#alcohlism tw

[greywoodrpg]

𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟

he was born fifty-seven years ago, he is a werewolf who lives in the outskirts as a mechanic at bolt's auto, and is in no pack. he looks an awful lot like jeffrey dean morgan.

“we are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours.”

tw: alcoholism, domestic abuse, ptsd, death

Life before the man called Roman is no concern to you, he is a shell of the man he once was and a ghost to those who knew him.  Instead we begin the tale of an ambitious young family man accepting the invitation to join a black operations team for the US government.  Upon the acceptance, he gained the code name Roman and that is where we will begin…

At the ripe age of thirty, Roman joined a sector of the military that few people had knowledge of its existence.  Only those with certain expertise joined the ranks of this elite task force.  The mission was simple, to take out targets no one even knew existed; threats against the United States and the free world.  Over the next decade, Roman would place work as his highest priority, being gone for months at a time without so much as a word between his wife and him.  The children hardly knew their father, all they knew was he was a man with a mission and when the government came knocking, he answered.

For almost half a decade, he went on numerous missions until one fateful day the mission went in disarray.  The men and women he called family were killed next to him, he barely survived but the enemy certainly left their mark on him with the burns from the blast along his left side of his back along with the mental scars no one can see.

Roman emerged from the ashes, after months of therapy and counseling he returned home to Colorado to his faithful wife and children, a broken man.  Civilian life did not suit Roman well; he lost all sense of worth knowing he survived while his boys and girls were buried six feet under.  Things began to unravel quickly with his inability to keep a job, his anger issues and alcoholism.  Despite his wife’s efforts to comfort him and help him through this turmoil, Roman could not climb out of the hole he was digging. 

Eventually, his anger turned on his family and in a drunken rage he did something unforgivable.  After this incident, the love of his life, the woman he created a life with filed for divorced and asked him to leave for the sake of their children.

It would not be until another five years when Roman returned to Colorado, this time though it was to watch from afar as they lowered his deceased wife and her husband six feet under.  A drunk driver hit them one evening while they were driving home from a show.  With his three kids being orphaned, Roman moved back to Colorado to keep an eye on his children.  After all, he heard rumors of tensions running high within the supernatural community and his children shared half his werewolf DNA.

After he lost his wife, Roman's alcoholism and drug use got out of control, one night finding him in the wrong situation and discovering the next full moon what he had become. He had a position as a bouncer at Monarch’s Club, making sure the guests stay in check and making friends with the strippers, many of them calling him papa bear.  Roman continues to watch over his grown children from afar, not wanting to disturb their lives with his mess.

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

When coming to Greywood he received an additional power.  Much like older men complaining that the rain is coming because their joints hurt, Roman received the ability to know when something bad is going to happen to someone he loves.  Unfortunately it is just a feeling he gets and sometimes it can be chalked up to paranoia from the life he lived.  Yet, weird things tend to happen to those close to him when he gets that inkling.   It is one reason, he tends to keep his guard up around people. 

penned by... amber

[chvndlr]

As JD joked about other families, Chandler shrugged. Truthfully, his friends' parents usually seemed nicer and more invested in their kids lives but some of them probably had their own secrets. He chuckled as JD suggested ways to feed into Susan's delusions. "I mean...that would be pretty funny. It's up to you, but we'll need a secret signal so I can tell you when you're going too far." Chandler offered up.

The question about John shouldn't have been as surprising as it was. He stared at JD for several seconds - much too long - before he finally started trying to form a sentence. Because what could he even say without giving JD a good idea of what things had been like growing up? Ultimately, he decided to just be honest...JD was going to find out for himself, anyways. "It depends on the kind of day he's had. And if he's watching sports, he gets pretty mad when his team is losing. That's one of the reasons I wanted you here...Safety in numbers kind of thing."

Growing up in town, JD had always had friends. And he always made them easily. However as an adult, he only considered a few chosen people as his true close friends; one of them definitely being Chandler. Plus he was always down for something fun and wild, even if it was just to pretend to be his friend's roommate. Though he realized he didn't know much about Chandler's childhood or life before Merrock. So it would do him good to learn about him in the mean time.

Following Chandler to the couch, JD nodded as he leaned back on the cushion. "Aren't all parents a bit much?" He asked with a laugh before getting serious as he listened to his friend. His eyes got wide as he learned about Susan and John, a smile forming as he could definitely see himself causing a bit of rukus. "So I can't drape an arm around your shoulder? And I shouldn't give you googly eyes from across the room?" He asked feigning disappointment before shaking his head, "no sweat. I'm sure it'll be fine." At least with his mom, now Chandler's dad was a different story, at least when it came to football, "good thing I didn't pack any OSU stuff then," he winced before adding, "does he get mean when he's drunk? Or he is more of a functioning dude when drunk?"

[loonadelfly]

>Do coke for 50 hours in a row

>Stay awake for 2 days

>Have the most fucked up nosebleed of your life and almost OD

>drink wine and repeat

[the-dragon-father]

Bungie has failed me

because i'm wanting guardians with mental disorders now.

give me somebody with walking dead syndrome, who thinks they're rotting in real time

or a guardian with alice in wonderland syndrome, where they perceive the world around them to be shrinking and growing

give me a guardian with multiple personalities, that'd be cool

or one who's got drug addictions/alcoholism, who keeps OD'ing because "my ghost will just revive me"

gimme guardian rehab

we have ptsd, sure, sure

but a schizophrenic guardian who hallucinates mid fight? as somebody with schizoaffective mood disorder, that'd be fucking amazing to have that representation

welp. time to start writing, i suppose.

[inlovewithcentipedes]

i am one day drugs clean and 10 days alcohol clean i am devastated and happy at the same time. fun fact i am motherfucking 15 which makes this even more.. crazy. i really want to turn my life around. i have good grades and friends(somewhat) but got really addicted to different shit

TIME TO GET BETTER YAYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

[dechagrin]

something about his mother offering him a glass of wine brought a deep sense of dread over the man, and he found himself sinking into the counter and wishing he had a reason to bolt for the front door. toulouse had the self-control of a poorly drained dog, knowing he'd have to be extra careful in how fast he consumed it, match his mom's sips. he could simply say no, but toulouse wasn't capable of doing that. deep down, he knew that. he would argue to himself that it was white, so maybe he wouldn't like it enough to inhale it... but then again, he lost his pallet long ago and just itched for the aftermath now, not caring about taste as he once had. the food smelled so good, and he tried to focus on that, but once the wine was mentioned it was hard to focus on anything else. offering his mother a strained smile, he nodded his head, relieved that he didn't have to ask for alcohol and that it was being offered, his nerves sparking. ❛ uh, yeah, that sounds great actually. thank you,❜

god, toulouse, if only she knew what a fucking failure you were.

She wasted no time taking one of her bowls from the cabinet, fine China for the finest of company, and an empty glass. She almost always made too much food for dinner when not following a recipe, so used to cooking for four little mouths for so long, it was hard for her to measure out enough for just herself. Then there were moments like these where she was thanking her lucky stars that was the case, because she would know her eldest son, at least, would be going to bed with a full stomach. If she could ship them all dinner every single night, she would not hesitate. Stirring the pot, she carefully began to fill the bowl to the brim with soup, a slice of fresh baked bread balanced on the side. "La Grande Cote," she informed him, it was her wine choice of the week, though her glass was momentarily forgotten about, abandoned on the coffee table for his company. "Would you like a glass?"

[krysztal-gorski]

Jest zle dajcie mi alkohol chce napic sie teraz w tej chwili blagam.

[seiba333]

being an alcoholic while having an 3@ting disorder is so frustrating!!!!

[sickddolly]

born to be an alcoholic, forced to have an ed

[juniorig0327]

As much as realistically don’t see Percy doing drugs or drinking, it will be unfortunately something I’m probably going to incorporate into my fics because the idea and angst of it is too hard to resist.

I’d say it starts when finally his brain starts to process his trauma, and I mean like all of it. It doesn’t start on purpose, maybe he stumbles across it on accident. But then he gets his first few tastes and there’s no turning back.

Naturally he’d hate it, he’d hate his reliance on alcohol and drugs (I dont see Percy ever drinking Beer because of Gabe, when he drinks, he drinks to forget.) and he’d probably start isolating himself and ignoring people simply because he’s scared. He doesn’t know what type of drunk he is and he doesn’t want to find out.

Eventually it sort of spirals from a way of coping to a form of self harm in a way. Because his body forces himself to remember regardless.

And eventually he’d get sober, he’d never touch alcohol again. Because at the end of the day, Percy is supposed to be the one who breaks the cycle. I personally HC Percy as a very intense stress smoker (cigarettes) so I don’t think that habit would go away.

But just the idea of it really gets me lol and I’m surprised I don’t see more of it (probably because this type of thing is typically given to Jason Grace)

The fact that every morning after a hangover he may look in the mirror and see Gabe staring back.

Maybe he’d start smoking the same brand of cigs that Gabe did.

Maybe someone tried to help him and he just got really aggressive and angry.

Plus people who are abused as a child are more likely to engage in alcohol and drugs.

Also let’s not even get started into canon Percy, with not only the drinking but the drug side? Taking drugs in order to get some sort of high because his body craves an adrenaline rush and sparring with campers and killing monsters isn’t enough anymore. Hes become so addicted to the rush of adrenaline he can’t live without it? Idk man.

Anyway I guess that’s sort of an explanation? Or something as to why Percy will commonly be doing things like that and why it may seem so ooc and why I say “fuck it” and do it anyways.

Of course I have other characters who have bad coping mechanisms that may or may not be in most of my stuff. Like Annabeth who I’m sort of giving compulsive helping and Jason with his hero complex lol.

Anyways… thank you for coming to my TedTalk lmao.

[dreaminawaymylife]

I work so I can buy alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs. Diet Coke too of course.

[darkness-follows]

Personal rant which I WILL delete later...

I CANT BELIEVE IM A 24 YEAR OLD ALCOHOLIC

Wtf dude. What the actual fuck.

In November last year my therapy ended (not because I was done but because my Therapist decided to get preggo) and we did very little to prepare me mentally to end my almost 3 year therapy.

So obviously I didn't do so well with it.

In 2020 during The *giving up my entire early 20s to a fucking pandemic* time I picked up drinking again.

It wasn't good but it wasn't awful until November. Since then it's been awful. And recently because summer always triggers a lot of body dismorphia for me it's gotten terrible. I can't recall the last night where i didn't have a drink.

Im like a step away from starting in the mornings just to handle my daily bullshit.

The people who I spend a lot of time finding that were supposed to help me with my mental health and my ADDICTION keep letting me down so I get overwhelmed by stuff I really really need to take care of over and over again.

And every day is the fucking same man.

I don't know. Im really in a bad spot atm. Barely hanging on... drinking myself dumb and numb.

[loonadelfly]

Fucking high on cocaine and doing skincare my God I love my liife

[kaijuno]

Four of us sat in a worn-out car in the back of a McDonald's parking lot. It sure had plenty of city miles on it.

The music was loud, the laughs were endless, and none of us were concerned about anything but these moments in time. We started using drugs on nights like these, but none of us gave it too much reflection. Deep down inside we all thought the same thing: this is just a phase and someday, soon enough, we would grow out of it.

It's heartbreaking to look back at those moments with the understanding that we were not going to grow out of it - we were growing into it. We were growing into poor grades, lost friends, and abandoned hobbies. We were growing into family fights, restless nights, and an insatiable appetite. We were growing into police cruisers, holding cells, and psych wards. Some of us were growing into our caskets.

Four of us sat in an old worn-out car in the back of a McDonald's parking lot.

Two of us never made it out.

[gor3sigil]

If I didn't have the sheer will to bear witness and show younger people that we survive, I don't know if I'd still be here.

Being trans is hell. Being alcoholic is hell. Learning to take care of yourself after a life of neglect and abuse is hard, so fucking hard. Because every damned coping mechanism I developed to survive are unhealthy.

Being disabled makes being employed as draining as being unemployed. I'm in a constant state of poverty or mental and physical exhaustion. I can't find a job with enough hours to be better financially without it being too much mentally and physically.

I feel so used. I try so hard to be sober and healthy but I don't even see the point. I'm tired and worned out. I just hope that it does get better one day. That's all I can do.

[sm0ke4brainz]

guys i havent posted because guess who got alcohol poisoning and got a ride in the wee woo ambulance yesterday!! this girllll. it was extremely traumatic and i almost died but alas i live. i had to eat a lot today to recover which sucked and i look fat in my new clothes but whatever ion wanna die yet so im just glad to be here.

bruises i got from not being able to walk look cool tho