sarah, please! Focus on the road before you kill us both!” I breathed out.
“So was it true?” she asked. “Did you really get injured that other night?”
“No, Sarah! This was recent!” I argued. “And that’s some stupid rumor Chelsea and Eugenia made up about me.”
“Dang! those two are still at it!” She sucked her teeth, shaking her head slowly. “So...what on earth happened to you then?”
“Gileon and Talloc happened!” I said, and from there I didn’t need to explain any further.
“Oh!” She mumbled beneath her breath. “Can those two ever get along! No one would believe those two owners are best friends by the way they carry on with one another. Sorry about that Jo’... I bet it’s Gideon’s who did it.”
“I don’t know which one had done it. I was too caught up on trying to separate the two savages.” I said. “I even got stitches because of them, and it hurts like hell.”
“Well, you know if you had told me this before we left, I could of cancel out on the party.”
It’s ok, really.” I said. “I could manage, and besides, I’ve already gone through the trouble, sneaking out to go with you...and we’re already halfway there.”
“True...but there’s something I want to tell you.” She said as the sound of howls reverberated through the shadowy forest. “there’s this guy named Bobby.”
“W-who?” I said looking carefully through the tall trees as we sped past.
Those howls, there was something awfully strange about them. They were definitely none of our kind. It also didn’t sound like those from the Tariaki tribe. Something didn’t feel right about it. What else could possibly be out here tonight in this region?
“I said Bobby, Jo’!” She repeated, but I was too focused on the sound drifting our way.
The tiny hairs on my arm began to rise as chills crept over my body. Whatever was out there was on the same trail as us. All of a sudden, all the commotion seemed to have strangely quieted down. My focus instantly drifted back to Sarah, who patting my legs, calling my name over and over asking if I was listening.
“Joel!” She called as she turned the corner. “What is up with you? Are you thinking about Jackson?”
My breath caught in the back of my throat. Jackson, I had no idea if he’ll be at the party. I love Sarah, but the main reason I kept my word about going to the party, despite my injury, was to meet Jackson out there.
“I heard he’s already making the second rank.” She said as a proud smile curl on my lips. “That’s saying a lot you know.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confusedly.
“Something or...someone had really boosted his stamina.” She teased, knowing just what to say to make me flustered. “I wonder. Who. Could. It. Be...hmm?”
“Alright, alright you got me!” I confessed.
“Did you let him have it?” She asked.
“Have what?” I rolled my eyes.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She said provokingly. “Did you let him have the goodies?”
I choked on the air, widening my eyes by what she was the remark. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lied, blushing ear to ear.
She gasped deeply, covering her mouth. “You did, didn’t you?” She exclaimed in disbelief. “And didn’t tell me! How was it? Was it good?... Did he make you cry, or even went all the way?”
“Gosh, Sarah!” I chuckled, turning up my nose. “What are you, a journalist?
“No, I’m not a journalist... I’m your best friend.” She said. “I told you the time I lose mines...”
“I was going to tell you eventually.” I sighed and paused for a few seconds, reminiscing on that magical night.
A tingling sensation came over me just thinking about the way he touched me. The way he kissed and caressed me. Why was I heating up like this? It’s so obvious that I’m new to all this.
“It was...very romantic and he was so passionate and gentle with me,” I explained, feeling my heart rate speeding up. “It really hurt at first, but after a while--
“It felt like paradise, I know. She added. “Every girl hurt during the first time. I did, but I managed to get over it quickly.”
“Do you miss him, Ricky?” I said.
She hesitated for a second and shook her head abruptly. “No! I’m totally over him, Jo’. Seriously.”
“And this Noah or Bobby guy?” I asked. “Who is he?”
“Bobby...He’s the physical education teacher at the school.” She blushed. “I caught him a few times looking at me like I was some sort of alien from out of space.”
“And...that’s a good thing?” I asked, furrowing my brows confusedly.
“Well... I guess because I ran into him in the hall and he was turning all red, fidgeting like a shy kid in front of a class.” She said.
“Do you think...you could possibly...you know...be his mate?” I asked.
“W-what?” She huffed. “Mom said the same thing! My mate? I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Because...I... I don’t know,” she stressed, “I don’t know who my mate could be...not until I’m eighteen.”
“But he’s not eighteen,” I said. “More than anything, he would know, especially if he’s acting like that whenever you’re around him. You could always find out. Are you scared or something?”
“Scared? I-I’m not scared of something I can’t control, but I am nervous.” She mumbled. “I wish I was like you and Jackson. You two already know that you’re mates.”
I chuckled faintly as it grew quiet between us, thinking about me and him. Those same doubtful, insecure thoughts were resurfacing my mind again. I hated it so damn much. Why is it, no matter how much everyone says it, and how much Jackson preaches to me that we are, there’s still this slight doubt that keeps haunting me? The feeling always makes me depressed, because I don’t want anyone else to be my mate, but Jackson. And I would be devasted if he belongs to someone else. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I love him too much.
~~~~
As we arrived in the parking lot of St Pete’s Tavern, the place was overly crowded.
“Why are so many people here?” I asked as we drove slowly past the crowd of loitering people standing around parked cars. “This was only supposed to be a class graduation-party...”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean the place’s exclusively for us only,” Sarah explained. “They’re still open for regular customers.”
I sighed, completely over it before we even step foot into the building. I looked out my side of the window and glanced at the unfamiliar faces. Most were either from different schools or were out of school for quite some time.
Like any wild party filled with young people, the music was blasting up to its max with the sound of people screaming and shouting to the top of the lungs like the imbecile they are.
“I had a deep feeling we shouldn’t have come.” Sarah sighed, disappointedly. “We should just head back...call it night.”
Before she started up the car to leave, I stopped her and tried to reason with her, but deep down I wanted to see if Jackson was out here first.
“Come on, Sarah...” I said. “I’ve already gone through the trouble of sneaking out again, just to make it all the way out here to go back?”
“I know but...” She paused, throwing her hand in the direction of the party. “Look at this... I wasn’t expecting this!”
“I know, but how about this...” I said calmly, “why don’t we just take a look around and then...leave.”
After a few seconds of trying to weigh out whether to go or not, she finally gave up and agreed.
“Fine! Just a walk inside, then we’re out of here.” She said, turning off the engine.
As we exit the car a loud, perverted whistle was blown my way. Instantly, I felt the pit of my stomach churn. As Sarah locked the car door, she pushed me by the shoulders gently and said, “Let’s go. Probably one of those morons from Valley heights.”
As we near the entrance, the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol was ramping in its hot atmosphere.
Sarah was following right behind me, when I suddenly paused, causing her to collide with me just before I stepped through the doors.
“Ouch, Jo’, what’s wrong?” She asked balancing her posture. “Why’d you stopped all of a sudden?”
There it was again. That chilly, dark feeling. It was now even stronger than it was before. What on earth could it be?
“I-its nothing...sorry about that.” I shrugged it off.
We entered the tavern filled with people, partying, dancing about, engaging in boisterous chatter. We shuffled through the packed floor. My eyes wandered everywhere with hopes to see any sign of Jackson, but instead, my eyes met hers, Chelsea.
How did I forget that she would be here too with her sidekick Eugenia and their clique of groupies?
“Wow, looks who’s here!” She shouted as they marched towards us. “Don’t tell me...”
“Did you sneak out the window again?” Eugenia concluded as they burst into laughter.
Chelsea tapped on her wristwatch provokingly, and formed a fake frown on her face, puckering out her bottom lip.
“Better be home before midnight, Cinderella.” She taunted. “Or Mama Alpha’s gonna have your neck like last time.”
I could feel my blood gradually starting to boil as they ran on and on. And the sad thing about it, nothing they said we’re lies. It was all the truth. Mom doesn’t have the slightest clue that I’m out and if she does she would definitely throw a tantrum and embarrass me in front of everyone like she always does.
“Hey, I remember that!” Eugenia said scornfully, biting on her stubby thumb.
“Let’s go, Joel!” Sarah said, pulling me back, but my wolf was to rile up to step away. I was ready to snatch her little throat.
“Who doesn’t?” Chelsea chuckled. “Can’t even go shopping with friends without Mama Alpha’s consent. I really pity you. I could never live with myself having a mother like that.”
“That’s enough!” Sarah said stepping between. “Leave her alone, Chelsea. At least she has a mother who cares about her daughter’s well-being, unlike yours!”
Anger and shamed immediately washed over her face as she couldn’t find the words to reply.
“Oh yeah!” Eugenia stepped into her defense. “At least she knows her real mother...you Joel don’t even know if your’s is dead or alive!”
Just like that, my mind went blank. Without holding back anymore, my hands lengthen into claws and I strike her hard across her face.
“Oh my goodness!” Chelsea squealed, supporting her whimpering friend. The folks standing nearby turned towards us as she continued to draw attention. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You had no right to put your hands on her!”
Together, they rushed Eugenia and her overdramatic gasping and wailing, into the lady’s room. Sarah too took me by the hand and escorted me to the bar to calm me down.
“Sit! You need to cool it!” She said, helping me onto an empty seat near the countertop. “What was that about?”
“Don’t you blame me...we were minding our business. They were the ones who started it.” I mumbled.
“I know...and she somewhat deserved it, but you might have hurt her really badly, Jo’. Then you’ll hear word going around that the Alpha’s daughter had struck someone at a party she’s not supposed to be to in the first place!”
Though she was right, I was too satisfied to feel bad about it. I had put up with their shit for far too long. At some point, I would have lost it and it just so happened to be that night.
“What would you ladies like tonight?” The bartender asked.
Sarah turned to her and ordered two martinis. After making and serving us our drinks, Sarah placed mines in my hand and said, “drink up, we leave right after.”
But I was too deep in my thoughts to finish mines as quickly as she did. I sat there, sipping my drink slowly, and stared blankly at the hectic crowd.
“Look, I going to use the restroom.” She said placing her car keys and pouch in my lap. “Watch them carefully, I’ll be right back and we’re off to go back home.”
When she left me there alone, my eyes wandered once more, hoping to find any sign of Jackson. By the looks of it, it’s seemed like he didn’t come out after all. I let out a deep sigh, clutching Sarah’s things tightly in my hands.
“Damn it! I should have known he wouldn’t be out here...” I mumbled. “It’s not like Jackson to go out without me knowing, anyway.”
As my eyes lifted and glanced across the room... settling on him.
No, it wasn’t Jackson. It was a very tall, strapping man with a face that was as if it sculpted from the Moon Goddess herself. But there was a dark, scary hint to it, sending shivers down my spine. I had never in my life seen a God-like man like that before.
Slowly, he raised his nose into the air which looks like it seems he was taking the most intense, exaggerated sniff I’ve ever seen.
His head almost instantly snapped in my direction. His eyes...those wild, golden eyes were steadfast and locked onto mines like I was the last prey on the earth. His long straight hair ran below his taut chest as he stood across the room.
All the laughter, chatter, and music had suddenly zoned out as we continued to exchange eye contact that was intensifying by the second. It felt like he was seeing through my soul, to my she-wolf within.
His postered was becoming more and more unstable as he leaned back in forth on his feet. Before I know it, he let off a loud, powerful howl that petrified everyone in the building.
I hoop off my seat, panicking like a madwoman, looking for Sarah through the raging mob.
I shouted her name as everyone ran to and fro throughout the tavern.
My eyes immediately turned back towards the unknown man and watched as he shifted into this gigantic black wolf.
My heart thrashed violently against my chest as I saw my life flash before my eyes.
The monstrous beast lowered its head growling loudly as it suddenly took off, sprinting towards me.
Right there and then, I knew this was the beginning of the end for me.
Read Chapter Four (Click the link below)
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ouraidengray4 · 7 years
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I'm Handling Death Without Faith, but It Really Sucks
I put my dog to sleep yesterday.
If you haven't had the experience, well, it's terrible. It's long and drawn out, like a nightmare in slow motion. There’s a calm, clinical explanation of the procedure, followed by paperwork, then decisions you have to make when you can barely breathe, much less think. There’s being asked questions like, Do you want his ashes?
No, I have my father's ashes, I said. I don't want any more ashes.
I was holding my dog's lifeless body as the doctor went for the door. I'll give you a few minutes, she said, and I cried at her, Ohgodpleasedon'tleavemealonewithhim. I watched his slack face fall toward me as she gently lifted him from my arms.
The whole time, I thought about my dad. Trying not to let my limbs spontaneously fall apart, I squinted at the florescent lights, whispering, Please please just give me a sign please let me know you're here let me know I'm OK please please please.
I wish I could tell you I felt something.
I left the vet clutching my dog’s leash. They kept his collar; I wanted to go back and get it, but I couldn't make myself. As I walked to my car, a woman called out to me, waving a bunch of tissues in her hand. When she saw my face, she burst into tears and told me how sorry she was; she'd been there before. It's horrible, she said. She put the tissues in my hand and gave me a big hug. He was right there with you the whole time, and he's with you still. He will always be with you. You will see him again. He's crossed that rainbow bridge; he's in a better place.
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I wish I could tell you I felt something.
I wish I could tell you I was surprised, or disappointed, that my dad didn't show up last night. Truthfully though, I don't feel my dad anywhere. I never have. I feel like other people are more sure of my dad's continued presence in my life than I am; I get told all the time that He's still with me, he's smiling down on me, he's proud of me... I know these phrases are meant to bring comfort, but the truth is that I long for the sort of certainty they evince, and I'm just not equipped for that kind of faith.
Ghost sightings run deep on my mom's side; I grew up listening to stories about how, during the war, my grandmother evacuated her house because she was warned by her long-dead grandfather; there was a bombing minutes later, and every window of the house was blown in. And she used to chat it up with her mother-in-law in the coat closet, relaying messages in Yiddish to my grandfather that she couldn’t possibly understand because she didn’t speak it.
Then there’s her mother, my great-grandmother, who was pulled from the curb just as a car sped by; that night, she was visited by her dead father, who warned her to be more careful, as he couldn’t be around all the time to take care of her. I'm not sure why this talent, or gift, or whatever, skipped my brothers and me. Maybe we're too skeptical, we weren't raised in a faith, we were never asked to believe anything for which there was no proof—maybe you really need to be hard-wired for that sort of stuff from an early age.
My dad lives on in other ways. And for the most part, it is enough. He’s there in the light-hearted jokes we can now make at his expense, in my terrible Korean accent, in the ways in which my brothers uncannily resemble him both in stature and demeanor. When I am pushing my body to its physical limits, when I can't stop fighting a painstakingly uphill battle, when I pass his terrible jokes on to my students, I know I am my father's daughter. When I create art, he would say that, too, is from him, but let's keep this between us—he couldn't draw for sh*t.
I don't know what's after all this.
I hope my little boy lost is somewhere nice. I hope there's a rainbow bridge that leads to lots of cheese.
In the end, maybe we don’t all need faith. Maybe love is enough religion, for me: I love my family, I love my inimitable sisterhood of friends, I love my job, I love tuna sandwiches served with a half sour pickle, I love the adrenaline rush I get in an airport terminal, I love a quiet day of napping and reading and painting and watching RuPaul's Drag Race. Maybe I can hang my little heart on all that love, and hope the rest works itself out.
I still wait for my dad to appear in a closet and tell me something awesome, or just normal, just him. I had a dream last night that Dad hugged me and told me he was sorry. Did he visit me? Or was it the Xanax and glass of chard I downed when I got home from the vet? I guess the point of faith is that you don't need proof, but since I don't have that gift, I'll just say that it was nice to see his face.
Mikayla Park is a teacher/nonprofit creative person residing in the slums of Beverly Hills. Find her, and her two charming rescue dogs, everywhere at @mikaylapark.
from Greatist RSS http://ift.tt/2jVTgEm I'm Handling Death Without Faith, but It Really Sucks Greatist RSS from HEALTH BUZZ http://ift.tt/2jW1wE3
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Text
I'm Handling Death Without Faith, but It Really Sucks
New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/health/im-handling-death-without-faith-but-it-really-sucks/
I'm Handling Death Without Faith, but It Really Sucks
I put my dog to sleep yesterday.
If you haven’t had the experience, well, it’s terrible. It’s long and drawn out, like a nightmare in slow motion. There’s a calm, clinical explanation of the procedure, followed by paperwork, then decisions you have to make when you can barely breathe, much less think. There’s being asked questions like, Do you want his ashes?
No, I have my father’s ashes, I said. I don’t want any more ashes.
I was holding my dog’s lifeless body as the doctor went for the door. I’ll give you a few minutes, she said, and I cried at her, Ohgodpleasedon’tleavemealonewithhim. I watched his slack face fall toward me as she gently lifted him from my arms.
The whole time, I thought about my dad. Trying not to let my limbs spontaneously fall apart, I squinted at the florescent lights, whispering, Please please just give me a sign please let me know you’re here let me know I’m OK please please please.
I wish I could tell you I felt something.
I left the vet clutching my dog’s leash. They kept his collar; I wanted to go back and get it, but I couldn’t make myself. As I walked to my car, a woman called out to me, waving a bunch of tissues in her hand. When she saw my face, she burst into tears and told me how sorry she was; she’d been there before. It’s horrible, she said. She put the tissues in my hand and gave me a big hug. He was right there with you the whole time, and he’s with you still. He will always be with you. You will see him again. He’s crossed that rainbow bridge; he’s in a better place.
You might also like
displayTitle READ
I wish I could tell you I felt something.
I wish I could tell you I was surprised, or disappointed, that my dad didn’t show up last night. Truthfully though, I don’t feel my dad anywhere. I never have. I feel like other people are more sure of my dad’s continued presence in my life than I am; I get told all the time that He’s still with me, he’s smiling down on me, he’s proud of me… I know these phrases are meant to bring comfort, but the truth is that I long for the sort of certainty they evince, and I’m just not equipped for that kind of faith.
Ghost sightings run deep on my mom’s side; I grew up listening to stories about how, during the war, my grandmother evacuated her house because she was warned by her long-dead grandfather; there was a bombing minutes later, and every window of the house was blown in. And she used to chat it up with her mother-in-law in the coat closet, relaying messages in Yiddish to my grandfather that she couldn’t possibly understand because she didn’t speak it.
Then there’s her mother, my great-grandmother, who was pulled from the curb just as a car sped by; that night, she was visited by her dead father, who warned her to be more careful, as he couldn’t be around all the time to take care of her. I’m not sure why this talent, or gift, or whatever, skipped my brothers and me. Maybe we’re too skeptical, we weren’t raised in a faith, we were never asked to believe anything for which there was no proof—maybe you really need to be hard-wired for that sort of stuff from an early age.
My dad lives on in other ways. And for the most part, it is enough. He’s there in the light-hearted jokes we can now make at his expense, in my terrible Korean accent, in the ways in which my brothers uncannily resemble him both in stature and demeanor. When I am pushing my body to its physical limits, when I can’t stop fighting a painstakingly uphill battle, when I pass his terrible jokes on to my students, I know I am my father’s daughter. When I create art, he would say that, too, is from him, but let’s keep this between us—he couldn’t draw for sh*t.
I don’t know what’s after all this.
I hope my little boy lost is somewhere nice. I hope there’s a rainbow bridge that leads to lots of cheese.
In the end, maybe we don’t all need faith. Maybe love is enough religion, for me: I love my family, I love my inimitable sisterhood of friends, I love my job, I love tuna sandwiches served with a half sour pickle, I love the adrenaline rush I get in an airport terminal, I love a quiet day of napping and reading and painting and watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. Maybe I can hang my little heart on all that love, and hope the rest works itself out.
I still wait for my dad to appear in a closet and tell me something awesome, or just normal, just him. I had a dream last night that Dad hugged me and told me he was sorry. Did he visit me? Or was it the Xanax and glass of chard I downed when I got home from the vet? I guess the point of faith is that you don’t need proof, but since I don’t have that gift, I’ll just say that it was nice to see his face.
Mikayla Park is a teacher/nonprofit creative person residing in the slums of Beverly Hills. Find her, and her two charming rescue dogs, everywhere at @mikaylapark.
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foursprout-blog · 7 years
Text
I'm Handling Death Without Faith, but It Really Sucks
New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/health/im-handling-death-without-faith-but-it-really-sucks/
I'm Handling Death Without Faith, but It Really Sucks
I put my dog to sleep yesterday.
If you haven’t had the experience, well, it’s terrible. It’s long and drawn out, like a nightmare in slow motion. There’s a calm, clinical explanation of the procedure, followed by paperwork, then decisions you have to make when you can barely breathe, much less think. There’s being asked questions like, Do you want his ashes?
No, I have my father’s ashes, I said. I don’t want any more ashes.
I was holding my dog’s lifeless body as the doctor went for the door. I’ll give you a few minutes, she said, and I cried at her, Ohgodpleasedon’tleavemealonewithhim. I watched his slack face fall toward me as she gently lifted him from my arms.
The whole time, I thought about my dad. Trying not to let my limbs spontaneously fall apart, I squinted at the florescent lights, whispering, Please please just give me a sign please let me know you’re here let me know I’m OK please please please.
I wish I could tell you I felt something.
I left the vet clutching my dog’s leash. They kept his collar; I wanted to go back and get it, but I couldn’t make myself. As I walked to my car, a woman called out to me, waving a bunch of tissues in her hand. When she saw my face, she burst into tears and told me how sorry she was; she’d been there before. It’s horrible, she said. She put the tissues in my hand and gave me a big hug. He was right there with you the whole time, and he’s with you still. He will always be with you. You will see him again. He’s crossed that rainbow bridge; he’s in a better place.
You might also like
displayTitle READ
I wish I could tell you I felt something.
I wish I could tell you I was surprised, or disappointed, that my dad didn’t show up last night. Truthfully though, I don’t feel my dad anywhere. I never have. I feel like other people are more sure of my dad’s continued presence in my life than I am; I get told all the time that He’s still with me, he’s smiling down on me, he’s proud of me… I know these phrases are meant to bring comfort, but the truth is that I long for the sort of certainty they evince, and I’m just not equipped for that kind of faith.
Ghost sightings run deep on my mom’s side; I grew up listening to stories about how, during the war, my grandmother evacuated her house because she was warned by her long-dead grandfather; there was a bombing minutes later, and every window of the house was blown in. And she used to chat it up with her mother-in-law in the coat closet, relaying messages in Yiddish to my grandfather that she couldn’t possibly understand because she didn’t speak it.
Then there’s her mother, my great-grandmother, who was pulled from the curb just as a car sped by; that night, she was visited by her dead father, who warned her to be more careful, as he couldn’t be around all the time to take care of her. I’m not sure why this talent, or gift, or whatever, skipped my brothers and me. Maybe we’re too skeptical, we weren’t raised in a faith, we were never asked to believe anything for which there was no proof—maybe you really need to be hard-wired for that sort of stuff from an early age.
My dad lives on in other ways. And for the most part, it is enough. He’s there in the light-hearted jokes we can now make at his expense, in my terrible Korean accent, in the ways in which my brothers uncannily resemble him both in stature and demeanor. When I am pushing my body to its physical limits, when I can’t stop fighting a painstakingly uphill battle, when I pass his terrible jokes on to my students, I know I am my father’s daughter. When I create art, he would say that, too, is from him, but let’s keep this between us—he couldn’t draw for sh*t.
I don’t know what’s after all this.
I hope my little boy lost is somewhere nice. I hope there’s a rainbow bridge that leads to lots of cheese.
In the end, maybe we don’t all need faith. Maybe love is enough religion, for me: I love my family, I love my inimitable sisterhood of friends, I love my job, I love tuna sandwiches served with a half sour pickle, I love the adrenaline rush I get in an airport terminal, I love a quiet day of napping and reading and painting and watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. Maybe I can hang my little heart on all that love, and hope the rest works itself out.
I still wait for my dad to appear in a closet and tell me something awesome, or just normal, just him. I had a dream last night that Dad hugged me and told me he was sorry. Did he visit me? Or was it the Xanax and glass of chard I downed when I got home from the vet? I guess the point of faith is that you don’t need proof, but since I don’t have that gift, I’ll just say that it was nice to see his face.
Mikayla Park is a teacher/nonprofit creative person residing in the slums of Beverly Hills. Find her, and her two charming rescue dogs, everywhere at @mikaylapark.
0 notes