#and no I'm not bashing men who write their dream girls (as long as it's respectful) as i definitely have written about guys i would date lo

[iamagodjkimcatholicicantsaythat]

My mom and I are watching Ghost Whisper season one and while we like the show and we like Melinda, there's something about how she's written?

Suddenly I said, "I bet she was written by a man" and guess what?

She was

[ferrerochocobo]

When you get pretty much told you make a person feel physically uncomfortable and full of anxiety- it's understandable that you'll feel bad.

But when that person WON'T give valid reasons, hasn't told you why and refuses to engage in convo so you can solve it- are you really the weirdo- or are they?

Now, I gotta say- I'm 5'7, a bit buxom and a bit awkward af.

You know that kid doing yoga/foam sword fights on your lawn at 6 am? That's me.

I have no qualms about my weirdness. At 28, I learned to stop questioning it.

Because when you have Aspergers, you can either become a miserable fuck who makes everyone else's lives miserable out of your own lack of understanding how conversation works OR you can try to fit. And while you do, make people laugh.

My dark humor was what actually saved me. And I went from a girl who was usually in a hovel and obsessed with dark things like Silent Hill and death to helping people conquer their fears. And teaching them what was behind all that gory stuff that scared them in a horror movie.

Despite that, I occassionally am still considered a bit scary to those who don't know me. Especially if they haven't met me in person. Because trust me- meeting me in person- you'll find I'm talkative but bashful when complimented. (I especially blush when I'm in cosplay and someone who knows me compliments my outfit.)

I hide constantly behind a belief that I'm tough. That nothing scares me and that I've waded my way through the goriest films that would make you lose your lunch to. Don't ever call me on that. I'll fumble up nervously- citing A Serbian Film as my darkest film.

But for God's sake, I wish people looked deeper. I wish they saw that I have repulsions, fears, hopes and dreams. Just like them.

You know someone tapped my shoulder a few days ago to get my attention and it put me in a foul mood? I don't like being touched. By anyone. It's an Aspie thing.

You remember that? Well that's me internally anytime someone touches me.

Regardless- past that is someone who covers her eyes during horror movies, loves Cardcaptor Sakura and has celestial bedsheets. I write so much smut and sketch so many outfit designs, I have the gray pencil stain down the side of my palm.

And as I hide myself in Silent Hill, that is my attempt to indicate to you I feel detached and unwanted. I realize it's subtle. I realize my depression buries itself even in things I love- but it's those very monsters that have taught me to be strong.

Those things that go bump in the night? I know them. I was them. And I only really become them over again when someone puts me under harsh lighting. In essence- I turn into the scary thing you project me as to get you to leave me alone if you're going to hurt me. As long as you try to understand- I won't. But the minute you become intolerant- I turn on you the same way you have to me.

I've heard in the Amazon- if you cross a snakes' path once- you never go back that same way. For a long time, I was that kind. You could cross me once, and I would make you regret it when returning.

I was quick to bite, wound and emotionally wreck people in a show of empty pride or vindictiveness.

I hurt people.

And cried everytime my proverbial knife went in them. Wishing they would leave me alone. Wishing the world in one hand would leave me alone while in the other, wishing they would try to see past my surface. All the while- self-sabatoging each time things fell apart.

I became a hermit in any way I could. My bed was my refuge. Curled up in the fetal position often as my clean clothes laid on the floor.

I stopped caring. And stopped allowing love to fill my life. All the king's horses and all the king's men indeed could never put me together again.

It was only after medication and therapy that I began to rise from that. I was who had to fix myself.

I was shown love by people who healed themselves and wanted only to help me understand the thing I feared.

Love scared me. And as my best friend has made my wallpaper- it rings true.

"How can anyone be afraid of love?" "How can they not?"

It was love and acceptance that pushed out fear and hatred. The hug you never got but could feel your friend 100 or so miles away give you when your world broke.

Do you know how hard it is to hug someone so tight, all their pieces come flying home? How much that takes and to have them finally understand they're loved?

The person who does it saves you. They don't save you from life or depression- they save you feom yourself.

As my world brightened, my fandoms brightened. And there, FFXV came into view. Bright colors and fun and a dark antagonist. I have the best of both worlds in that fandom. Between Prompto or Ardyn.

And lemme tell you.

....

It's hard choices, man xD

But symbolic. One is light while the other is dark.

So now we come to the conclusion.

Earlier, and for a week now- I have been treated as weird. Unwanted. And not told why.

I have wracked my brain trying to figure out why someone who doesn't even know me- I make nervous. They have made me cry, be in a bad mood and in general- not want to go on the Discord server we share.

But tonight- something turned in me. My give-a-shit light flicked off.

And then I realized it-

I don't give a fuck if they're afraid of me. They don't know me. And eventually- they're going to wear themselves out scared of someone simply wanting their own acceptance.

When someone says what they said to me- it stings. Oh, it stings. But try this on for size-

(Continued in next post.)