#adderall is not meth for fucks sake

[inbabylontheywept]

Adderall, and the Gospel of Dose and Dose Rate.

So, I have seen a lot of posts in my life about how Adderall is KINDA like meth, but it has X, Y, Z, key differences that make it act chemically different so it's safe. And I hate these posts because it is safe, and I took (prescribed) Adderall something like eight years, but the difference between Adderall and meth isn't some structural thing, or a chemical thing, it's two big things, and a little thing. "The Big Things" are Dose and Dose Rate. "The Little Thing" is just addiction risk for a given population.

So, lets just kill The Little Thing while we're here. Yes, people with ADHD are more likely to experience an addiction in their life - something like 30% more likely. This risk makes people nervous about giving people with ADHD possibly addictive substances. However, there should be a strong exception made for ADHD medications because people with ADHD who are on medication become something like 30% less likely to develop addictions. There are two key points in this. First, people with ADHD are way less likely to get addicted to amphetamines than the general population. The reason for this is obvious: They affect us very differently. If there was a drug that made you feel really compelled clean dishes, vacuum, and study, you might take it every once in a while, but you wouldn't want to take it every day. And while most people experience amphetamines as The Drug That Makes You Confident And Energetic And Horny, we experience it as The Drug That Makes You Do Chores, so it's not very alluring to us. Hence, they aren't at risk of addiction from that specific drug. Second, when people with ADHD are on their medications, they are markedly less impulsive than the standard population. Hence, their flat addiction risk decreases. "The Big Things", the real meat and potatoes of what sets prescription Adderall apart from meth, are the dose and the dose rate. Regarding dose, a normal prescription for Adderall is around 15-25 mg a day. A normal amount of consumption for a recreational amphetamine user is 300-800 mg a day. I cannot overemphasize just how obvious this makes the difference to me. One dose of OxyContin after a wisdom tooth extraction would make the pain a lot more bearable. Twenty all at once would probably be lethal. One dose of Ibuprofen will make your headache better. Twenty will cause some kind of permanent organ damage. One shot is enough to party, but twenty has a greater than fifty percent chance of killing you. A Civil War surgeon would not give you twenty shots before trying to saw your leg off, because at that point the drink would be more likely to kill you than the surgery.

And then there is the dose rate. Adderall is designed to hits its peak dose in 1-2 hours after first swallowing. It's split into 4 different types of amphetamine salts specifically to break the peak up into four small ones. Meth, when inhaled, has one peak that occurs about five minutes in. So you're looking about getting 12-36 times the dose, absorbed something like 48-192 times as quickly. That's it. That's the difference. There's nothing more that could be said about it than that. The chemical changes are only relevant in the sense that the affect how fast the chemical can be absorbed, and the doses just are what they are. Dose and dose rate. Everything else is just jargon.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

 If you really want, I will confirm in your direct messages who I am but when my psychiatrist put me on Adderall and Wellbutrin at the same time!!! Shit was dope. I could totally see Stede like fucking ending up on that drug cocktail. I had Zero appetite! I barely slept! I was hot and sexy and manic! Shit rocked! (I got pulled off it when I wasn’t losing enough weight fast enough to make the risk of heart issues worth it…)

Ok drug experience talk sure. So I just need you to clarify some things for me, babe. You weren't loosing weight fast enough? Your doctor put you on the closest thing you can get to meth without getting arrested for WEIGHT LOSS?

The medical malpractice.

Followup question are you the Stede adderall anon who messaged @ourflagmeansgayrights a bit ago? It's ok if you are I won't judge u

Follow up follow up, do you have ADHD, because if you don't I think someone might need to come get your doctor. If you do somebody still needs to come get your doctor but it's worse if you don't since ADHD gives you a bit of stimulant resistance.

You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell me I'm just fascinated.

I'm ignoring the Stede headcanon not because I don't want to say something but because I said I would no longer be responding to meth blorbo anons for the sake of my blog

[copperbadge]

Hi! I suspect this question may sound sarcastic or asshole-ish, but I promise it's sincere. And I realize that you're not a doctor, so feel free to ignore or tell me to DMOR, but you seem to have looked into this pretty extensively, so I thought you might have some thoughts. If you take ADHD meds and they work (that is, you don't feel any different but you can actually Do Things, which maybe gives you really positive feelings, which is not how you usually feel about yourself), how do you know that it's actually ADHD and not that normally you're just lazy, but now you took meth and you're hyper and euphoric or whatever it is that it does to non-ADHD people? Asking for a friend.

I...hm, layers to this one. First, thank you for offering a tone note because on the one hand, without it I definitely would have felt a bit hostile, but on the other hand it's very difficult to ask a question like this without sounding like you're trying to get a rise, when you really are just trying to get information. I'd struggle with that too. So thank you! I believe you are in earnest :)

I'm going to try to dig through this by levels rather than go through the question chronologically, that might cause the least amount of confusion and crosstalk. This is going to get long and quite rough and I’m going to address a lot of tender subjects including drug use, addiction, and self-esteem issues, so please read with care for yourselves. 

(I’ve tried to add in bolded topic headers so if you have ADHD and get bored of reading about one thing you can skip to the next!) 

So to start with -- and this isn’t particularly satisfying as an answer, but well...I know I have ADHD because I’ve been evaluated for it, twice now, and the doctors said I did. 

I fit a lot of the classic symptoms on the usual checklists, and while I’m smart enough to game those checklists, I tried to answer as honestly as I could. I wasn’t especially interested in getting Adderall for its intoxicant properties, since I’ve got plenty of access to other, arguably much easier to obtain intoxicants. I also, because I know myself to be someone who enjoys gaming tests for the game’s sake, made sure that at least one of the evaluations had cognitive tests that were harder to fuck with, like tangrams and memory tests and such. On the very top level, I know I’m medicating my ADHD because the tests say I have ADHD. 

But say we don’t trust the tests, or say I’m not as honest as I claim. On the next level down, but still quite near the surface, let's talk about "how do you know you're medicated and not high?" 

I've been in several kinds of altered state -- concussed, runner's high, stoned on weed or opiates, drunk -- and very occasionally I’ve been around people on coke or meth, though I’ve never done those myself. It's usually not difficult to tell that you are not functional on a normal level. It's difficult to describe how to someone who hasn’t experienced it, but for me being in an altered state like that is very evident. The first time I got a runner's high I was absolutely terrified because I knew something was wrong with me cognitively, but not why it had happened. When I woke up concussed, I knew immediately that something was wrong, but it was all I could do to get dressed and go across the street to a clinic, I was so fucked up. If you’re in an altered state and suddenly need to do something complicated, you're aware you would very much like not to be in that state anymore.

I've described Adderall as being like the most functional high you've ever had, but there are differences. If I've had, say, a weed edible, I feel calmer and happier and I'm also aware I'm stupid. I'm impaired and I can tell that. If I've taken an Adderall, I feel calmer and happier but not nearly to the same level, and there's no impairment to my intellect. Part of the calm is that if I think of something I need to do, I can immediately get up and do it, competently -- or I can decide not to. I control my impulses and actions. With street meth -- which I should note is much, much more potent than a low-dose Adderall -- compulsive behavior and lack of control are much more evident. Even if you are getting a lot done while on meth, you’re not necessarily in control of what, or how many times you have to do it to get it right. I'm told this is also often how people who don't have ADHD react to Adderall -- they’re not efficient as much as they are manic, particularly at stronger doses, which is why a) a good test of “do I have ADHD” is “How do I react to Adderall” and b) they start you on a super low dose.

When my psychiatrist and I meet to discuss how the medication is going, he asks me stuff like, do you feel you're in control of yourself? Are you having hallucinations? Do you find yourself craving a dose even when you know it would be detrimental? Do you feel your performance at work has improved, remained the same, or fallen? Do you find yourself able to focus but not able to control what you focus on?

On Adderall I do feel like I'm in control of myself, I do better work, and while I'm still learning to aim that focus, I am capable of doing so. I don't take it after 1pm because I know that'll fuck up my sleep schedule, and truthfully I don't want to. The one time I’ve taken Adderall after 3pm was because I was going to an art museum and I wanted to see how that would alter my experience, being able to focus more fully on the art and the person I was going with. And while I did have a great time, I wouldn’t make a habit of either taking the drug late in the day or taking it purely so I could have An Experience while on it. It’s fine, it’s fun, but it’s not so much fun I’m willing to mess with my sleep over it. 

I also have zero desire to drink (for the best, given alcohol and stimulants are a no-no) and a much decreased desire to get high. I don't need to self-medicate because I am actually medicated. I wasn't doing a shitload of self-medication before, but I was undoubtedly doing some, and more during the pandemic, and I can see how it would have become unhealthy had I continued. Do I still occasionally take an edible in the evening to unwind? Yes. Do I do it at the level I was doing it earlier this year? Fuck no. And I take half the amount I used to when I do, making sure I’m doing it well after any Adderall has worn off.

The question of "medicated or high" can still be a little difficult. What I said above is also what a lot of addicts say. They believe they are in control, they are better when they're on their intoxicant of choice, etc etc. "I can stop anytime I want" is like, the number one way to quietly tell someone that you, in fact, can't. Addiction's simplest definition is "loss of control over behavior" and addicts will do a lot to convince you that they haven't lost control over their behavior. (For more on this, Caustic Soda has a great episode about addiction in which Dr. Rob discusses how addiction and physical dependence differ.) All I can really say in response to this is that Adderall improves my quality of life in ways external to my emotional state -- yes, it helps emotionally, but that’s small potatoes compared to say, weed or opioids (opioids -- now there’s a drug I could get into trouble over) and weed’s way easier to get these days than Adderall. Weed does not, however, help me cook healthful meals and clean the bathroom. Adderall does.

So let's talk about the deepest part of this -- "How do you know you're not just lazy?"

Increasingly we are coming to an understanding of human behavior that informs us that laziness doesn't exist. What we think of as laziness can be caused by a number of factors: failure of executive function, fear of failure, exhaustion, avoidance of the unpleasant. Humans want to experience pleasure, it's a fairly strong primal drive, and we do not experience pleasure purely through inaction. If you should be doing something but aren't, that's not pleasurable, it’s stressful and boring. Lots of people will tell you “I fucking love to sleep, sleep is the best thing” and I’m sure they truly feel that way, but it’s not because they’re lazy, it’s because they have a sleep debt they’re banking against or paying back. There’s a lot of debate about laziness right now, but even as I refer to myself as one of the laziest people on the planet, I know laziness doesn’t exist in the way we conceive of it. When I call myself lazy, I’m using it as shorthand to say “I will find the most low-energy way to achieve something.” Because I am tired, because I have ADHD. (And also because I’m not twenty anymore.)

With exquisite timing, @thebibliosphere has very recently written an essay on this situation called “But You’re So Successful Without It”. Joy can’t take any of the medications available for ADHD, and the essay talks about what it feels like to have ADHD and to burn out because of it, which is where I was about to hit earlier this year. There is no way to call Joy lazy and absolutely no way to hear what she has to say and think that she would choose to go through what she has if she had an alternative. Nobody with any compassion would force her to. 

And here’s how I know I am not actually lazy: like Joy, I want to be doing the thing. If I need to do dishes and laundry so I’m not eating with my hands and wearing smelly clothing, but I’m not doing them, that’s not laziness. I know that my life is less pleasurable, indeed very unpleasant, if I don’t do those things. If I’m still incapable of doing them, it’s not because I Don’t Wanna. It’s because I am too tired, because I don’t feel like I can deal with unpleasant sensations on top of forcing myself to do something, or because my executive function isn’t functioning. If you aren’t doing something you should be doing, there’s usually a reason beyond “I’m just lazy” and it’s helpful, in breaking out of the mindset of “I’m a lazy (and therefore bad) person”, to ask yourself why. 

If there’s a reason you’re not doing it, even if that reason is simply “I’m so tired”, then you’re not lazy. You’re tired. If it’s because it’s unpleasant, then you’re not lazy, you’re avoiding pain. If you want to and just simply can’t, you’re dealing with a loss of executive function. 

Sometimes there are nonmedical workarounds. I wear gloves to do the dishes, I bought a cordless stick vac so my back wouldn’t hurt because I was constantly holding the vacuum cord in one hand, I blast podcasts when I’m doing something boring so my mind is elsewhere. I used to run at 3am because at any other time I was too fucking tired and I hate being out in public around strangers.

But, well, the best workaround for wonky executive function for me is Adderall. It’s not for everyone, it’s not an option for some, but for me it is one more tool -- admittedly a pretty spectacular one -- to manage a difficult life. 

All that said, the idea of being a Bad Person for Not Doing A Thing is a knot that it takes a long time to unpick. It is very freeing, and certainly less stressful, to both acknowledge that some things are beyond us, and receive help that brings them back into the realm of our ability to do. But it’s a process, and nobody can hustle anyone down that path faster than they are capable of going. So, all I can do is offer my personal experience. 

Even if this shit does kill me eventually, I’d rather have thirty more years where I am the person I’ve been in the last two months, than have fifty more years where I am the person I was in 2021. And even if I eventually have to go off it, what I’ve learned will help me not to hurt myself for something beyond my control. 

[captainmarvels]

wicked games [23]

Summary: Tom's past has finally caught up to him; but will it be the be-all and end-all of his life?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment (just the words, but still warning in case)

Word Count: 2734

A/N: today is Dec. 10th which means it’s been 2 whole years since I first started writing wicked games! I want to say thank you so so so so much for reading, enjoying, and loving this story as much as I love writing it - all the excitement and love some of you have given me, chapter after chapter, has made me stick around for the long run! xx caro

masterlist | tag list - add yourself!

You know that sinking feeling - the one that roots itself in the pit of your stomach like a tree, immovable? The feeling that drowns every nerve ending in your body in anxiety? Worry? Fear?

That was all Tom could feel as goosebumps spread along his arms, a cold sheen of sweat appearing across his forehead.

“Toyko? For a whole year?” His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his skull from the building stress.

Dom nodded, a smug grin replacing the eerie smile he donned before.

“You and Harrison used to go on and on about the Asian market this, the Asian market that, and I figured that the fifth year anniversary of your company was as good a time as any to start up a new headquarters abroad,”

“How can you expect me to just up and leave for an entire year?” Tom asked, no longer hiding the shock on his face.

Dom shrugged. “Easy. You just do it, Thomas. You’re the CEO, for God’s sake! How can you expect to run a company of this magnitude well if all you do is sit on your lazy arse!”

Tom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as Dom continued.

“I’m handing you the chance to expand and grow your company in a new direction, on a silver fuckin’ platter, and all you do is complain. I don’t understand how children can be so ungrateful,”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I am an adult, who is fully capable of making decisions for my company-”

“Is that so, Tom? Are you fully capable of handling the blow back from the media, your partners, the entire fucking world if they knew what you’ve done behind closed doors? Don’t think I’m ignorant enough to not know when my own blood is a drunken coke addict.”

The deafening silence seemed to swallow Dom’s words, yet they still rang clear as day in Tom’s ears.

Taking a deep breath, Dom set down another folder on Tom’s desk, and headed straight for the door before stopping, his hand gripping the handle tightly.

“Your flight leaves the 4th, at 11am. Don’t be late.”

“I’m gonna need you to repeat yourself, mate. Your dad knows?”

Harrison was pacing the floor of his apartment living room, hands fussing with the mess of curls on his head.

Tom sat on the sofa, eyes shut tightly as he replayed the conversation with his father in his mind.

“Oi, if he knows about the coke, then he has to know it was me, right? Why’d I have to be your goddamn drug dealer, Holland?”

“I don’t fucking know, alright? I didn’t think he’d ever find out about the coke, but if he knows about that, he’s got to know about all the other shit I’ve done,”

“You haven’t done meth, have you?”

Tom looked up at Harrison, his glare more than enough to shut up his best friend.

“Look. He knows about the coke; doesn’t mean he knows it was from you,”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “I was practically your only friend at Stanford, you idiot!” He scoffed.

“Fuck off, Haz! Listen to me - Dom’s a fucking prick, but I’m used to the threats. He’s nothing more than talk, alright? If he did anything to me, it’d taint the whole family name, and that’s not what he wants. He’d die before he lets anyone, even me, ruin the family legacy he’s spent years building.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, silently counting his breaths as Harrison resumed his pacing.

“Have you told…” 

Tom shook his head. “I haven’t even gone home yet. I came straight here, I had to sort out my thoughts and everything,”

Harrison dropped down on the couch next to Tom, and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You are gonna tell her, yeah?”

“I promised her no more secrets, mate. Besides… it’s hard to hide the fact that I'll be gone for a year.” Tom leaned back, eyes fluttering shut once again as he tried to steady his racing heart.

“And the drugs? Does she know about all that?”

Tom’s silence was enough of a response for Harrison.

“You said no more secrets, right? This will come back and bite you in the ass, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But I can’t just go dumping every one of my fucking problems on her, Haz. Everything with my dad is already too much for even me to handle - I can’t expect her to handle all this right off the bat. I need to focus on her and what we have - I just got her back.”

“You have a point. You’re really gonna do this, then? Leave for a whole year?” Harrison could feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes.

Opening his eyes, Tom glanced over at him. “There’s not much else I can do, can I? He’s already signed the lease for the apartment, and the check for the office space is waiting for my signature. There’s over three dozen resumes sitting on my desk, and I have to interview candidates as soon as I get off the plane.” With every word that rolled off his tongue, Tom could feel his anxiety spiking. He really was trapped.

“Tough shit, mate.” As they locked eyes with one another, neither could stop from breaking out in laughter. Tom shoved Harrison off the couch, only to receive a kick to the shoulder. 

“You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Bring it on!”

When Tom asked you to take a seat, you could feel your heart folding over itself as it began to brave for the worst.

Harrison sat next to you on the sofa, with (what was supposed to be) an encouraging arm wrapped around your shoulders, but it only brought more anxiety and tension.

What was going on?

Tom was pacing back and forth, his hands buried in the pockets of his suit.

“Should I be concerned?” You whispered in Harrison’s ear. He shook his head no, never taking his eyes off of Tom.

“My bastard of a father wants me to go to Tokyo for a year - for the sake of the company, or so he says.” Tom stopped in front of the tv, one hand on his hip, and the other on the back of his neck.

Oh. An all too familiar sinking feeling appeared, replacing the anxiety that had begun to consume you.

“He’s already got an apartment for me, and a deal’s been negotiated for office space in one of the best locations in the city - all that’s left for me to do is sign the check.”

You sat up, resting your chin on your hands as you repeated Tom’s words over. He could see the gears turning in your mind, and he wasn’t too sure if that was a good sign.

“He doesn’t do this sort of thing often, does he?” You aired the question for both of them, but clearly it took them aback.

“What do you mean by that?” Harrison asked, brows furrowed. Tom met your gaze and nodded.

“From what I know and have heard, seen, and whatnot - Dom really doesn’t seem to stick his nose in company affairs most of the time. Only when he needs something, in some sort of capacity. For example - why did he give you the money to start the company in the first place? What motivated him to sign a check for over $4 million to his inexperienced - sorry! - son?” 

Locking eyes with one another, Tom and Harrison seemed to share the same memory at that exact moment.

It was three in the morning when Dom got the call from Tom’s bodyguard.

“You’ll need to be present if you want him out on bail.” He heard over the phone.

“Is that Osterfield boy with him?” He asked, still groggy.

“Yes, but he was not arrested. He tried to stop him and-”

“Enough. Tell him to go home. Tom can sit in jail for a few more hours. Let them know I’ll be there with the cash before 8.”

 The entire car ride back to his apartment, Tom couldn’t stop fidgeting.

He fucked up. Worse than any other time, and he knew this was going to cost him.

Recognizing the iron-wrought gates of the family estate, Tom glanced over at Dom.

“Your mother is in London with the twins. We need to talk, and I’m not setting foot in the dungeon you call an apartment.”

As the SUV came to a rolling stop outside the front door, Tom bit down on his tongue.

Every time he did something wrong - arrested for possession of marijuana, Adderall, coke; quite possibly every drug imaginable- or caused a scene at some fancy nightclub, Dom was there to break his fall. 

That break always came with a price.

Sometimes the price was as simple as losing a percentage of his trust fund money. That didn’t bother him as much, considering $75,000 was mere change in his pocket. Other times, however, the price was a gamble. Like the time his father had to pay off a landlord so he wouldn’t break the lease after Tom and Harrison completely wrecked the vacation house they had been renting.

Tom wasn’t sure what this would cost him this time around.

They had barely entered the mansion foyer when Dom turned on his heel, and locked eyes with his son.

“You’ve been 21 for less than six months, and yet you’ve managed to put yourself through the goddamn ringer almost every week since then. Do you even care about your fucking reputation anymore, Thomas? Or any idea what this could do to the company?”

Fuck. The company.

The night of his 21st birthday, his father had signed him the coveted check for well over four million dollars - a check that wouldn’t be deposited in his account until he proved to Dom that he could get his shit together, put on a suit, and take on the role of CEO. 

As his father had put it - Tom had had his fun, but as his undergraduate career came to an end, he needed to start focusing on making a name for himself; getting a seat at the table that was his birthright. 

A start-up was just what he needed to set himself straight.

The project was well underway - it had made headlines the day Dom purchased the most lavish office space New York City had to offer. The plan was simple - have the company up and running smoothly by the time Tom graduated, so he could slip on the CEO suit and take over.

But nothing was ever simple when it came to Tom.

He had fought for hours with his father before they finally settled on an agreement for the money that night - only for Dom to turn around and slap him with a hold on the funds.

And here he was, rubbing it in once again.

“Are you listening? Graduation is months away, and yet here I am, bailing you out of jail for being a pathetic son of a bitch.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Tom spat, anger flooding every inch of his body. He won’t get away with this.

“I don’t even know anymore, Thomas.” His father sighed. “But this I know for sure; you fuck up like this again, and you can kiss the company and your trust fund goodbye.”

Tom’s jaw dropped, eyes threatening to pop out of his head from the utter disbelief.

“No you- you can’t fucking do that!”

“I can, and I will. I listed the company under the living trust, with the conditions we agreed upon the night of your birthday. If I deem it necessary, everything in the trust will be seized. You will have nothing if you don’t get your act together.”

“Is the company still part of the trust?” Your mind was trying to process everything Harrison and Tom had just laid out for you, but that was the one piece of information that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Harrison looked at Tom. Tom bit his lip.

“If the company is still listed in the trust, mate -”

“That means your father still has control over it-”

“He can just do whatever he wants, can’t he?” Tom fell to his knees, brushing off the agonizing pain in his bones as you came to him, your arms enveloping him completely.

Harrison felt a familiar sting in the corner of his eye as he walked over to his best friend and crouched down by his side.

“We’ve got you, mate.”

Once you were able to finally calm Tom down, you discussed in detail exactly what the plan was going to be. Even if it wasn’t what any of you wanted. 

Tom decided he would agree to Tokyo if, and only if, he was able to bring his two best assets - you and Harrison. He planned to go to the office early Monday morning to call Dom and see if he could convince him.

It was the best you could all come up with.

Sunday morning, you remembered you’d forgotten a stack of letters at the office, which you needed to sign so they could be mailed out first thing Monday morning. With Tom at a conference upstate, you ended up having to head into the office by yourself.

When the elevator bell rang at the top floor, you were surprised to see the lights were already on in the waiting area.

Who else is here?

Making a sharp left turn at the end of the hall, you decided to move as quickly as possible - the motion sensor lights only lasted 10 minutes, so whoever set them off was still in the office, somewhere.

You spotted the stack of letters on your desk, and working diligently, got them all put away nice and neat in your briefcase. 

A soft knock on your door nearly gave you a heart attack.

Dropping the case to the ground, you look up and lock eyes with the last person you ever expected to cross paths with.

“I hope you don’t have the company’s secrets tucked away in there, dear.”

Dom was looming in the doorway, his smile wavering as you just stared at one another.

Why the fuck was he there?

“I seem to have startled you, and I’m quite sorry about that - I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here on such a nice day,” He was a boulder blocking your path of escape, and your growing anxiety was making your skin crawl. 

“I don’t know- I don’t know how I got to be so distracted, but I forgot these- these, um-” You picked up the briefcase, dropping your gaze from Dom as you ran the palm of your hand over the soft leather. “I have to get these letters signed so they can be sent out first thing in the morning.”

“Signing letters? Seems like such a clerical task for a woman in your position,” He took a step forward, and you stepped back, your hip hitting the side of your desk.

“I uh, wouldn’t really say that-” Tripping over your words, Dom could see you were on edge.

“No? Then what exactly does my son have you work on here? When you’re not busy attending to his… other needs.”

You almost choked on your spit as you looked at Tom’s father in disbelief. Does he… know?

“You see, darling,” Dom took another step forward, and you found yourself pressed against the window, struggling to keep your balance. “As a father… well, parents are always fussing over their children, aren’t they? I’m worried about Tom, and I know you probably know him better than I, and, well. I need to ask a favor of you.”

The look on his face was something that would haunt you forever.

His index finger was tracing the photograph frame on your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Without another word, he pulled out a folded up piece of paper, and held it out to you. Encouraging you with a nod of his head, you grabbed the sheet, and unfolded it, your eyes scanning over its entirety while an uncomfortable sense of nausea filled your stomach.

New York Police Department

34th District

Report

Scrawled in blue ink were the words that would leave anyone distressed. 

Sexual Harassment. 

tags - part one:

@cherrynat @anytimebitches  @jobean12-blog @emotchalla @enigma-xlii @illletitgrow @cloverrover @justaveryobsessedfangirl @ssweet-empowerment @killmongerdreams @spideytrxsh @eyestheyseeyou @aussie-mantle @spidergirlwanab @i-think-i-am-adorable @amanda51015-blog​ @princessskylarsblog​ @whoneedsalifeanyhowxx​ @chinalois​ @clairesrainbow @darkerthanspace​ @slighttinsomniac​ @curlytomholland​ @wanderlustomaha​ @hollandazing​ @mendes-marvel​ @wowspideyholland​ @joshuatparker​

[sugarcult]

Kiwi Lyric Interpretation #1 (Literal Interpretation)

This is the second installation of my Kiwi Lyric/Video Analysis series. There will be three parts, the third being a metaphorical interpretation. For the sake of not clogging up your dash, the rest is under the cut.

She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes / Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect

She probably comes from a rough part of town. Nobody these days really starts smoking just for the fuck of it unless they face abnormal societal pressure to do so. They’re cheap, so she probably works a lower class job and smokes them specifically to get a nicotine fix rather than for social reasons, at this point. Chain-smoking? Probably. She’s smart, strikingly so, and probably a little bit devious. Hard liquor. She doesn’t fuck around.

And all the boys, they were saying they were into it

Either the boys (in the band) or all the boys (in the immediate vicinity, I assume) are “into it” meaning they’re either into her or the lifestyle. Lifestyle doesn’t make much sense, considering they could have much better than that lifestyle with much better ways to cure the itch for a habit.

Such a pretty face on a pretty neck

Oh, look, it was her! Guess what, she’s hot. Even her neck is hot. Wow.

She’s driving me crazy, but I’m into it, but I’m into it

She fucks with his head, but it’s lit because she’s got that sex appeal.

I’m kinda into it

She might fuck with his head a little too much. But like… it’s aight. Apparently. Maybe. He knows better, but. She seems pretty fucking exciting, amiright?

It’s getting crazy

Wow, I love partying. Partying is great. Clubs, bitches, hoorah. But this girl isn’t a bitch, she’s in control, isn’t she? She’s the one make the decisions and setting the rules. “It’s getting crazy” implies a certain distance from the narrator, as if he’s not the one making things happen this way, as if the events are simply happening to him.

I think I’m losing it, I think I’m losing it

So it becomes too much, right? He doesn’t have a grasp on reality anymore, she fucks with his head too much and there are probably drugs involved and this entire existence he’s crafted in her company (and apparently maintained long after she’s left) is too overwhelming, and why is he even doing this anymore? Is this even still a thrill?

Oh, I think she said,

He’s hazy, when she comes back to him. He can barely remember the encounter, either from the shock or from the other things in his body inhibiting his senses and memory. He’s really gone off the rails, hasn’t he?

“I’m having your baby

Okay, that’s a pretty big bomb to drop on someone. I’m having your baby. She’s pregnant. It’s definitely his.

It’s none of your business

Alright, alright, this part is interesting. Because, well, it is his business, isn’t it? Especially considering it seems like she’s going to keep it. It’s arguable that not all men should have a right to make the decision whether or not a woman maintains a pregnancy. However, it’s hardly within a woman’s right to birth a child and deny the father even partial custody unless he has something really sinister going on that could endanger the child. Granted what we know about her, she doesn’t exactly seem like she’d be the best mother on the planet, so what is it about him that’s so terrible that her birthing his child is none of his business? It could be a “strong independent woman” thing, like she doesn’t want his help, doesn’t want him in her life. But that’s not the way the law works. Her life may not be his business, but this child certainly is, especially from a legal perspective.

I’m having your baby / It’s none of your, it’s none of your”

This reads like an echo to me, like he really was so out of it when she told him she was pregnant that the words ring in his head, distorted, on a loop.

It’s New York, baby, always jacked up

Okay, so she lives in New York City, where it��s always a party and the city never sleeps. “Always jacked up” certainly sounds like a reference to being high, definitely uppers. Think meth, Adderall/Ritalin, cocaine.

Holland Tunnel for a nose that’s always backed up

Holland Tunnel is a place in New York City that is notorious for drug use. The giant sniff in the background of the song right about here is a nod at cocaine. “For a nose that’s always backed up” is also very specifically about cocaine, and at that, about addiction. It’s not just something she does every now and then, for fun. She has a problem. Is this while she’s pregnant? Your guess is as good as mine.

When she’s alone, she goes home to a cactus

Cacti are generally easy to care for - water them a little bit every once in awhile. One doesn’t have to be home often at all to own cacti that don’t die - she could be gone for days at a time without them being damaged. Additionally, the inclusion of the cactus line goes to show that that is all she comes home to - no family, no pets, no roommate.

In a black dress / She’s such an actress, driving me crazy

So she’s still out in the world trying to seduce. At this point, she’s either not very far along in her pregnancy or she’s not gotten pregnant yet. Since she’s driving him crazy, I’d wager that this is about the way he sees her when he gets to know her a bit better after their initial meeting. “She’s such an actress” is a pretty heavy claim. He’s not even saying, “She’s lying about this one specific thing.” He’s stating that her entire existence is an act, and that she’s not at all who she pretends to be, whether it be that she lies about her name, what she does for a living, etc. or that she pretends to be unaffected by certain things and too cool to deal with others, etc.

Pre-chorus

Chorus

(*screams* La la la la)

The la la la’s seem to be a nod toward Woman, a song widely accepted, specifically in the Larry fandom, to be a declaration of rage and frustration toward his significant other’s beard(s). They don’t appear anywhere else in the album, and in his solo music, he has stayed far away from fillers such as “[I think it went] oh, oh, oh, oh, [I think it went] yeah, yeah, yeah” and any kind of na na na. Given the shriek in the background, it seems to be a touch whimsical, showing just how “crazy” everything has gotten, but I do think the link between the two songs is worth noting.

She sits beside me like a silhouette

She haunts him. Like his own shadow, she’s inescapable. “Like a silhouette” also seems a touch ominous, like maybe she’s not quite welcome anymore. Twice, the color black has been tied to her, which is, symbolically, typically negative. It’s symbolic of darkness, the unknown, sin, etc.

Hard candy dripping on me ‘til my feet are wet

This line has been extremely controversial. First and foremost, I do not condone the use of this line, and I am not apologizing for it. In terms of interpretation of the song, it seems quite obvious - to me - that the woman in this song is not a child. While it’s true that some children and teenagers live alone (as in the case of runaways or children whose parents have passed, who might have been “taken in” by older siblings and put up in their own apartment just to keep them out of their hair), there’s nothing else in this song suggesting she might be a child. Most children have a hard time getting ahold of cigarettes and hard liquor in this day and age unless they’re getting them from their parents, with whom it’s established she does not live (“comes home to a cactus”). Additionally, while not specifically stated, the nuance to this song so far implies that she’s a manipulator and that she’s the one who has been showing him the ropes. This is just not characteristic of a child or a teenager, even those with terrible upbringings and vast amounts of freedom, no matter how deep they are in the rough part of town. Additionally, if it was about a child - I don’t think it is, no matter how poor the choice of words may be - Harry and a team of writers are not stupid enough to self-incriminate in a highly-anticipated song, let alone one they’re angling to make a single. Nobody is going to stand on a platform and say, “Look at me! I’ve been doing despicable things with minors!” The “‘til my feet are wet” part of the line reeks of discomfort, like this thing is just happening, whatever it is, until it’s become a part of him that he never wanted in the first place. This can be gathered by the tone of the song and the context of what he’s undoubtedly feeling toward her at this point in the timeline.

And now she’s all over me

Why is she suddenly all over him? At this point, she has already told him that she’s pregnant with his child and that she doesn’t want him to have anything to do with it. What’s she all over him for? Money? Because it sounds almost predatory, like she’s trying to seduce him back.

It’s like I pay for it, it’s like I pay for it

“It’s like I pay for it” is double-sided. It’s like he’s paying for his actions - getting mixed up with her in the first place when his gut probably told him she was bad news? Additionally, my sister pointed out to me that, in conjunction with the line “And now she’s all over me,” it certainly reads like he’s likening her to a sex worker. Whether she is one or not, there’s a clear tie between her coming onto him sexual and the monetary meaning of the word “pay.” As she lives a less than stellar lifestyle heavy with illegal pastimes, it’s not unlikely that she was meant to be a prostitute in the first place. However, it makes little sense that someone in his position would ever cross paths with a prostitute, considering One Direction has always had consenting-age groupies they could have enlisted, did they feel the need. What’s interesting, additionally, is that he seems so not into it at this stage but it doesn’t appear that he really does push her away. He doesn’t want this anymore, but he’s consumed by her anyway. No matter why she’s coming onto him after she said she didn’t want him around, he’s letting it happen - or rather, it’s happening anyway. This line reads as almost impersonal, like he’s an observer in the events of his own life rather than a participant. This could be a coping mechanism to distance himself from the blame, or he could be accepting that she’ll always be a part of his life now, that he’ll never be rid of her, as it seems, at this point, he wants to be.

I’m gonna pay for this

This is not a light statement. It’s a full-circle moment of understanding that he is the one responsible for his actions and for everything that has happened to him since he met her. He didn’t have to become involved with her. He didn’t have to get her pregnant. He could have fought for custody of his child - honestly, do we even know if she’s still pregnant at this point? He’s accepting responsibility for what he’s done and saying, “This is what I get. Everything that follows this moment is something I deserve.”

Chorus

Something additional to consider is the fact that Harry has been quoted - true or not - on the idea that this song started as an inside joke. Him doing drugs with an addict prostitute and subsequently knocking her up and her saying she doesn’t want him around their child, only to reel him back in when he’s of use to her doesn’t sound like something particularly worth joking about. Actually, most of this sounds a little uncharacteristic of Harry in the first place, or at least the image we’re supposed to buy into. But you know, there is a little story this interpretation does remind me of, and that is going to be the basis of the third part of this analysis, the interpretation that can be gathered by way of metaphor. That one is coming soon.

Questions or comments are encouraged.

[setthejet]

day 236: the elephant in the room

Well, though it may not seem like an accomplishment to some, I have managed to be in the state of Florida for over a week and not put a single substance in my body - no alcohol, no Marijuana, no Crystal Meth, no painkillers, nothing. Again, it probably doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to most people simply because if you’re thinking that then you probably don’t have an addiction quite like that. Mom likes to remind me that everyone has their own addictions, and I’m sure she’s right to a certain degree but someone’s food addiction doesn’t necessarily prompt them to stand on a street corner selling their mind, body, and soul for a minor fix. Just sayin, I guess. But that’s not the point of this blog post, in case you were curious. 

Tomorrow we’re heading up to Milledgeville, GA for a week to spend time with Steve’s family for an early Thanksgiving. I’m a tad bit nervous, only because I’ve met the people who will be spending time with us maybe like once (maybe?) and that was years ago at my parents’ wedding - 2011, to be exact. And that was such a different time in my life, as in I was either on Adderall or drinking insane amounts of alcohol every night. So really it’s like I’m meeting these people for the first time, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious in the slightest. The other night Mom and Steve made sure to give me the run down on everyone, like how to talk to them and what to do, etc. I was like okay I’ve been to family gatherings guys... but thinking about it now, have I? Maybe physically, but not so much emotionally or otherwise. Apparently Grandma Mitchell enjoys seeing my photography, at least that’s what Mom told me anyway. I’m definitely looking forward to getting to know Steve’s parents, especially since besides Grandma Jenkins (God rest her soul) I haven’t really felt like I’ve had grandparents. I know that probably seems like a super shitty thing to say, especially since three of them are still alive but it’s my truth. And I can’t hold it against them, I made the decision to cut off contact with them and only because I’ve come to the conclusion that until they can accept and acknowledge who I am then I don’t need that kind of secrecy in my life. I didn’t spend too much time in the closet, but I struggled for two long awful years trying to discover who David was and it was absolute torture. I like being able to say that I am gay and proud and honest. I don’t even expect them to necessarily like that I’m gay, but just accept it for God’s sake. I will say, though, that I am so incredibly grateful that over the next week I don’t have to have the awkward conversation with anyone where they ask me if I have lots of girlfriends and I just look sideways at Mom like “what the fuck do I do here?” Oh man, that thought just made me giggle out loud a little to be honest. I think that’s only happened like a handful of times in my life but damn were those moments really uncomfortable. Cheers to not having an elephant in the room during this family vacation! 

I’m excited to see my step-brother, and two step-sisters, and niece though. I get along really well with them and we always have a great time shooting the shit. I’ll never ever forget the first time we spent a holiday together... It was Christmas and we were all standing in the kitchen at the house in Tampa - Mom, Steve, me, Grandma Jenkins, Craig, and Caitlyn. Everyone was kind of having their own conversation and jumping around between sentences but of course the room got rather still when Craig asked me if I had ever had Five Guys before. Little did he know that I wasn’t aware of the fact that this was in reference to a burger joint. I just remember freezing with a jaw half-dropped and Caitlyn bursting out in laughter coinciding with tears. I think it took Craig a moment to realize what I was thinking versus what he was asking and it was just really funny and eventually we were all laughing uncontrollably for hours. Actually, I still like to bring it up every now and then just for a good knee-slapper. 

The only part that doesn’t excite me at all about this upcoming week is that we’ve arranged for Gus to be babysat. This will be the first time since we got him that he will not be with any - I repeat, ANY - of us for a whole week. Usually he’s with at least one of us, whether it be me, Mom, or Steve. But without any of us for six and a half days? Holy shit, I’m going to pray for that dog sitter. She’s definitely got her work cut out for her, but apparently according to her profile that Mom came across she stated that she’s a vet (or something of the sort) and experienced dog-trainer, etc. so they actually asked her to pay a little extra so she could spend some time training him over the course of the week. Maybe she can address that puppy teething thing that seems to be never-ending. Tonight when I got home from the meeting, Gus was nestled in his usual spot on the floor all cozy and snuggled up in between the space where both Mom and Steve’s feet were dangling off of the couch. He just looked so cute and peaceful, so I took it upon myself to lay my happy ass down next to him (of course I couldn’t help but to sneak in a few selfies with my little fur baby). When he acknowledged that I was snuggled up against him, he did this cute thing where he rolls over onto his back with his hind legs spread-eagle as his front paws were perched up against his belly and his mouth was wide open, almost resembling that of a shit-eating grin. It was the most adorable thing and I just hugged him and loved on him and scratched his belly. He attempted a snag at my nose rings, but I didn’t take offense to it. He doesn’t know that it hurts to have them tugged at. He just wanted to show me some affection, I’m sure - or at least that’s what I tell myself to help me sleep at night anyway. You know, he can be such a terror and a pain in the ass and a whiny little baby sometimes but I’m not looking forward to being away from him for a whole week. Apparently Steve’s parents are not dog people, so that’s why Gus isn’t permitted to join us in the festivities. The other night, I convinced Mom to let him sleep with me in my bed much like he did when we first got him. He still didn’t want to cuddle up next to me but it was nice sharing the space with him. He found his little spot in the corner of my bed and I laid some pillows around him to give him a little nest to call his own. 

Steve and I made a trip to Best Buy so I’m just relaxing in my cabin enjoying the ambience of my new bluetooth speaker - it lights up in various patterns of an assortment of colors so it’s rather soothing. I definitely got a chill vibe going, between the light from the speaker and the sounds of Snow Patrol and Boyce Avenue emerging from it while I write this. But now it’s almost midnight and I need to be up at 6:00 am since we’re leaving at 8:30 and I was too lazy to pack tonight. So I’m going to call it quits and fall asleep to some TV show on Hulu for some background noise. 

PS I’ve got my sights set on a new MacBook, preferably the 12″ space grey one with 512gb SSD so if anyone reads this and has any insight as to where to find an inexpensive one that would be greatly appreciated! With Black Friday and the holidays approaching quickly, I keep checking retailers and private sellers but expediting this process would be so great. Thanks in advance!

[relatablyinsane-blog]

Quadpolar Part 2!

Just want to let you know that i had instant bloggers remorse after that last post. Welp, I've stepped in it now.

So i totally forgot to mention that I'm adopted (see: Symptoms of ADHD; rushing, inventiveness), pretty important stuff. That means my nice, old fashioned, very old, worked in the post office their whole life parents are not, in fact my real parents. What they did was reach into a barrel of discarded babies and pull out a meth head kid. (Sorry to my biological mom reading this, we have to go in context for a bit). For the sake of sanity my adoptive mom will be Mom and my biological mom will be Mama, although that didn't happen til MUCH later.

I was adopted at birth and told as soon as i was old enough to understand, something i appreciate my adoptive parents for. They never kept secrets from me, made sure i knew what sex was right off the bat, my super paranoid mom even gave me a book CALLED "Child lures" (I'm not kidding this was literally a pedophile's handbook for a seven year old to read, look it up. Fucked up.) But as far as how true it all was, maybe I'll never know.

What I was told by my adoptive mom was that my biological mother was a drug addict with two other kids already (my sister was 4 and my brother was 2). My father, who she was with at the time, was also a drug addict. As the story goes (i still haven't dared to ask), while high on meth one day he beat my baby brother so bad that his ribs and arm were broken and he now has permanent neurological damage. Last i knew my brother had just gotten out of jail and was homeless, so his life hasn't really improved. That was about the time the state of Arkansas decided that my mother, pregnant with me at the time, would no longer have custody of her children and we would all be placed for adoption immediately. My sister and brother, who shared a father that was different from mine, were placed in an orphanage and my Mama chose my adoptive parents to take me from birth. I had no correspondence with her for decades and didn't want to- to me she was a vile, despicable woman like all the drug addicts in the world- but i had mever even met someone on drugs so what did I know? So, born in Arkansas, raised in New Jersey and then....

Fast forward to the good part: the part that sticks my crazy ass in the awful state of Maine. I liked vacationing there, but did i want to move there? Hell no! My one best friend in the world, the boy next door who I'd grown up with and was the same age as, was not coming with us. It was in the middle of nowhere, on the eve of my Fifth grade year. Having skipped a grade, I was only 9 at the time. I distinctly recall my first car ride to the rural beach town, during which I had a small mental break down and screamed "THEY'RE DRIVING TRACTORS ON THE ROAD!!!" because that was just <i>unheard of.</i> The only kid on the street, eventual cheer captain, straight A student and model child was my age but wanted nothing to do with the hyperactive menace next door who came over uninvited and played with the dogs. Yep, that was me. Forcing myself into the company of people who didn't want me around.

And thus I started school at the local K through 8. Wait. K through 8? How many kids went to this school????? Must be like TEN THOUSAND!! Back in Jersey there were 2-3 grade levels to a school, 30 kids to a class and 11 of each grade.That's over 600 kids in just two grades! (And i still had no friends. Sob. Seriously i must have been an awful kid.) You never had the same classmates twice, classes switched every grade. I couldn't imagine how FRIGGEN HUGE a school with every grade in it would be!!

What? What's that. There are HOW MANY kids in my class?

16. And how many in the grade? 16.

....so there's one fifth grade? And how many kids in the school??? ......a little over a hundred.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAA.

At first i was pumped. I get to make friends and stay with them all the way till high school?! YES. Except this was when I remember my life becoming a living hell.

At this point i had been on at least three different medications for ADHD and none of them worked. Ritalin, Concerta, Stratera etc. Apparently i was still as annoying as ever because i remember being tormented relentlessly. Like, relentlessly. When there's only 16 kids in the class and you're the target, there's no escape. The teacher's let it happen. I was called hippopotamus. My lunch got spat in. I was mocked in front of the class. I was called stupid. Everyone would argue about having to sit next to me and i would just sit alone, or if someone did have to sit with me (usually the teacher assigned someone which made it worse) they would push my things off my desk or ask to copy my work once they realized i was almost as smart as the smartest girl in the class.

And i let them. I wanted SO fucking badly to be popular, to have a friend, fucking anything. It always blew up in my face. As soon as i was done being used for answers, a good place in line, a random good pick for a team or something, i was immediately shunned again. I buried myself in my extracurriculars (now it was swim team, violin and piano), joined band, chorus, jazz band, softball and soccer. I told my parents very little unless they were being dragged in for parent teacher conferences about how i was inattentive and always acting out. My grades began to slip because I was starting to learn about depression and constantly forgot to do my homework. My strict as hell parents were making me practice piano and violin for hours a day and my only solace was my meager 30 minutes of Nintendo 64 time per day. At one point my sixth grade teacher (stupid bitch, i hope you enjoy your cancer (sorry, y'all)) told my parents i wasn't as smart as everyone said and i should be held back because she thought i was autistic. I'm a lot of things, but not fucking autistic.

In the summer before seventh grade i finally got a reprieve in the form of my still longest best friend and the miracle drug Adderall. For those who don't know, Adderall is an amphetamine based ADHD medication and widely abused for it's stimulant properties. For anyone with ADHD however, it mellows the shit out of us and makes us super focused. Well, I'm a little allergic to it, so it actually makes me aggressive. On top of that, it makes your appetite nonexistent so, surprisingly, your favorite curvy girl Jay developed an eating disorder. Not on purpose at first. I just wasnt hungry so i didn't eat. I skipped breakfast, skipped lunch, ate the light dinner my parents prepared and went to bed. Hunger was nonexistent. Then one day i woke up and discovered myself at about 135 pounds, i tried on my first pair of short shorts out shopping with my mom. I'll never fucking forget looking in the mirror and saying out loud "Wow... I actually look great in these!" I didn't realize it was the Adderall at the time but I let it get worse. Whenever i did eat off my only light dinner schedule i would make myself throw up. I eventually got down to 117 pounds. My lowest weight. I stayed there for years. Once i had a state ID with me at that weight. Even at 12 i looked emaciated. It was revolting. I kept that ID for awhile to remind myself how awful i looked and to remind me that I look better curvy, but then i got fat and it made me sad. But i digress.

When i got back to school I suddenly gave not a single fuck about anyone picking on me. Adderall made my emotions <i>nonexistent</i>, but my temper started to boil. As a punching bag i was still pretty friendly and docile, like a big dumb dog that comes trotting back for another beating time and time again. Now i was silent and glowery. People took notice, and that's where my first real best friend came in. Let's call her Patti. I will always remember the day it really happened. I was the first person in line for recess, a great honor, but all my classmates were playing the "EW I DON'T WANT TO STAND NEXT TO HER" game. As per usual. I didn't really care. Thank god for drugs amirite? But then one voice rang out above the crowd of heckling...

I'm just kidding, it was more of a frustrated "seriously guys? Grow up." and then there was Patti. Someone who'd never joined in the terrorizing- i didn't and still don't blame anyone who didn't speak up. It would have made them a target too. But why? She was a cheerleader. I don't think anyone disliked her. She wasn't "popular" but she'd been going to this school since kindergarten and knew everyone. I guess I'll never really understand. But she was a lifesaver, even before the depression got really bad. She actually got to know me, the real me, she realized (and helped me realize too) that i was funny, and goofy and smart, and friendly. Eventually, because of her, some of the others started to come around too, but none of them were ever quite as close to me as she was. I thank god for this girl pretty regularly. Not as much as i should lately.

But there was still the matter of the bullies- and of my short fuse. I had my first kiss that year and a few short lived "boyfriends"- all from other schools of course, it would have been an unforgivable taboo to be interested in Jay. But that year was the year i put my foot down. As i mentioned earlier, Adderall had made me apathetic, but also very, very aggressive. The rage built slowly for several months until one fateful day in art class. I can't remember what i was doing to deserve this comment, i genuinely wish i could, but one of my usual enemies decided to say "No wonder your parents didn't want you!"

She was across the table from me and before i knew it i had launched myself across the table and had my hand up around her throat. No squeezing, just pressure. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head and the entire room fucking froze. It was like something out of a movie. That was the first time i ever rage cried. If i ever get angry enough that my eyes start to water, someone's gonna get hurt. We both got sent to the principal, maybe because the sensible art teacher recognized a normally good natured kid snapping. I looked dead into that principal's eyes and told him that I'd had enough. I was tired of being picked on every single day and having nothing done. Teachers watched and let it happen. Some fucking joined in. HE let it happen after i told him time and time again what was going on. I didnt get in trouble. The bullying receded a good amount that day. It didn't stop completely until almost the end of the year.

Through my mother's networking at church i had become friends with one of the most popular girls at a neighboring school- a gorgeous russian adopted girl with a thick accent and a very early onset sex drive. Yikes. In turn, she introduced me to her brother, who i began "dating" for several months. By "dating" i mean we held hands and made out under the bleachers at YMCA dances and he tried to get me to give him a blowjob at my 12th birthday party. Jesus yikes. Needless to say that relationship didn't last long but I'd suddenly earned a reputation of someone who was- dare i say it- close to popular?

Then there was the summer of 2004. The best few months of my life. Patti and i were inseperable, we rode our bikes around the town every day, snuck into the state park, ate ice cream at the little trailer shop nearby, stayed up all night then nodded off through church the next day. And we dreamed. Oh sweet jesus did we dream about getting as far away from our shitty little town as possible and never coming back. I had honestly never been happier and for the first time in my life i had a best friend. I had a birthday party at the end of the school year and a bunch of people came- people from my school!- we genuinely had an amazing time. The girls all slept over and for once, finally, i felt like i belonged.

Eighth grade was a breeze, if you skim over Adderall making me almost punch my mom in the face. It was the first and last time i ever raised a fist to my parents. But it had done it's job. I wasn't getting picked on, i gained a little more weight and filled out nicely, I excelled at academics, won awards in jazz band, joined the bangor youth symphony orchestra, and actually made real friends (none in my school save for patti really.)

So.... That's my life up until high school. That's when i met depression. 😘