#Worst thing about being poly is that you can disappoint and be a burden to more than one partner at a time

[sonofshu]

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[steamingtoasterstrudel]

Selbstbeobachtung: Part one - Falling in love with two people... at once.

From a very young age, I became well acquainted with what it felt like to have unconditional love, and boy did I have a lot of it.

I grew up in a middle class household, in the middle of no where, with lots of empty space and farmland around. I was very much a sheltered child.  I was a very sexual being growing up, always curious about everything including human biology. I knew that it was taboo to ask about that kind of stuff, especially growing up in a very conservative family. I was very confused and conflicted for most of my life, but I knew that if i didn’t find a husband and get married that my family would be disappointed. I always joke that my grandma’s worst nightmare would be that I brought home a black woman and introduced her as my girlfriend. And she doesn’t know it had a very real chance of happening. Hell, I remember one time I called my mom all excited to share something and she assumed that I was coming out to her in that phone call.  And it’s sad, that people are so afraid of love. And yes while wielding it can be dangerous, if it is offered with a quiet, humble heart, it has so much potential.

I was always very approachable to people. My mom would say that when I was a baby I could just light up the whole room with my laugh. It seems that even then, I may have felt the burden of happiness. And may I say, I find it extremely hilarious that I feel so much purpose to serve people and make them happy and I can’t even fucking make myself happy. I will always struggle with depression and anxiety. Growing up through school I trusted too easy, affection came readily, and I wasn’t prepared for the denial of classmates. Little things that others could brush off I would focus on and beat myself up over. As I entered middle school I met Tabitha Oliver. We were fast friends, I like to think it’s because we were connected, soulmates even, this isn’t something until I realized later. For some reason I kept everyone in high school at a distance, and I think that is because my heart was guarded, or that I knew that most my love was already invested.  Everything always felt so raw and honestly I don’t think I could have handled large rejections. I am so quick to “I love you”. And I think it’s bizarre that others don’t. Life is just too short to not let people, that mean anything to you, know that you love them for whatever reason. That being said. There is a definite switch between friendly love and soulmate level of love. Passion is a whole other level of love/lust. I might go into these feelings deeper but right now I wanted to touch on my own identity.

I am a cis female, a pansexual, and at the moment, polyamorous. Some people may scoff at the “for a moment” bit. Life is always changing and so are wants and desires. I assume I will be poly until I die, but how can I know, so I prefer not to worry about it. I knew very early on that I was a pansexual. I didn’t care much for the outside of a person unless it was their smile, or the way their eyes would light up when they laughed. I didn’t care. Not only that but it wasn’t too frowned upon in society or my parents. They might have a hard time if I brought a lady home, but my  mom always taught me to follow my heart. Polyamoury was always taboo. It felt wrong. That I would be jealous because I am clingy in nature. So I always put it out of my mind. It wasn’t until my best friend passed that I came back to that thought. She was married, but even then I would come over to hang out just as I had in high school. We would all cuddle in the same bed, Tab sandwiched in the middle. When she got mad at her husband, we would talk often about how we would run off, and it never seemed like a joke. And thinking back on it. About how much I cared for her, wanted the world for her... she was my soulmate. This was my first taste on a poly relationship. She passed away suddenly in Aug. 2014. And after she died I became chronically depressed. I was depressed before, but now I was just overwhelmed. This was because I didn’t realize the weight of the loss. 

Now with this all in the back of my mind I started experiencing things as an “adult”. I was on my own, I now have a job and pay my own bills. The looming threat of disappointing my mother is only a small nag in my mind. I am dating someone that we’ve been through highs and lowest lows. His name is Andrew. We broke up after a year of dating, due to communication issues, but now are stronger than ever. And during this break I dated people. Partly to distract myself, but also because I needed to know what my heart wanted. Much like dormant volcano can become active once more, I realized my capacity for love again. I dated a handful of people that are still in my life today. I say that as if it was so long ago but it’s only been a year. During this break I realized two things. 1. I loved Andrew and wanted him in my life, one way or another. 2. I also started to have crushes for other people, that weren’t easily ignored.

Because poly was taboo I shut down these feelings and focused on rebuilding a healthy relationship with Andrew based on communication and friendship. I feel like this is one of the places most relationships go wrong. He is basically one of my best friends, and I can come to him for everything.  And I mean everything. See those people that I went on a handful of dates, they never left my mind. I think that is the curse of a big heart. Anyone that leaves an impression on me leaves it for good. And it got to the point where I think the universe basically threw them back into my lives on purpose even though I had lost their numbers in a phone I lost on the hood of a car.

I am happily dating 4 people. They range from a more serious, filling, life long love to a lower burning flame for people that I like being intimate with. I live with Andrew, and spend time with the rest in sort of a descending stair-step amount of time. From weekly, to another every month or so. Everyone knows about each other, or that I am poly, that one love doesn’t replace the other. And let me tell you poly is not for the faint of heart. Communication, confidence, and patience is key, if you want to keep multiple people happy. As a person that suffers from crippling depression, anxiety, and paranoia, my heart feels so much more free now, even with more people to worry about. And it’s such a bizarre feeling to be 23 and finally become acquainted with who you really are; essential I am a big squishy ball of anxiety and love for others.

It’s by no means easy to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced that level of intensity. Because I unconditionally love Andrew and will always. But lately I have begun to fall in love with someone and it’s such a different experience that there is no way in my head they could replace each other. If I lost either person, I would ache and feel their loss. And to explain to one soulmate that you will love them forever but may also love another is hard because as a society we are so guarded against love. I am so thankful to have Andrew, as he is incredibly understanding, and has told me many times that he can see it on my face how much the others mean to me. To be able to talk out my paranoias about the others with him is such a blessing. And while some may argue isn’t that what friends are for I respond with, “Yes. Exactly, now imagine spending the rest of your life with them. Having a small group of people that you trust unconditionally with your everything. Yeah. I want that for the rest of my life”.But ultimately, I know that I want to never settle on the topic of happiness. And that’s my goal, to live a happy life, but most of all share that happiness with others. I think that I am well on my way. ~

[dreamweavermosseux]

Day 61 Colossus 1329AE

"I am a Good Person" List

Played with a baby griffon

Sparred with Ebon

Rhoeta would be pleased that I took my shield into the Frontier. Getting lots of exercise too.

. . .

Ras loves me. He loves me he loves me he loves me.

Ebon wants to be my friend. So does Ame. I didn't fuck up everything.

I did not completely disappoint Rhoeta in training.

Neeka liked the book. She said it was realistic in its portrayal of seafaring, which is a happy surprise to me. No wonder you're so alone. You are not alone. Don't you forget that.

They wrote a whole folder’s worth of reports about me. And no one fucking told me.

I’m angry. Can I be angry? Do I have any right to be angry? I know why no one told me.

I can’t take a joke, so how can I be trusted when an actual issue arises? How do they know I won’t burst into tears at the wrong word, the wrong look?

They can’t, and that’s why I’m in this mess.

But fuck it. I need somewhere that I can be angry and selfish, and it’s better to be that to a piece of paper than to a real person.

I resent them.

I resent Lock, though I shouldn’t. I know full well I have responsibilities and expectations. I feel the pressure of expectations every day, despite being “allowed to be silly and goofy”. I know full well I abandoned them. I don’t know what came over me after I told them that Vila was dead. I honestly remember nothing about the whole exchange. But I asked them for help and they threw my failings in my face, valid as the critique is.

At least Airia tried, sort of. While agreeing with Lock.

I resent Poly for teasing me on comms, then treating me like something disgusting, filthy, a hazard to avoid. Because I don’t internalize enough of that on my own. And I can’t say anything to her because I’ll be called in for picking fights. And when I report her to Baine, I feel like a burden, adding to his mountain of responsibilities while he’s grieving for his dead wife.

I resent myself most of all though. That’s nothing new.

Mirttus, even after every time I’ve upset him, told me that I didn’t deserve to be teased. He told me that I was a good kid.

I don’t think I’m a good kid anymore.

Good kids don’t yell at their coworkers. Good kids don’t get defensive when someone calls them out on neglecting their duties. Good kids aren’t whores who blush and stammer at any man within feet of them.

If I’m a whore, then I deserve whatever’s coming to me. I either accept ridicule with grace or I stop being a whore. These are my options.

It’s not even the teasing itself that makes me so irate. It’s the idea that what I do with my own body is even a point of contention in the coalition. I haven’t slept with a single man in Verdance. I didn’t touch them. The worst of it was stupid, pointless flirting.

I see their judgmental glances. It’s not just from people like Ruinali, who I know better than to act in such a manner around. No one said a damn thing to my face, but I know there’s been gossip and rumors and maybe outright lies. I wonder what’s really fueling this backlash. What I’ve actually been doing or what people say I’ve been doing.

But there’s nothing to be done about it now, except change. The world will not bend for me. My position as Baine’s second is on the line, though he has been gracious and lenient in his expectations.

So what’s there to be done?

First, I’ve made my decision, per Rhoeta’s advice. I will fully dedicate myself to Ras. I love him dearly. He treats me kindly, he’s strong, he’s unique in many ways, least of all his insectoid features. He helps me to forget my woes. He could make me a better person.

Second, per Bakari’s and Lock’s counsel, I’ll seek to focus my energies on others rather than myself while on duty. It’s what a second should do. It’s what a good kid should do.

I’ll take a few days to reset in case more shit gets flung. I’m not sure I can handle the fallout of this Skritt poisoning escapade while working through this, as there will likely be fallout.

I’ll speak to Gardener Croga and seek guidance, do some volunteer work. Spend time with Llyr and Ras.

I need to be around people who love me for a little while. I need to start finding a way to like myself again, and right now, Verdance is not the place to find that.

[theonlygardener]

Chronic illness, the nature of abusers, and fever dreams

Today has been a day. This week has been a week. 

I started again playing the game I used to play with my ex. Only I took it too far with the walking/exercise and a cyst in my ovary ruptured and now I have a killer infection. I don’t know if they gave me the right antibiotics, I had to practically beg for antibiotics. I don’t think they knew what they were treating. I’m worried about the infection, it doesn’t feel like it’s getting better and while I’m prone to infections, they usually start clearing up within hours of antibiotics for me. From what I’ve looked up online, solely because the ER doc wasn’t very good at exploring every option and quick to blame my chronic illness and refer me to a gyno. And gynos have always tried to push meds on me that are terrible for treating this illness, from experience, and never really address what I actually go into the office for. I saw that ruptured cysts aren’t supposed to be this painful for this long (going into day three now), and that signs of an infection are life threatening. So honestly the past couple of nights when I’ve gone to bed, I’ve felt like I might not wake up in the morning and made some peace with things on that nightly basis. Even told my niece I loved her out of the blue. Texted a friend I haven’t spoken to in a while. I’ve pretended it was normal behavior before writing this. Because admitting to fear is hard for anyone, especially the chronically and disablingly afraid. But I am legitimately afraid. And legitimately dont asking doctors to address problems. When I’m in this much pain and they want to send me out without more than painkillers without me begging for more - when literally a quick fucking google search illustrates how bad that could be. Like. It’s hard not to throw in the towel. I’m doing my best to wait and see and plan on going to the ER again if I need to. I mean. I don’t have much else for choices.

I’m already a statistic in one way, two ways, maybe three. Maybe a million. Disabled and abuse victim. Autistic and abuse victim. Chronic illness and abuse victim. Disabled and no access to appropriate therapies. Sick and poor. Poor and sick. Mixed and sick and poor. Child of an immigrant and sick and poor and disabled. Child of a veteran and sick and poor and disabled and autistic and abuse victim. What’s one more?

My mom became really abusive today. Had one of those episodes - where she can’t handle her anxiety like an adult and turns and lashes at me. I don’t need to spell it out I know what those look like, we all know what those look like - anger, intimidation, gaslighting. I had my endicrinologist appointment today, and I spent the whole time listening to her bitch and complain about how much of a burden I am, on top of the previous abuse. I told her that she knew how far away it was - shouldn’t come as a surprise. And to solve that issue I’ll just go alone next time. When I’m not high off of my tits from tylenol/codeine for a ruptured ovarian cyst and the resulting infection. I would rather die in a fiery crash than be made to feel like a burden. I’ve proved that multiple times over with the toxic abusive ppl in my life and I’ll prove it again.

Then I had a nap, and I was severely dehydrated from meds/crying/fever. And I had a fever dream that me and my ex were hanging out, kind of like how we used to, but it was different. The atmosphere was different, it was like post-break up, friends but not friends but more than friends? And it was at my dad’s house, a place he never visited me at. Because when we started dating I’d go see him. And then when we picked back up again after I broke up with him the first time, I had my own place. 

In this dream I was like “I’m horny wanna do it?”, like I used to when we were together and I was ovulating. And there was a cute funny moment. But then I was pensive, I saw a bunch of red-flag bible quote things on the tv game system screen saver we were using, and I started asking myself “Do I really want to do this with a man who gave me a concussion? With a man I was never good enough for? Has he really changed? Not the best choice” He saw the change in my attitude (irl something he’d almost never notice), and I told him how I felt. And we went into a long discussion where he told me that he wanted to now, because after living w/ his parents for a while, and then living with a friend, and then dating around, and then seeing that I had left S, he realized how he had it was good and figured I’d changed my mind about being poly in general and wanted him again. And I had to impress on him that me leaving S had nothing to do with him, or with that identity. That dating her wasn’t about not wanting him in the first place. That I didn’t regret leaving either of them, they were both toxic. And I didn’t regret being poly. 

People have irl asked me how it feels to lose both of them, expecting me to say that it was all for nothing. It really wasn’t. I proved that a part of myself - the poly part - is real and valid and something I can act on responsibly. It exposed him for who he was, like something would have eventually. And it’s better sooner, before marriage, than later. And it showed me how being in a wlw relationship can be JUST as toxic as otherwise, something I knew secondhand but had to experience myself. I learned a lot of lessons from it that I wouldn’t ever want to take back. His treatment of me, that’s not my fault. Feeling like it was all for nothing, that would have to go hand in hand with feeling responsible for how he treated me, as if my identity precipitated his abuse, and precipitate the eventual break up, the way he wants me to feel. And I refuse to do that to myself.

And ya know. I know this is a dream state, of him giving me confessions he’d never have the humility to give irl. And at that, that’s not even an apology or a real confession. Because making me feel like��“I figured you learned your lesson and you leaving S was all about me”, that’s the same abusive ego shit recycled. The reason the christian stuff is a huge red flag is because he and his family have always hidden behind that. They’ve always hidden behind that in their faults, and in their privilege. they have no faults because they’re god fearing. They have no privilege - they earned their good luck by going to church every sunday and it’s a reward. And although he never impressed it upon me as much as his family did, there were red flags. Shortly after starting to date me he asked if I’d been with anyone else, which, I know now, that’s a huge no-no because it’s no one’s business or place to comment on. It’s never asked for an innocent reason. But when I said yeah and he asked how many partners and then seemed really disappointed, and then the convo went from that to “I thought you might at least convert for me someday”, I should high tailed it out of there. 

He’s not even in the place irl that he was in the dream though. I know that on a spiritual level. He’s sucking down the worst of the gaslighting and abuse that he himself experienced since birth and he’s calling it better than what he had with me because it’s comfortable and he’s becoming an even worse version of himself than he ever was with me. I could put money on him abusing the next girl from day fucking one, instead of waiting until she’s just so too much herself like he did with me, and then blaming it on “oh it’s my exes fault she made me like this”, if that was a thing people took bets on. 

But I thought, this was the best relationship I’d been in so far and when the best you’re aware of is the best you’ve known, you make the mistake of settling. I settled. I settled for the least worst of what I had experienced, not the best of what I could get. I made excuses for him, my heart was unsettled for a long time. And when I realized he was autistic, that was the excuse I used. I thought autism made him better in that he “didn’t absorb bullshit from his parents”, I was partially wrong. Because it made him appear better in that he probably would have abused me more and put more pressure on me if his autistic traits were different or if he wasn’t autistic at all. But at the end of the day. Me differentiating too much from what he was taught to expect from a wifey - it came out in the end either way. 

I think I had this dream because with the chronic health issues, I feel really alone. And before he was there for me - even in a capacity where he himself was also complaining about my needs sometimes. And being sick with or without my mother’s abuse. I’m left struggling to love myself through it. because of how he gaslighted me. I’m left feeling like I wish I wasn’t alone and had support. Like I used to feel like I had. Because yeah in the end he proved to be complete trash. But he wasn’t as bad as her, as bad as past exes. And I keep having to fight that feeling and insist upon what I deserve for myself. And then, add this bitch of an excuse for a mother to the top of that pile. A woman who kicks you while you’re down because she’s so incapable of handling her own life - and I feel extra alone. And I have to fight for what I deserve even more. 

And I know, I need, want, absolutely deserve, and again need like I need oxygen, to get out. And I need to get out, alone, and stay out, and alone for a good while. Until I heal and learn to love myself. So that whoever I invite in next doesn’t turn into what everyone has turned into so far. 

My mother probably sees today as a win of codependency. It’s no coincidence that she turned into a monster the same day she offered to drive me 45 minutes to a doctor appointment. She thinks she successfully abused and gaslighted me. But I just want out that much more. She asked about my diagnostic appointment and said “what if you have to drive over the highway” and I said “Then I guess I have no choice, and I’ve driven an hour avoiding highways so I’m sure I’ll manage finding a way”. I don’t think she’s ready for me saying “fuck it, I don’t need you that badly. I’ll die first”. But I can’t be in a place where I can’t make progress because I’m constantly at the will and whim of someone who thinks and acts like they can’t live without me, and abuses me in an effort to keep me tethered. I come first. 

One thing I’m learning in her presence, it’s like a re-up of abuse 101. Watching someone scramble to do everything possible to sabotage me. Watching someone try to reinforce my disability and make me afraid. One of the pluses of understanding my disability is that I know where my fear comes from. It doesn’t. and won’t, come from others anymore. Because I don’t allow it to anymore. I haven’t for a long time. I fought my ex when he tried it. And my own fears that come from me - I’m handling them. Because at the end of the day, this bitch has the same disorders I have. The disorders she refuses to admit to and take responsibility for. The difference is she only copes by turning around and abusing her dependents. I refuse to take part in that. I just keep addressing my own shit so I can get out. 

I think me being sick right now. And I mean really painfully sick. I go to sleep at level 9 pain and wake up at level 9 pain and down painkillers every four hours to take the edge off and help the fever. Honestly hopefully tomorrow is at least marginally better so I can depend on tylenol instead because taking stuff this heavy when I’m this emotionally distressed is a recipe for disaster. Anyways I think me being sick right now - she gets off on it with her sick codependency issues. She doesn’t even really support me. Her ego gets something out of it. She’s not really here for me. Doesn’t really care. It’s all always about her. And in the end, I’m still alone. Because being around people who use you - emotionally physically psychologically doesn’t matter which way use is use, that’s the same as if not worse than alone. The void is just.... so much deeper. Wanting someone to be someone to be the loving kind functional person that you deserve and that they aren’t, and watching them actively choose not to be it. That’s a kind of loneliness that 10/10 is always worse than being in solitude. In solitude you have control over every aspect of your surroundings and if you want to have a good day you have a good day, if you want to have a bad day you have a bad day. When you’re around someone this dysfunctional and abusive, you just aren’t allowed that control.

and 10/10 as soon as I get the support or ability, I’m going to be alone, because that’s what I need, on a wholeness level. And she can’t stop me. In fact her behavior encourages me. It doesn’t keep me glued like she wants it too. It does the opposite. Because maybe if she was a supportive loving and not abusive mother, I would have a safe space to recover. Her not giving me that means I need to go out on my own and get it. Nails in the coffin. 

I’ve always dreamed of moving away, changing my name, changing my phone number. I don’t think that plan has changed. And she’ll probably bitch about “how much she helped me and how selfish I am”, but, ya know, that’s what gaslighting abusive bitch mothers do. You don’t get to help someone up, and trip them at the same time, and then pretend that they owe you, or that you did them some great favor. That’s not real help. One step foward and one or two steps backwards - might as well drive myself and panic and be in physical pain through the whole thing. 

So, in essence this has been a terrible week full of a lot of abuse and trauma and panic and pain and fear. But, idk, I guess I’m learning something from it. 

[anderleerose]

I get it.

I never used to get why holiday season is the worst time for people battling with depression. In my life we’ve almost always managed. Last year I ended up at my step mom’s for christmas morning by mistake because she was too scared to drive. I don’t even remember thanks giving. A few years back the big box of ornaments we’ve always had was stolen in a move. And yeah, we’ve never replaced them. Same with the tree, that was in the box too. So for the last 2-3 years we’ve had a charlie brown tree basically. A few ornaments we got at the dollar store and a handful we managed to keep somehow. The tree itself came from my best friend and it’s about two feet tall. I know it’s dumb and superficial but the tree has always been important to me so that’s been upsetting the last few years. 

Holidays have been weird since after my dad passed(Colon cancer in 2016) but we’ve been managing. Mom went into rehab in the summer of 2017 and she’s over a year clean now. But bi-polar and acute psychosis are a nasty pair on their own. Add drug(prescription) and alcohol abuse to that list and you’ve got a mess. She’s been in the psych hospital three time since getting out. The first time was some six months ago. The second was less than a month ago and the last time was for nine days, she got back four ago.  So I’ve been alone, a lot, lately. She left suddenly and I’d already been having a shitty day, got a message that was incomprehensible and then later a call that wasn’t much better. Last time she went in with suicidal thoughts and hallucinations. She seemed better for all of three days. This time there’s been no improvement. She slurs so much and only shares a fifth of what she’s thinking and then doesn’t tell you when she’s jumping to the next conversation. Not to mention her serious memory issues. It’s just my mom and I. And things have gotten really bad. We get a thousand dollars a month from the government in disability and death benifits but for the last four months we’ve only gotten our food stamps. We’re on section eight and we still can’t afford to live here.

 For the majority of my actual childhood(I’m 18 now) we’ve lived in transitional homes. For a few short occasions we were flat out homeless, and once or twice we lived with her partners. Once with her drug dealer who was neglectful to me and I wasn’t fed unless mom was home. But we’re sort of on our own now. Her bridges were burned when she went to rehab. Her parents are abusive and with just as many mental issues. And things aren’t getting better. Part of the reason we aren’t getting enough income to keep floating right now is because of my attendance. School has never worked for me, I’m dumb, I’m aware of this and I get so sick of people telling me I’m not. I can never get myself to go because I’m either sick or just too fucking tired to get out of bed. So I’ve gone two days in the past three weeks. That’s it. Two days. Mom has a job, sort of, she works weekends as a doordash deliverer with her friend who has a car(we don’t) but she’s constantly missing because either her or that friend are just ‘not up to it today’ My grandparents(from my dad’s side) Gave us a thousand to at least get out of debt and that was only last month.

I’m already sort of estranged from them because I don’t know how to talk to them. Mom accidentally let it slip and they know I’m trans. My grandpa ignored it(It’s what he does best when he’s not shouting_ and my grandma told her they still accept me and that was around the same time they gave us the thousand and I still haven’t called them because I don’t know how to talk to them. Everything is falling apart, and usually people like to think of the good ole days but I don’t have those. There’s always been a problem. I’m already brushing over some much traumatic bullshit. Rape, verbal abuse, so much shit had come from the situations I was put in growing up that school just feels so pointless. I want to get a job to make things better but I already know I can’t handle both. 

I want to drop out, try later, get a job somewhere close by for now and just fucking pray that does anything good but I’m scared I’ll never get an education period. There’s a lot of pressure on that. My dad was a genius. The real sort, wrote scary realistic sci-fi and knew what he was talking about. My little sister is just as smart, she’s only eleven now and she reads at a senior level, she’s been able to build(With minor instructions) computer circuts since she was about eight. She’s so much fucking smarter and I don’t even understand simple math. Intelligence and kindness was all that mattered to my dad, he’d always been so fucking disappointed when I showed him an F grade, and another and another because no, it never got better. Everything has been permanently falling apart and it feels like it’s all on my shoulders now. My mom’s only fifty and because of how fucked up she is she’s essentially senile. 

I was never taught a damn thing about how to take care of myself so my teeth are falling out. Literally falling out. And we can’t even go to the dentist because there’s too much on our plates. She handles all the medical stuff and I don’t know how to step in even though my pills have been wrong every time she’s filled them for the last few months. I haven’t taken any of my medications in a week because now she can’t even find what happened to the prescriptions. The only shit I’ve got going for me is some minor writing and drawing skills but I never have the motivation anymore. And now with the holiday season, all these ads showing up everywhere I look, everyone talking about plans. All I can think is how I already skipped over Halloween this year(Even though my best friend have always done it together since middle school) because I just couldn’t do it. There’s food in the house but barely, I’m well aware it’s gonna run out soon like it always does so I often choose not to eat. That’s a habit I’ve had since we first applied for section eight. I’m diabetic, you’re not supposed to not eat. But I can’t get myself to eat anything when it feels like there’s nothing there. 

And I just keep thinking there’s no way we’re doing anything for thanksgiving this year. The school sent home with me some giftcards to get stuff but I know it’s never going to be enough. And then christmas is just around the corner. I get it now, the reason it’s so miserable is because all those ads do is serve as a painful fucking reminder of everything you don’t have. And it’s shoved in your face with people laughing and saying “but it’s chrismas, don’t be a grouch!” but that just makes it worse because now you’re not allowed to be upset. And it’s the worst possible time to not be. I keep losing my train of thought while writing this because there’s so much going on. And that adult abuse services or whatever it’s called(Essentially CPS) has now been called on my mom and we’re 95% sure it was her old best friend who is an absolute monster to her kids and has been screwing with our lives for months. The worst part is I’m pretty sure we’re going to be separated because things are BAD. And I feel so fucking selfish because for the most part I’ve stopped caring. And lately my mind has just been so nasty to me. People dropping off after saying they’re there for me, a friend I’d considered truly close telling me I’m bad for his mental health, an emotional burden, and that we were never friends. Penny(My only constant boyfriend for the last few months. I’m poly-amorous, not a cheat) never has the time of day for me, even when I’m telling him about all the crap going on. I haven’t been to counselling in over a month because I’m terrified to use ‘safe transportation’ like we used to. They leave you there for hours and there’s no better option so they just can. All of that isn’t helping, obviously. 

I don’t know if I’d call this a cry for help or some bullshit, really I don’t think anyone’s going to fucking see this anyways and if they do who the fuck even knows if anyone goddamn believes me because I’m eighteen and there’s noooooo reason to have any strife at that age. Bullshit. I’ve always had issues with being talked down to or being told ‘oh but there’s always someone who has it worse’ is that meant to make me feel better? I already constantly tell myself my problems are stupid and no one cares. I’m sick and tired of people pretending to care too. No, you don’t, none of you fucking do. The teacher’s only care about my attendance and I’m tired of them pretending that it’s anything more than that.  

I’d just like to finish this by saying I’m not suicidal. I’ve never been suicidal but I just want to disappear right now. Don’t want to live in fucking reality.There’s honestly still so fucking much more to talk about but I’m done. The worst part is knowing nobody’s going to read this just feels fucking worse. There’s my dumb rant that no one’s going to bother reading and if you do sorry for bringing you down. So yeah, I get it now. the holiday’s are the worst times to be alive.