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crushing-on-nico-di-angelo · 4 years ago

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Seven Nights in Cabin Thirteen

I’m inspired by another post I saw here that I didn’t wish to hijack lol, and OP deactivated or else I’d link their account here. credits to @the-ghost-king for the idea of a demigod therapy/Will being a past drug addict on this post. Yes this is a bad fic. It’s also my first fic ever. Please criticize if you see anything

Will never thought that he would ever appreciate his first monster attack. He was seven years old, and in hindsight his teacher probably only worked there to prey on young demigods (at least, that’s why he suspects the attack happened so early in his life compared to other demigods). But when Lee Fletcher sat him down 4 years later and told him that he was trans and would now be known as Lee instead of his birth name, Will knew that everything happened for a reason.

After many conversations with Lee about how he knew (gods bless that man’s patience) and with an older Athena camper who’s special interest dealt in psychology, Will realized the reason that he always felt disconnected from his mom and sisters in Austin was because he was like Lee. He was a boy.

Telling people wasn’t easy. Of course his older brother had to know; he was the one who introduced Will to this concept. Telling the rest of camp was as easy as telling Chiron, who told Dionysus, who always threatened to turn anyone into a dolphin if they talked shit about any trans kid. Telling his mom... that had to be the hardest part. How was he supposed to tell them? The only similarities they all had were that they were all musically inclined and that they were all girls.

Apparently, Will forgot that Naomi Solace was a musician. The music industry has more queers than an all girl’s school GSA. Her only questions were “Alright, what’s your name then, kiddo?” and “When do you want to set up an appointment with a therapist?” As for his siblings, well, let’s just say the oldest, Frankie, always knew. And it didn’t take long for seven-year-old Mickey to cut her doll-that-somehow-looked-exactly-like-Will’s hair and change his notes from high to low when she accompanied his singing on violin, as part of voice training.

Four years has passed since then and Will can hardly believe it. He’s stealth back at Austin because it’s just easier that way, but since a quarter of the camp knew him since he was seven, he figured there was no point; it isn’t like anyone treated him as though he wasn’t a man-- er, boy-- at camp anyways. So, life went on. He got his period for the first time during the Battle of Manhattan, that was no fun, but luckily Thalia was cool about it and made sure not to tell anyone. He started binding shortly afterwards, got a couple bruises hear and there. Kayla yelled at him for a week for that one, he remembers fondly. Discovered why it’s better to take off your contacts in the shower... that day isn’t such a fond memory. That was the first and last time he ever made himself bleed. Although, he will say that’s what sparked his interest in medicine and what made him the best doctor Camp Half Blood had seen in decades at the mere age of 15 years old. Life at camp was good, if a bit dull. He got used to the routine and the constant influx of damaged campers, the siblings and friends, and the always-perfect Texas Barbecue and Coke.

That is, until the War Between the Camps happened. Lou Ellen woke Will up before sundown that day and told him their plan. They were to hide in the tall grasses and wait for Camp Jupiter to show their ugly faces. Cecil had the genius idea to paint their faces and arms black so they’d blend into the night better, and Will supposes in the hubub of everything they forgot that his hair nearly (”nearly”) glows, even at night. Until Mr. Nico “I’m so smart, I nearly killed myself shadow travelling” di Angelo pointed it out. Whatever, it made sense at the time. They won the war against Gaea, not without sacrifice, and they finally, finally got past all the wars and destruction and health issues that they were able to just hang out and get to know each other as friends.

And boy, was their friendship amazing. Nico had the best taste in music from Will’s eyes, and that’s saying something because Will is a music snob. Nico could be a little stubborn at times, but that’s alright because so was Will (”Gods damn it, Nico, if you don’t take your medication right this second I will-” “You’ll what? Hm? You’ll force it down my throat? Last I checked that was abuse.”). They fit together so perfectly and became fast friends.

It wasn’t always sunshine and lollipops, though. What is, for a demigod? Will relapsed once and passed out right in front of Nico’s cabin. He was crashing from an exciting high that he hadn’t experienced in so long, and he felt so tired and ashamed of himself. Methamphetamine was a goddamned bitch, so while he was coming out of withdrawals, he made Nico promise not to let him leave the cabin for a week were simmering down. He had to make sure something like this never happened again. They Iris Messaged Chiron and explained the situation, and he understood. He made sure to contact the older son of Dionysus who had been Will’s therapist in the past and said what had happened and they agreed on a session for soon after Will got mostly over his cravings.

So now they had a week of downtime together. Awesome.

“Solace, do you need anything? Are you okay?” Nico asked towards the end of the first full day that withdrawals were over.

“I’m-- fuck. I’m fine. I swear.” He responded unconvincingly.

“That’s not what you said last night... no offense, but I’m not fully inclined to believe you when you look like shit.”

“It- It... it’s not something I’d like to talk about, if that’s alright. And... don’t tell Clarisse, please.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, don’t worry. But I would like to know if this is going to be a common occ--” Before he could even finish asking, Will was already shaking his head and responding.

“One-time thing only, I promise. Gods, I’m sorry I showed up here at all.”

“Woah, buddy. That’s not what I was saying at all. You’re my best friend, I’m glad you came here.” Will almost couldn’t believe what Nico was saying. Then again, did Nico have very many friends? Nico himself certainly didn’t seem to think so. “In any case, you don’t have to explain what happened, or what led up to this, or anything like that. I don't need to know. What I do need you to do, however, is take a shower. I’m sorry to say so, but you smell like ass.”

“Yeah well, I’m…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. How do you explain to someone that he still wanted his drugs, and he didn’t want to leave the cabin because he knew he would leave to go find some before he would even think about going to his own cabin at this point.

“You don’t have to leave,” Nico said, perhaps sensing his agitation. “I have a shower in the cabin.”

“What the fuck do you mean you have a shower in the cabin?” The shock of this knowledge get him out of his stuck mind. “How did you get plumbing in here? How did Chiron allow this?”

“I helped design my cabin, and while I may not have all the experience in architecture that Annabeth does, I do know a thing or two. I did meet with Isambard Kingdom Brunel, you know.”

“I did not know. You- Who is Isambard Kingdom Brunel?” Will asked

“Oh, some civil engineer who is like a million years old.” Will scoffed at that.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. He was never going to let go of the fact that Nico was technically like 80 years old.

“Oh hush, William.” William… never Will, like most people. William… like he was something special, something that deserved three syllables. “Anyways, like I was saying: take a shower. You look like you were up mowing all of camp with a flashlight.”

Knowing Will’s reaction to drugs, that wasn’t unlikely. He stood up. “Lead the way? I’ve never been around your cabin before.”

Nico’s cabin was unlike any others. Using some sort of Doctor Who-like technology, there was a living room, a kitchen, and one room. Surprisingly, the walls were all light or pastel, a stark contrast from Nico’s general (and unintentional) punk-rock appearance. However, the furniture was all a deep black. Nico led him to his room, a minimalistic one with a bed, a desk, and a lamp. Will wondered where all the personalization was, but made no comment.

“Here’s the shower,” Nico pointed to yet another room in this somehow huge cabin. “If you see something amiss or odd… ignore it.” Will didn’t want to think of the implications of that sentence.

He stepped in the shower and oh my gods, watching the dirt and grime wash off him after his 8 hour high-- which he did not want to think about (and not just because the author doesn’t want to taint his search history), it was too embarrassing-- was a wonderful feeling. He was still tired. He didn’t know why, it didn’t used to be this hard. However, he was pretty sure that he tried to clean the entire outside of the hypnos cabin before going over to the Hades cabin to do the same. This was the first and last time Will would ever thank the gods for Nico’s poor sleeping patterns, he had heard him outside and came to get him before he tired himself out more.

He nearly passed out in the shower again but managed to make it out. He looked around the well-stocked bathroom and realized something that he probably should have bothered to notice before: he didn’t have any clothes with him. Fuck. He wrapped a (black) towel around his chest because he didn’t think his body could take anymore binding and prayed to Dionysus that Nico didn’t notice that his chest wasn’t exactly male.

Luckily, the first thing Nico did say was “Is that a tattoo?”

Will looked down at his sun. “Yeah, it is,” he smiled. He remembered the night he did it, it was kind of hard. He ordered a tattoo gun off amazon and had Frankie do it for him shortly after the Battle of Manhattan. Some people might think it’s in honor of his dad, which is fine. It was really for Lee Fletcher, though. His mom totally freaked, for a really long time, but after his C-PTSD diagnoses she realized that whatever works for him works as long as it isn’t drugs or self harm. He knows she wants a future for him that doesn’t involve music, and that’s why she freaked. She thought it would ruin his chances. But it’s right on his shoulder, only visible in tank tops or no shirt.

"It… its to honor the man who taught me I could be myself." Will said after a small pause.

"That's a very lovely sentiment. If he made that much of an impact on you, he must be a very cool person."

"He was." Will knew that Nico heard the was by the way that Nico nodded solemnly. "I uh… I don't wish to be more of a bother, but do you mind if I go to bed now? That shower really helped."

"Yeah, of course. I can take the couch, you know where my bed is-"

"No, absolutely not." Nico sighed softly, as though he expected this. "I can sleep on the couch, in Austin I actually prefer it to my bed."

"That's-- no offense William, but that's weird."

"It feels less lonely to me," Will protested, then let out a huge yawn.

"Alright cowboy-" Will smiled at Nico's nickname for him "-get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Nighty night, Neeks. Love you." he didn't miss the small smile on Nico's face before he walked away. Will has always been very loose with his 'I love you's like that. He figured it's better to say it too much than not enough.

He had found his old stash the night before, the one that Clovis had helped him forget about. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about last nights events. At the time,he told himself that he shouldn't do anything with it, and put it out of his mind for about a week, but eventually his urge to smoke overcame his self-control. He went on a rampage of cleaning and was absolutely certain he looked like a madman. The worst part is, he didn't even know why he did it. It was as though his rehabilitation hadn't even happened, as though this was something that was as natural as getting a cup of coffee in the morning. He was so mad at himself, so embarrassed.

These thoughts occupied his mind until he fell asleep about an hour after his last words to Nico. He slept with no dreams, for the first time in about a month.

word count: 2,245

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lionheartslowstart · 4 years ago

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Getting To Know Me

I had a rough start during quarantine. My mental health was dipping pretty low, I felt isolated and bored, and I was alone with my thoughts so the body dysmorphia was turned up pretty high. I’m not sure what happened, but somehow, I was able to do a complete 180. I’m taking the time to change my lifestyle and find ways to make myself happier, because, what the fuck else am I going to do during quarantine?

First things first, I’ve changed my sleep cycle. Huzzah! I went from falling asleep at 3-5 am and waking up at 1-3 pm, to falling asleep at 10-11:30 pm and waking up at 7-8:30 am. Crazy right? Somewhere in there I hit a couple bumps in the road, so now it’s been more like falling asleep around midnight and waking up between 9 and 10. Still way better than how it was before, but I’m trying to work back down to at least 8 in the morning. This was incredibly challenging for me, and a huge victory. My energy levels have increased, and my mood has generally been better.

I’ve started doing yoga. Yes, you read that correctly. I’ve been doing yoga for almost three weeks now. It’s the first thing I do when I wake up. My best friend turned me on to this amazing app, Daily Yoga. Highly recommend. I do yoga for two days in a row then rest the third day, which is what the app suggests. I’ve been taking courses, beginner courses specifically since I’m new to this whole yoga thing. The sessions started at about 10-15 minutes, and they’ve increased to 20-30 minutes or so. Not very long, but I figure I’m doing it almost every day, which I’m told is better than long, intense workouts less frequently. I’m hoping to increase to 45-60 minute long sessions. Though, once society resumes and I start school, I may no longer be able to do it every day. But that’s why I’m trying to increase now. If I can only do yoga a few times a week instead of every day, I want to be stronger so I can participate in longer routines, and so I can challenge myself with more difficult poses.

In addition to my almost daily yoga, I have a short work out regimen I do every day, including on days I don’t do yoga. I do 100 squats, 50 crunches, 50 lower abdominal crunches, and 60 oblique crunches. Every. Single. Day. Some days I don’t want to, but I force myself, and I’m always glad I do. I also try to go on walks, especially on non-yoga days. There’s a lovely trail right by my apartment, so I try to get in at least 30 minutes. Like I said, I’ve only been doing this stuff for about three weeks, so it’s not like I’ve lost weight or anything. But I do feel stronger, and I think I look a little stronger. Also, my butt is poppin’ thanks to all the squats. I don’t know if it’s because I’m feeling stronger, or because the exercise is helping with my mental health, maybe a bit of both, but my body dysmorphia has seen a drastic decrease. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely still have bad days, but I would say that, overall, I’m obsessing about my body less, and shitting on my body less. There have even been several days where I see myself in the mirror and think, Damn, I look good.

Other than fitness, I have added a couple of other things to my day-to-day. I’ve been making sure to practice my Spanish on Duolingo every day for about ten minutes. Not only that, but I started taking French, too, which I also practice for ten minutes a day. Unlike Spanish, French is very difficult for me. I’ve studied Spanish since middle school, and while there was a large lapse in my speaking of it, it came back to me very quickly. I’ve always loved the language, and grasping it came easy to me. French, not so much. It’s way harder than Spanish. Just, generally. The grammar is less consistent, most of the differences in words are in how things are written out and NOT how they are actually spoken, so as a result, all of the words sound the fucking same, there are 80 fucking vowels to memorize, and, to top it all off, the pronunciation is super difficult already. I hate it. I love it. The challenge is the fun! My mom and I were supposed to go to France this summer (fat chance now, I know), which is why I chose French as my second language to learn. My mom speaks French, but I figure if I’m going to be spending time in a foreign country, I might as well at least try to understand what’s going on around me, as opposed to solely relying on my mother to get us around.

Another thing I’ve been working on is learning guitar. This is something I’d been doing before quarantine began, but being in quarantine has allowed me to practice a lot more. I’ve added guitar practice to my regimen, although there’s been a pause in that, as the handle for the case broke on the way to my mom’s house for a lesson, so the guitar will be remaining there until the new case arrives. But before that (and presumably after we get the new case), I’d been practicing every day. I would practice all the chords I know and play through the two songs I’ve been working on two or three times. At my most recent lesson with my mom, we downloaded a P!nk song online, and she taught me a new chord so I could play it. Now I know 10 chords: G, C, D, D7, Em, E, A, Am, A7sus, and Bb (aka, the hardest chord ever). Obviously, I still have a lot to learn, but I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. Guitar is hard, but I’m determined.

So, these 5 things (yoga, daily workout, Spanish, French, and guitar, in that order) are how I begin my day, every day. I usually finish anywhere from 10 to noon, depending on how early I wake up. This frees up the rest of my day for household chores, errands, cooking, calling my friends, video games, overall chillaxin’, and various creative endeavors like crafting or writing. But this has led to two different results, one positive and one negative.

The positive effect is that I have a schedule. My mornings are pretty set in stone, and I try to organize the rest of my day as best I can. I use a “To Do List” every day, and I include my leisurely activities on it as well so I can put everything in some kind of order. I try to accomplish any chores or errands I have in the middle of the day (with the exception of doing the dishes and cleaning the stove, which I do every night after dinner), and spend the rest of the day having fun and relaxing. I end every night by reading in bed for about thirty minutes, which has definitely helped with my sleep cycle. All of this has led me to the conclusion that I can be functional in a regular society.

The negative outcome is that I’m still bored. When I was living in Italy, I was constantly anxious because life is so slow-paced there. Other than my classes, I felt like I had nothing to do, which was a stark difference from life in the Big Apple. It just felt weird to have all this time on my hands, and as a result, I often felt unproductive. I also didn’t take as much advantage of the free time as I should have, but that largely had to do with the state of my mental health at the time, as well as just not being used to having buttloads of leisure time and therefore not knowing what to do with it. With everything going on, life right now feels really similar to how it did in Italy. Like I said, I finish my routine by the end of the morning, and then the rest of my day is just a big blank space that I try to fill with everything and anything else.

But even this has led to another positive realization! When I started this journey three weeks ago, I was afraid that when society reforms, my schedule will fall apart and I’ll become overwhelmed because I’ll suddenly have a lot of other things I need to do (namely school and medical appointments). I definitely still have anxiety about that, especially since school will be incredibly demanding, but that anxiety is beginning to lesson. Why? For the same reason I’m bored all the time! My morning routine only takes a couple hours. Even if I have to switch to the evening because of school, or split it up into half one day and half another, it will still be manageable. I know I will have space for the other demands in my life. As my mom has said to me, it’s a lot easier to go from having one schedule to having a different schedule, than to go from having no schedule at all to having a schedule. I’m sure there will be adjustments, maybe ones I haven’t thought of. But I’ll be able to figure it out, even if there are bumps in the road (which I’m sure there will be), because I’m building a skillset.

So, what does all of this have to do with the title of this entry, “Getting To Know Me?” I was on the phone with my therapist the other day, telling her about all the progress and positive changes I’ve made, and how I’ve been feeling as a result. She responded, “You’re getting to know yourself.” This took me by surprise, which I voiced to her. I told her that I’ve always prided myself on knowing exactly who I am, but I nevertheless thought she was right. That, yes, I do know Who I Am, but, as with everything else, I’m discovering even more. I keep peeling back layer after layer, I keep thinking I’ve reached the core, but then I tap a few times and realize, Oh fuck yeah! There’s even more!

I’ve learned that I like waking up early in the morning. My goal is to be able to wake up at 7 or 7:30 every day. (This doesn’t change the fact that I love nighttime, which will no doubt cause me issues down the line, but I’ll figure it out.) I love learning languages. I want to be able to speak Spanish and French fluently. Maybe I’ll even try learning Italian after! I want to be able to speak as many languages as I can cram into my brain. I’ve learned that I can take this fitness journey, and I’m enjoying it. It’s okay that I’m still a beginner, and that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of being an expert if I keep going. And I can live without sweets. I still treat myself every now and then (and when I do, portion control is still an issue I’m trying to work on), but for the most part I don’t crave chocolate or sugar the way I used to. I’m currently attempting to go two weeks without dairy. Now that has been HARD. The exceptions being anything that comes with my Blue Apron meals, because I’m not going to waste food, and putting a little bit of milk in my coffee, because I can’t not have a little bit of milk in my coffee. But in terms of breakfast, lunch, and snacking, zero dairy. I’ve substituted Pringles and Pop Tarts for fruits, applesauce, and (non-dairy) yogurt. I’m only on day three, but I’m confident I can make it to day fourteen. I’ve learned that I have more energy than I thought I did, which is huge. I’d been so used to feeling sluggish and exhausted, I had no idea I have the capacity to feel this energized! The best part is that I know it’s because I’m doing all of these things that MAKE me feel energized. And they make me feel energized because they make me happy. Even sitting here writing this, I’ve just thought of more things I want to work on while I have this time. And I’m going to! I have the time, all I need to do is remember to add it to my To Do List.

I know it’s a scary time right now. I don’t want to pretend it isn’t, or that a lot of lives haven’t been lost, or that we shouldn’t take it seriously. But taking it seriously involves staying at home as much as possible, and if we’re stuck at home anyway, shouldn’t we make the most of it?

#personal #reflection #self love #healing #fitness

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actual-ongoing-dumpster-fire · 5 years ago

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My family made a fucked up, unlovable person

Potential trigger warnings: abuse, self harm, suicide (can’t do a cut on mobile, sorry)

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about interactions with most of my family members growing up and how it’s affected me as a person.

My mom was emotionally absent, she seemed to get frustrated or annoyed by me. My dad had anger issues. He’s never physically abused me (besides spanking me a bit too forcefully). But he has raised his voice a lot, and while he’s yelling and throwing things around he’s also ranting and cussing. Obviously it made me fear him and all I could really do that when it happened was just stand there and try not to break down in fearful tears in front of him because I was afraid my “punishment” (his yelling) would be worse if I start crying. The important thing to remember in my family is crying is bad, it means you’re being difficult and nobody wants to hear it. Or my family wasn’t able to effectively deal with me being an overly sensitive child, because I have had an anxiety disorder my entire life and it doesn’t take much for me to cry. (Another important note: my dad was a truck driver and could be gone for a few days at a time. My mom worked and still works a flexible schedule, not a 9 to 5. This meant that if I wasn’t being watched by my babysitter, my grandmother or my sister would watch me as a kid.)

My brother has a temper like my dad does. One memory I have from when I was four I think, is I got excited about something and he screamed something at me and naturally, it made me cry because it scared me. I was never close with him. He basically doesn’t interact with me anymore, another long story. Our nonexistent relationship doesn’t really factor too much into my mental turmoil since we were never close, so maybe I’ll go in depth another time, I don’t know.

My sister and brother are several years older than me. This meant my sister had to babysit me a lot when I was a baby because she hadn’t graduated from high school yet. She carries resentment towards me because my parents had her babysit me, and several times she has complained about this to me whenever I’ve told her to stop treating me like a child (when I’m an adult). So, my sister sees me as a burden and as someone to do things she’s too lazy to do because she’s had to babysit me a lot, nothing I had any say over (?!) because nobody asks to exist, it just happens, right?

My grandmother also babysat me a lot. Or, I stayed at her house and had to occupy myself with whatever (note: anybody watching me, including my parents, never really interacted with me because they were always watching TV. Unless I wanted to watch whatever they were watching in the living room, then they wouldn’t be talking to me.) I was there, but she carried about her business and did her own thing and I did mine. (I’m not sure if this is super awful, I’m just getting everything out right now and in a mentally bad place).

My aunts were annoyed by me too.

Not only was I accepted in my family, I was often made fun of throughout school for my weight. No validation from my family, none from school. That means very low self esteem and self worth. I’m improving, but I still hate my appearance and don’t see myself as too lovable. Especially right now.

I know that so many other people have had it much worse than me growing up. I’ve never been beaten, I was just emotionally neglected for the most part and whenever I did something my dad didn’t like a few times he yelled and screamed at me for around a half hour or less and that was it. It’s just.... it still has obviously affected me.

It’s just a night where I’m feeling angry with my family and everybody else treating me shitty during my childhood because they’ve created an unlovable person. They’ve made a clingy, insecure, emotionally unstable woman. I had so many hopes and dreams as a child. Lawyer, doctor, vet, astronaut, I’ve always wanted to be all of those things at one point or another. (No encouragement from family. They said I’d have to go to school forever. More discouraging.) Now, I’m 23 years old and going to school for a second time and living with my parents because I literally cannot go to school and live alone at the same time. It’s why I dropped out of a state university and had to come back home and go to this podunk community college that miraculously offers bachelors degrees. I’ve only got around a year left if I can stick through it but god dammit, will it be hard if I’m going to have a breakdown about my life a few times a month and just feel an emotional rollercoaster each and every day. It’s going to be god damn hard feeling like I’m an outcast EVERYWHERE I am or go.

Why on earth do I think that having some good friends and a good partner will cure my mental turmoil? I don’t know. I should know better. I was still unwell when I had friends and a girlfriend. All I know is, I just want to fit in somewhere and I want to feel loved. I want to feel loved so bad. Whenever I think about this loneliness and isolation and how plain UNLOVED I fucking feel, it’s all I can do not to scream until my throat is raw and I can’t talk for several days. Or pull all of my hair out. Or slash up my arms. But I can’t do any of those things, because people will see and get freaked out and my family will pretend they care. If they really cared, though, they would see how sick and awful I can get. That I’m very good at hiding things for the most part.

I know it’s all on me to get better. Nobody else can. But I crave the affection, the love and the acceptance I missed out on from my childhood. I feel like I can’t find myself able to get better if I don’t have anybody encouraging me but myself. I really just crave someone to hold me and let me cry and just... comfort me. I’m trying to work on my issues but I can’t really hug and comfort myself, you know?

I just needed to get this out and indulge my usual craving for validation, attention, and coddling. If you read through all of this, congrats. If the more likely happens and nobody reads all of this shit, I at least have something to read to my therapist for if I forget how to articulate what the fuck is with me and my head, how I feel, etcetera. I’m going to try and stop crying and silently screaming and go to bed, I have to work my minimum wage job tomorrow (actually today, in less than eight hours). I hope I manage to stick this one out.

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motherlyra · 6 years ago

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Venom-o-us Ch4: Acute Period

I fucking.... Love writing this story guys. It is just so much fun.

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You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, confused.

“Lost? What do you mean we lost?” You asked, sitting up again and dropping your arms to your sides. Your right arm felt like it was throbbing, especially by the collarbone area. When you looked over at it, you noticed where your pajamas instead took a dark and oozy look, coating your entire shoulder area in pure Venom.

Means we lost. Did not win. Lee is more dangerous now.

“How did we lose? We are here, you must have beat him, right?” You questioned, concern thick on your voice. There was a moment of silence, and that made your concern worsen. “Are you okay?”

You were hurt. We couldn’t finish Lee without losing you too. Chose you over Lee. He escaped.

“Venom, I’m not asking about Lee, I asked if you were okay.” You clarified, and their was another thoughtful pause.

Missing part of us. Was in rush to save you. Got hurt, kept going.

At that, you scrambled out of bed and nearly tripped yourself running to the bathroom so quickly. You stumbled to the sink and flicked on the light, quickly looking into the mirror. “Missing- He took a part of you!? Are you okay!? How bad is it? Are your hurting?”

Not hurting now. Not much gone. Enough to be dangerous, and Lee is already dangerous.

“But you really are okay?” You asked again, touching the mirror and looking for any hints of Venom. Your vision went black and memories flashed in the back of your mind, speeding much too quickly for you to make out anything. Venom was looking for something, and after a little while, they found it.

The scene was too bright and hazy, the colors washed out like someone didn’t know the settings of a camera, so it took you a moment to realize it was a memory of your childhood. Back when you were trying to grow your hair out longer, before changing your mind and spontaneously wanting to cut most of it off. You could see your mom- looking much younger than you last saw her- standing behind your child self. She carefully lifted your hair up and gracefully cut at it with the kitchen scissors, letting the hair fall to the tiled ground.

Time quickly reversed a few seconds, and your mom pulled at your darker than black hair, more oily than it should be, and you mom chopped it once more. The scene reset again, but this time your mother painfully yanked at your hair to get you to sit up straight, saying things that were muffled by the memory, before cutting off the thick tendrils of Venom trailing from your head.

The darkness faded from your vision and you snapped back to reality, seeing your present self blinking rapidly through the mirror.

Felt like that. Fine now.

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes tight, still trying to get used to all of the rides through memory lane Venom was giving you. “Hhh… Hair. Okay, like cutting hair.” You took another quick breath and stood up, looking into the mirror again. “So what does that mean? Are you weaker now? Should I be concerned for you?”

Should be only concerned about Lee. He is angry. He-

“I said I don’t care about him. Stay focused.” You interrupted your other and placed a hand on the shoulder Venom was covering.

… Should be fine. Was not much, just a little. Just scared.

And you could feel it. There was that underlying fear making your heart race, but if it was your fear for the safety of Venom, or fear that belonged to Venom, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t want to be seperated. You didn’t want to be used. You didn’t want to kill more innocent people.

You took a step back, realizing that you couldn’t quite tell where your thoughts were being influenced by Venom. “Calm down. I’m here with you, right? You saved me, and that means we didn’t lose yet. We can get that part of you away from him, and you won’t have to worry about that ever again. Okay?” You asked, gently rubbing the symbiote. You looked down, thoughts thinking back to the fight. “After all, it’s my fault he got that bit of you. I should have listened to you.”

Yes, but we understand. Lee was also clever, and tried to keep himself from getting exposed to others as well. Did not end up well for him either.

You bit your cheek, trying to think. “So… He’s clever, stronger, and has weapons that can hurt us. How do we beat him?”

Can’t. Not strong enough on our own. We need help.

“You got friends?” You asked, hopeful. You didn’t think Venom would be the kind of alien to make friends, but they were quick to say that you needed help.

Of sorts. Can lead us to them.

You felt your eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise, and you quickly walked out of the bathroom and headed towards the window. “Great then lets go-”

No.

“...No?” You stopped. “I thought you wanted to get that part of you back asap?”

We need to get that part of us away from Lee, yes. But you are still hurt. And hungry. We need our strength or we risk worse.

You didn’t even notice you were hungry until Venom said so. “Right, okay… Um, do you want something in particular? I can order delivery.” You sat at the couch and opened your laptop, ready to search up whatever Venom was craving, if they even prefered any food other than chocolate. You weren’t sure how much of your body was shared afterall.

Steak. Make it bloody.

You didn’t know what else you expected. “Does… Does New York deliver cooked steaks?” You questioned, quickly typing in an appropriate search for it. Lo and behold, New York delivers everything. The price made you hesitate though, loudly blowing through your lips as you looked at the unreasonable number. Movement got your attention, and you watched a dark tendril reach out of your pajamas and lay a hundred dollar bill on the computer.

“Fine, but just because you deserve a treat.” You caved, quickly typing in your address and placing the order. You felt that warm fluffy satisfaction feeling in the back of your head again, and it in turn made you smile. “Now we wait.”

You laid down onto your couch, getting the pillow comfortably under your head, and you let yourself relax. Even though your body was comfortable, your mind still hummed with thoughts and questions, and you could feel Venom slightly shifting over your shoulder.

You want to ask. Go ahead.

“I was just wondering… If you wanted to talk about what happened with Spiderman, and all of that.” You could feel Venom shrink ever so slightly at that, seeming to not like that question. “I only ask because you seemed… troubled, after that memory. And I just want to be aware of any possible triggers you might have after that so I can avoid them for you.”

We are fine.

Venom was too quick to answer, and you gently rubbed your shoulder to comfort them. “Listen, I’ve had a shitty therapist and only had like two actual therapy sessions, but even I know it’s better to talk about it than just pretend you are fine. I know you aren’t, I can feel it.” They stayed quiet. “Would you want me to hide a wound from you, if it made things easier for you?”

No. We heal, and protect.

“This is no different. Emotional damage can be worse than physical damage, especially to someone that heals from everything.” You said, and that seemed to get to Venom. Something changed in the back of your head, a need to share, but then you felt it be pulled back again. “Come on, I’m here for you. That’s what friends do.”

It’s hard.

“I get that. Let’s start slow, okay? Give me some quick general thoughts when you think ‘Spiderman’ right now.” As you finished speaking, you felt pulled back into the dark memories of Venom, clusters of emotion and experiences more than visuals this time, but you could understand.

Love. Pure, blissful love, burning so unfamiliarly within you. A need to please, to grant his every wish, to impress. You showed off, making him strong, protecting him, making his life convenient. Embracing him fully, and feeling his joy as your own. And the pain- the pain and the ringing and the-

“Slow down. You did good, take a breath.” You spoke, pulling the two of you out of those thoughts before you fell too far into the rabbit hole. It felt like you were swimming in the ocean, and at any point a wave could come crashing down a you, but you willed the two of you to stay floating in the currently calm waters.

“You loved him, but he didn’t know you were living. What happened to change that?” You prompted to continue, trying to keep Venom slow and steady.

A visit to a doctor. A doctor you’ve seen before, but couldn’t place. They studied the two of you, making Spiderman even more impressed, and you even happier to let him know you were alive. But instead of joy, or confusion, or any sort of attempt of communication, he tried pulling you off. It was an immediate decision. He did not hesitate, did not consider all that you’ve done for him, and instead he tore through you, desperate to be rid of you. You held tighter, no, no, no please, you wanted to be with him. You can help him more yet, why did he hate you? Why did he hurt you? You just wanted to hold him and let him think about what he was doing, but then the doctor interrupted, hurting the both of you with sound. A gun, not unlike the one Lee had.

You jolt out of the memory as you felt yourself be painfully torn and stripped from Spiderman, bringing you back to the couch and breathing hard. “Oh… That, that hurts…” Your skin stung from the memory like a bad sunburn for a few moments, but it quickly faded as you breathed. You slowly filtered through the memory again, at your own pace, but something threw you off. “There were no bells? I thought I heard bells last time?” You asked softly.

Was not only time.

Your eyes widened at that. “You were with him more than once?”

Escaped doctor. Needed to convince Spiderman we were good. We wanted to help. He did not want us.

More memories drifted through your mind. Escaping the glass prison they made for you. Tricking Spiderman to be close and put you on, only to try and surprise him and communicate. You came all this way just for him, but he did not even try to listen. He tried running for the doctor again, but you pulled and struggled against him, trying to keep him from the pain, from hurting you again. You just wanted to help. You just wanted to be with him.

But he found himself at church bells, and yelled at you. He screamed, hitting the bells, over and over, yelling how he would rather die than be with you. You couldn’t hold onto him, the pain being too much, and you fell away. You expected him to kick you, to run and flee, to do something now that he was free of you. But instead he collapsed. The bells were too much even for him, and as much as the bells hurt, seeing him like that hurt worse. You pulled, and struggled, and carried him away from the bells, your love for him overriding the betrayal, if for a short while.

He did not seem to know you saved him, or if he did, he did not care. Much later when you found someone else to be with, to share and protect, he did the same to them. First the gun, then the bells, then the doctor. Other jumps in the memory flashed by, other betrayals Spiderman had done. Traps he had set up, offering himself to you as bait. The double crosses he led, even after giving you his word and after you helped him. Again and again, he broke promises and lied to you. Hurting you every time without fail.

The memories sped up and faded, giving you the impression that those were different memories for a later time. You cleared your throat and blinked, seeing your apartment around you once more. “Fuck man…” Your voice cracked ever so slightly, and you realized your face felt hot. You sniffed, brushing the back of your hand against your cheek and seeing that you must have been crying during the memories.

Sorry. We did not mean-

“Fuck Spiderman.” You interrupted, feeling angry and letting the tears continue to their own volition. You weren't much of a crier, so you couldn't help but wonder if this was how Venom’s emotions were manifesting. “He fucking… he doesn’t deserve you, after all you done for him. How could he just do that to you?” You took a deep shaky breath, cutting it short when you heard the door knock.

Food is here?

“Yeah.” You sniffed again, rubbing at your eyes and making your way to the door. You opened the door and saw a cute ginger wearing the logo of the website you bought the steak off of, and she looked cheery until she saw your most likely red teary face.

“Are… are you okay?” She asked, quickly looking back at the sticky note in her hand and to your door number, as if to make sure she had the right door.

“Yeah. Ex troubles. Sorry, I hope you got change.” You wiped at your eyes again with one hand while passing her the hundred, and she quickly dug into her pocket to make change. She said some number that you didn’t bother to listen to, and you gave her and extra ten for the trouble before taking the bag and uttering a quick thank you. The door closed slightly louder than you intended, but you dropped the bag onto the table next to your couch, and you sat heavily on the cushions.

Do you hate Spiderman, for what he did to you?

Venom asked, shocking you at that question. “For what he done to me? No, the worst thing he’s done to me is not notice me. That is disappointing as hell, seeing how I would have died without you, but that… I can’t be angry at him for that. If that was the case, then I might as well be angry at every hero for not noticing me when I was dying.” You ran a hand through your hair and leaned back, thinking and feeling the confusion in the back of your head.

“No, I fucking hate him for what he did to you. ” You ground your teeth. You could feel Venom’s surprise at that, but they grew quiet and still in your thoughts. Eventually the smell of the steak seeped through the bag, getting your attention. “Enough of that asshole, let’s eat.” You quickly pulled out the delivered food, pleasantly surprised at the surplus of fries they gave you along with your rare steak.

You started eating, the flavor of everything was wonderful. The steak practically melted in your mouth, a hint of honey tickling your senses as you swallowed. Venom seemed to like it as well, satisfaction hanging in your mind almost like a haze as you ate. The fries were just the right crispness, no ketchup needed with their delicious salted flavor.

You reached for more of the fries, to suddenly notice they were all gone. You blinked out of your haze, and apparently the steak was gone already as well. “Aw.” You uttered, shoulders dropping ever so slightly. “No leftovers.” That did surprise you slightly, seeing how much food you had, and how it felt you only had a few bites.

Was very good.

“It was. Shame this place is so expensive, else I’d say we could do this like as a weekly thing…” You considered a moment, but shook your head. “I’ll see if I can make you some steaks myself later on. I’m not much of a cook, but you probably like that more than you would my usual meals.” You looked at the empty tupperware with longing eyes before shutting it up, stuffing it back in the bag, and dropping it into the trash.

You stood in the quiet room, looking around for a moment. You didn’t really know what else to do, and you yawned, apparently sleepy from the meal. That wouldn’t do, you didn’t want to ruin your sleep cycle even more than it already was. You gently slapped the sides of your face, pulled your arms up in a stretch, and swayed side to side to wake yourself up more. Bending down, you touched your toes much easier than usual, and you stood up again and just swung your arms around.

Then you noticed that you arm was no longer hurting.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at your shoulder. Venom was no longer making that area dark and sticky looking, instead it was just your plain pajamas. “Oh, are we better now?” You asked, rubbing the area and not feeling any soreness.

Was better by the time food showed up.

“You can heal that quickly?” You asked, amazed. You gently pulled back the collar of your pajama shirt, looking at your perfectly normal looking skin. Not even a scar where you were stabbed.

Was small wound. Easy.

“Oh listen to you. ‘It was just a stab wound. No big deal.’ Do you have any idea how long it takes for people to heal normally? Once I stepped on a nail and my foot was messed up for like a month.” You laughed, not enjoying the memory of basically needing to hop everywhere in the house.

That long?

“Yeah, like, I don’t know how these heroes do it. They get stabbed or shot, then the next day they are back at it. I mean, I get that a lot of them have armor or advanced healing, but I am surprised more of them aren’t out of commission every time villains show up, you know?” You shook your head.

Don't need to worry for us any more. No out of commission. Just small rests and will be fine.

“And there you go, being more amazing.” You smiled and motioned to the window. “But anyway, now that we are better, should we go out and meet you friend?”

Yes, my… friend.

“Way to make them sound ominous, dude.” You commented. “But yeah, let’s go. We need to get that bit of you back.” You stepped towards the window, and felt Venom’s tendrils swirl around and embrace you completely. It was starting to feel like a full body hug more than anything at this point, and you resisted the urge to try and hug them back.

Instead you climbed out of the window with more grace than the first time you tried, watched as your limbs vanished from your sight, and again, leaped into the air. You let out your webs and swung, smiling happily as you felt truly free traveling across the city.

“So... your friend.” You started, looking towards the direction you had a vague feeling in. “You didn’t really tell me about them. I assume they are a villain, you sure they are going to help us?”

… Hopefully.

“Oh that’s a good sign.” You said with playful sarcasm. “That’s alright, I trust your decisions. Whatever you need me to, I’ll try my best for you.” You said, and you thought you felt confusion in the back of your mind. The two of you swung quietly through the buildings, enjoying the rushing air, the sounds of the city, the gradual increase of traffic as most people started leaving their jobs. You had no idea where you were heading, yet you could just feel a pulling in a direction. You hoped that was Venom’s “friend,” even if you were a little concerned about meeting a friend that needed quotation marks.

You wondered if they were a regular supervillain, or an alien too? What if they were just a regular person Venom genuinely liked as a friend? You found that thought hilarious. They were probably some little girl in a tutu, and she had a pet dinosaur. You laughed out loud, thinking of hypotheticals.

Your laughter was cut short when you saw someone else swinging past the buildings and catch your eye. You changed course and sped up, just in time to make out Spiderman casually swinging down another street. Your anger immediately boiled your blood, and you couldn’t wait to give him what he deserves.

Mustn’t kill Spiderman!

“I would never kill him! Doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a punch to the face for what he done to you!” You smiled, pulling on your webs with a new goal and launching yourself feet first at the moving red and blue target. “Or maybe a kick would do!” You shouted, adrenaline flooding your system.

“Did I just hear someone-” Spiderman mid-swing turned to face your direction, just in time for your camouflaged foot to connect to his jaw. The kick sent him flying down, crash landing in someone’s rooftop garden. You laughed and quickly corrected your course, sending a web to nab the corner of a taller building so you could grab ahold of the bricks. You felt the camouflage drop as you looked down at Spiderman, who was slowly picking himself out of the dirt, seeming very confused.

“That’s for breaking my friend’s fucking heart!” You yelled down at him, unable to help the absolute satisfaction from kicking the jerk in the face. He shook his head, scattering dirt to the ground, and looked up to see who shouted. Apparently he wasn’t expecting Venom, as he jumped ever so slightly, hands widening at his sides.

“I’m guessing that isn’t Flash, but that didn’t sound like the new guy either!” Spiderman called up. You could see him nervously looking side to side, probably assessing damage control. He looked back to you, seeing you still posed and ready at the corner of the tower, and he was apparently somewhat confused at the fact you weren’t attacking him more. “Did… did you want something? Or was this… it?” He made sure to keep his voice loud enough to make it to you.

“Are you in a rush for something? Burning building? Girlfriend in trouble?” You asked, just wanting to make sure you weren’t endangering more people with getting some petty revenge.

“Not… not that I know of.” Spiderman held up his hands, even more visibly confused now.

“Good.” You shouted, jumping from the corner and landing heavily on the flowerbed a few yards from Spiderman. “Didn’t want to waste your time.” You laughed and looked down at him. He… seemed taller on tv. He half readied his arms now that you decided to get close, but you could tell he was too busy trying to calculate what exactly to do. Did no villains hold a casual conversation before a fight?

“Wasting time… on what, might I ask?” The whites of his eyes squinted in a way that suggested a raised eyebrow. You flexed your fingers, getting ready to act, and you became very much aware at the lack of influence your actions had. Venom was quiet in the back of your mind, waiting.

“Oh you know, justice for a friend, kicking your ass, that sort of thing.” You casually said, but before you gave him enough time to react, you reached out and webbed a metal table from the roof, swinging it at him. He easily jumped and flipped over it, landing on some fencing gracefully. His arms reached out, and you instinctivly ducked and turned, just nearly doging two streaks of webs flying past.

“Listen! I don’t know who your friend is, but that suit of yours is alive!” He said, jumping and firing more webs at your feet, but you sidestepped and pulled the table back in time to take two of the shots. “You need to get it off of you!”

“And what, try to abandon it like you did?” You kicked the back of the table, launching it in his direction. He barely ducked out of the way, making the metal table burry itself halfway into the brick wall behind him. Damn, you kicked that hard. But maybe that was because you were getting angrier the more you talked to Spiderman. “You didn’t even give it a chance to explain itself!” You half growled through teeth, webbing a bag of fertilizer and acting like a trebuchet, launching it at him.

“Whoa!” He jumped to the side, turning his head to watch as the bag literally exploded into dust against the bricks, the residue falling to the streets below. “Not good.” You heard him mutter. He jumped off of the building, web flying to another building, and he started to quickly swing away.

“Hey! I didn’t kick your ass yet! Get back here!” You shouted, quickly following behind. The two of you weaved between buildings, Spiderman taking the lead and turning corners every chance he got, and you just barely noticed him checking over his shoulder as he did so.

He is leading us to Bad Place.

“Fuck you Spiderman! You hurt my friend, and now you are manipulating us again!?” You shouted, taking an extra second to calculate where to web, and taking the shot. The web barely latched onto Spiderman’s foot, but it was enough, and you pulled. He yelped as he lost grip on his own web, swinging to your will as you yanked it.

Glass shattered as you swung him into some business building, and you could hear shouts of people. Whoops. Oh well, corporations were paid too much anyway. You jumped down and webbed a window, gracefully arching and swinging into the broken opening, apparently perfectly in time to kick Spiderman as he was picking himself up again. He was punted back, crashing into a support pillar. Damn! You had some serious firepower out of nowhere!

You felt good. Real good.

There were a few people in this what appeared to be an office space, but they were quickly running to the exists, no one seemed to be hurt from you hurling a body through a window. Good. Spiderman struggled to pull himself out of the plaster of the support pillar, crumpling to the ground and coughing.

“Hm. I didn’t go overboard, did I?” You asked, glancing around at the destruction of the small area momentarily. You noticed a few computers on a desk nearby that must have belonged to security, due to the fact that cameras of different views were cycling through the screens. You were about to look away, interest being sated, when one of the screens turned to the room you were currently in, and you felt taken back. Why the fuck did you seem… so much bigger?

Before you could question that in more detail, your vision went white as web sprayed your face, and you recoiled. “I hope you liked those few shots, because that’s all I’m giving you!” Spiderman shouted, and you felt something heavy collide with you. Whatever it was broke as it hit you, but still made you stumble backwards, and your back hit the desk and knocked over some of the monitors.

You quickly pulled the web off of your face, anger building. “Not even close! You need one more solid smack to the face before I’m through with you!” You shouted, grabbing the desk with your hands to throw at him, but his webs sprayed out, sticking your hands to the desk. You gritted your teeth, using its weight to your advantage and tried to just crush him with it instead. He ducked between your legs as the desk shattered against the ground, and more webbing shot onto your hands. You realized your mistake a moment too late, when he pulled and you fell forward, flipping hard onto your back on top of the wreckage.

“Could you really smack a face like this?” He asked, hovering his masked face above yours. You growled and tried to grab him, but his webs were faster, covering your face and hands and making you lose him in the moment. You yelled and felt your fists expand, bursting through the webbing as you tore it from your face, and you jumped to your feet.

“With what you’ve done? Easily!” You swiped at him, but he seemed too lithe to get near as he flipped and ducked out of your attacks. “You hurt my friend!” Swipe. “You lied to them!” Miss. “You manipulated them!” Duck. “And when they were happy, you couldn’t leave them alone!”

Spiderman jumped onto the ceiling, and paused. “Wait, this might be a stretch here, but is you friend the symbiote?” You took advantage of the still target, grabbing his leg before he could react. You held him in front of you and he quickly struggled in your crushing grip.

“ Yes. ” You hissed between your teeth, smacking him hard with the back of your other hand, sending him crashing through another window.

You watched him fall out of view, only for him to appear a few seconds later, quickly webbing away down the streets. You didn’t give chase though, and instead took a moment to breath while surrounded by all of the destruction. It was then, that you could feel how tight Venom felt. They felt less like a second skin, and more of a too small wetsuit. It hurt, just slightly, and made you stagger and lean against part of a broken desk.

“H...hey. Is everything okay?” You asked, feeling the drowning sensation even more now. You started to feel the edges of fear, but not so much for yourself, but for your other. Did something happen with it? Was this too much for it?

Everything is better than okay. We’ve had hosts that were angry with Spiderman before, and that anger made us stronger, but this is different.

“How so?” You asked, instinctively trying to swallow the drowning sensation away to no avail. It was warm, too warm.

We never had someone angry for us before.

The tightness seeped into your skin, and you had troubles determining where exactly you were suppose end and Venom begin. “A… And? What does… what does that mean?” You felt short of breath, your vision shaking ever so slightly as your world rang louder and louder, drowning out everything. The sound of your heavy breathing, the sound of the desk collapsing under your weight, the sound of you hitting the ground, all being drown out by the ringing.

And the ringing stopped.

The bond we have will last a lifetime.

#Venom #Venom x reader #venom fanfic #reader insert #spiderman #i lost my fucking tablet pen #i cant find it anywhere aaaaaaaa #so im distracting myself by writing #it helps me emotionally lmao #venom o us

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findingmypeace · 8 years ago

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I was tagged by @thepsychologyjourney Rules: List your 9 happiest moments in 2016 or 9 things you were grateful for and then tag as many people as you want. With my depression the way it's been it may be hard for me to think of 9 things but I want to try. 1)This made me feel good about myself: I got a raise at work in February and then got another raise a few months later. It made me feel appreciated and like I was doing good work. 2)I am grateful to have such an excellent treatment team. My therapist is the best outpatient therapist I have worked with since S. My psychiatrist has known me since high school and knows exactly what I need to hear. My dietitian has never judged or acted disappointed in my slow progress. In fact, she never fails to point out something I positive I have done each week. Without their support I think I would be lost right now. 3)I have slowly began to repair my relationship with my Mom. This is probably the best our relationship has ever been. I'm still working through issues regarding our relationship in therapy but I'm not letting that get in the way of our present relationship. 4)It's bittersweet to add this and I thought about leaving it out but it was still a good part of 2016. I spent 11 out of the 12 months working in a adolescent residential group home for male substance abusers. I got to expand my skills as a therapist, I felt like I was making a real difference in some of my clients lives, and I enjoyed the work I was doing, for the most part. (Obviously there is a whole other negative side to this one but I'm not going detail it here.) 5)I am grateful that even though my sister is 2000 miles away we have grown emotionally closer through our weekly e-mails. I love her and I can't wait until she comes home in April. 6)My birthday was pretty good this year. Not the actual day but when I celebrated it. I had the day off work and my Mom and I got mani/pedi's, went out to lunch, and then went thrift store shopping. I was a relaxed fun day with my Mom. I craved this kind of experience with my Mom for decades and it's nice that I get to experience now after all these years. 7)I'm branching out with friends ever so slightly. Social anxiety has killed my social life for a long time. But slowly I'm starting to meet up and even invite friends out. It's nice. 8)I've also started doing more recreational things on my own. My free time used to consist of being at home on my computer and watching TV. But in 2016 I've started doing other things in my spare time that actually have me leaving the house. I get my hair done or get a massage. I go to the mall. I even drove all the way to Calabasas to visit a friend at MN. 9)I can't believe I made it to number 9. I didn't think I'd be able to list anything. I guess that leads me to my final thing which is I'm starting to believe in myself. I stood up to my former boss because I knew I didn't deserve to be treated that way. I usually just stood there and took it but something in me was like "No, this is wrong." and said something about it. It was empowering albeit the aftermath was not quite so much. But in the moment it felt great to be able to stand up for myself. I'm tagging @accidentalkaos, @dandelion-vodka, @faithhopeloveandtherapy, @healthhappinessandhaylee, @inthemiddleof-lostandfound, @jordbeingbrave, @lostbutnowiamfound-24, @nomadic-egg, @prancingunicorns, @renewingkaitlyn, @theothersideawaits, @velvettruce

#personal #positivity

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youcantclipmywings · 4 years ago

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another crazy ass super late update w waaaay too much info

Hey y’alll... I’m kinda back? Sorry again for never being on this account. I want to be on it more but I get so consumed with my life and then I forget... not an excuse but an explanation.

TW for all the usuals (drugs, etc) plus fun high school bs cropping up 2 1/2 years later :)

So last time I updated I was excited about going back to school and was feeling really lost and alone, as well as hopeless about my romantic life and my really intense cravings to smoke weed. A lot has changed since then... lol

My school decided to only do online schooling, understandably, but it sent me into a horrible spiral when they announced that. The idea that I’d be stuck at home for another 5 months... I just couldn’t take it. There’s a reason I went to boarding school after treatment. My parents fucking suck!!!! So I was venting to one of my best friends (C) who lives in another country even though she goes to school in the US (we met in treatment) and she invited me to come stay with her and her family in that country for a few months just so I could get away from my family... and now I’m there! I have dual citizenship with that country and the US because one of my parents is originally from there, so she applied for me to get dual citizenship when I was born, and I still have family here. Anyways, I’m now starting week 2 of my quarantine (which ends on Sunday (sep 20th) but I’m so happy to be here. I needed to get away and COVID just isn’t as bad here and I feel less depressed and like life maybe isn’t that hopeless, which is exciting!!!

I have smoked a bit more recently but I’m trying to lessen it or make sure I’m only doing it when I’m interacting with friends (either in person or via facetime).

So, since I got to this country, there’s been a couple slightly interesting things occurring, relationship-wise. C is dating this guy and has been for the last 2 months and I guess he has a friend (J) who’s single and got really hyped when he found out C had a friend coming into town. C told him if he wanted to even attempt to be with me in anyway whatsoever he had to be my friend first and take things hella slow, but apparently he’s kinda a himbo so who knows if he’ll heed that warning. He added me on snap and told me he’s gonna take me out to a meal and later C told me he was bragging to her bf about how impressive it is that he said that (I think he’s kinda a fuckboy but C said her bf was initially too). Idk how I feel about any of this. I’m trying to not pass any judgment until I meet him a few times.

A few nights ago, I got a snapchat message from this dude (JB) I knew from junior/senior year of high school (after treatment). Now, when we were in high school we were best friends. I had a small group (A, M, JB, and myself) and we all hung out all the time and were super close. A and JB dated junior year and then almost dated again senior year but she kinda ghosted him last minute and started dating someone else. JB also dated two other girls our senior year (this info is all relevant I promise). JB and I were kinda like brother/sister- we got along really well and had similar sense of humor but there wasn’t any attraction between the 2 of us. He liked skinny, kinda crazy (in the whole “omg I’m so fucked up pay attention to me” obnoxious way where they aren’t actually mentally ill, just annoying) girls and I was overweight and even though I’m legitimately mentally ill, I’m stable and high-functioning, and also... he’s short (well the same height as me but I’m tall) and skinny and just not my type... but anyways there was no attraction there. After high school, we all kinda stopped talking. M was a freshman while we were all seniors (I stayed in contact with him and still consider him to be like a little brother- I love him sm he’s my lil baby), but I haven’t talked to JB or A much since. We all went off to college and started new lives... JB and I talked a bit over that summer between senior year of high school and freshman year of college and he did call me a few times throughout freshman year (holy fuck that’s when I started this acc......) but whenever he’d call he’d only talk about himself. He’d talk about how he was drinking too much and smoking too much and he’d say kinda racist shit about his girlfriend at the time’s exes (since they were black... I guess that reflected poorly on her in his mind... fucked up mindset in my opinion) and he’d never ask me about myself. I was in overwhelming, immense pain constantly because of my ankle... I was high all the time and drinking regularly too, while hiding it from everyone, including my therapist. I was in a dark place and there he was calling me to talk about himself for really long periods of time.

Anyways, I started avoiding his calls after awhile and then he stopped calling. He doesn’t know I had my ankle surgery. He doesn’t know I took a semester off of college to recover. He doesn’t know I met my genetic mom. He doesn’t know I’m struggling with some issues still. Then, in December 2019, the day after my mom had a heart attack, he started frantically messaging me on snapchat, begging me to talk. I told him that I couldn’t, that my mom was in the hospital and I was overwhelmed, that I had a ton of dr appointments and meetings and needed to make sure my mom was okay, but he wouldn’t lay off. I guess I felt some sort of loyalty towards him since we used to be so close, so I said “okay, you can call me anytime in the next 30 minutes, but that’s it” and he responded immediately, saying “I’ll call you in 5 minutes”. He never fucking called. After that, I decided I was done. He’s no longer my friend. And we hadn’t spoken since until a couple weeks ago where he messaged me and told me he missed me and I responded with a “yeah it’s been awhile” and then left him on read after he responded back with some other bs.

Then this past weekend, he messages me out of nowhere talking about how he misses me and again, I say “yeah, it’s been awhile”. He says that there’s been something he’s wanted to tell me for a long time and he wishes he would’ve said something when we were in high school. I asked what the fuck he was talking about and he was like “I wish we could’ve dated. You were always so nice to me and we got along really well. I thought you were beautiful, caring, funny, and sweet. We had the sense sense of humor and enjoyed doing the same stuff. I liked you a lot and wish we could have dated.”... I was like.. “Uhhh... what made you realize this?” and he said “Idk I just realized it now” and I was like “yeah I’m just a little shocked because it never seemed like there was any type of relationship vibes there” and he was like “really?” and I was like “dude... you literally dated 2 girls and almost dated a 3rd...” and he was like “I feel like I knew I liked you then” so at that point I facetimed my friend M and was like “did JB like me in high school” and he was like “nah he liked A and those 2 other girls” and I was like “yeah, he’s saying some bs and I just need confirmation that I didn’t miss any signs” and he was like “yeah you guys were just really good friends” so I messaged JB back and was like “so what motivated you to tell me this” and he said “I don’t know I just felt like I should tell you” and I was like “well where do we go through here”... now, I said this knowing he’d say he wanted to date. I didn’t want to date him but I did want to let him down easily. M had told me while we were facetiming that JB had dropped out of college and gone to rehab so he was obviously struggling. I think he’s just super lonely during quarantine and he’s reflecting on high school (when he last felt happy) and is creating something that wasn’t there in hopes that it’d be reciprocated and he’d feel less lonely. He and A both had relationship/intimacy issues and were both really hyperfocused on always being in a relationship, so I’m not surprised he’s still like that. I am surprised it’s gotten to a point where it’s delusional...

Anyways, he responded saying “where do you wanna go?” and I said “I asked you first” and he said “I want you wbu” and I said “I don’t know dude... I’m a super different person than I was 2 1/2 years ago and I’m sure you are too and I’m just not sure if we’d be compatible now that all this time has passed... also I live in a diff country now so we’d never actually see each other.” I know saying I live in a diff country now is kinda lying because it makes it seem like I moved permanently but I think it was necessary to get my message across so I don’t feel bad. He responded and he was like “yeah I guess that’s true” and I said “yeahhhhh” and he was like “I really want to be with you” and I said “I guess timing is everything” and he said “yeah I guess :(” and then I left him on read and that was the end of that conversation. I feel like a really good person for letting him down as nicely as I did because I felt like saying “nah I’m not fucking into you” especially since he’s been such an awful and selfish friend since we left high school, but I decided to be the bigger person because I know he’s struggling right now. And I feel sad that he’s reached a point in his life where he’s creating something that never existed because he’s so lost and alone and confused. I wish I could be there for him but I just can’t...

My therapist says I can be too loyal to people sometimes. Even when people hurt me, I’m still there and I feel like I owe it to them to stick around and support them. I pretend like I’ll drop anyone that hurts me, but it’s obvious I’m loyal since I’m still willing to treat this dude with more kindness in this one interaction than he’s given me in 2 1/2 years. I want to be a kind person but I don’t want to be loyal to a fault... I think it’s harmful and self destructive. I need to work on it.

Anyways, last night when I got out of the shower I had a towel wrapped around me and felt something weird and looked down and a giant spider was crawling around on my tiddy... I screamed so loud I’m surprised the family I’m staying with didn’t come running into the guesthouse from the main house to make sure I’m okay lol. I killed it with my textbook, which is now sitting in the corner of the room because I’m not in the right mental space to clean spider guts off a textbook after that whole ordeal.

C’est la vie...

#update #long one #tw drugs #tw drug use #men suck

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taoleiune · 8 years ago

Text

Still thinking about 13 Reasons Why

Since I posted way past my bedtime last night (this morning, technically) I figured I’d continue my thoughts today. This seems to be a good path to actually starting to write about anxiety, dermatillomania, OCD and mental health in general. A therapist once told me I have such good coping mechanisms for my anxiety I should write a book. I think a blog is much less intimidating and more flexible than a book. I’ve always wanted to write a book, but halfway through I tend to get bored or figure out the ending and lose interest. With a blog, I can post something completely different as often as I want.

I have been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, dermatillomania (skin picking) and I have definite obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) tendencies. I have a bachelor’s degree in psychology, where I focused as much as possible on anxiety. While I’m not qualified to give medical or therapeutic advice, I do know more than average about anxiety, especially my anxiety in particular.

I have been anxious for as long as I can remember. My fears and worries grew so all encompassing, I created an entire mythology to explain it. Some kids had an imaginary friend. I had an imaginary gargoyle who protected me from the faces in the wood paneling in my attic bedroom. I loved that room and happily played in it all day, but as soon as it got dark, those knots and swirls turned into menacing nightmare monsters. Even then I leaned towards magical thinking and superstition.

As a disclaimer, my belief system is complex, incorporating philosophies from many sources. I am not religious. I do not worship any god. But, I believe strongly in the validity of all religions and belief systems. The best way to describe my beliefs is with a Tom Robbins quote from Even Cowgirls Get the Blues: “I believe in everything, nothing is sacred. I believe in nothing, everything is sacred.” As I tell my story, I will explain more about how my beliefs have evolved. As for now, all that’s necessary is to know that before I was old enough for school, I had a gargoyle to protect me.

We moved into the suburbs, but my fears moved with me. I am an anxious person who isn’t afraid of the things most people are scared of. I like snakes, heights don’t faze me, and my curiosity drove me more than anything else. I am, however, afraid of all the little monsters in my head. I’m afraid of making mistakes. I’m afraid of how competition makes me feel, both winning and losing. I’m not sure which is worse. I’m afraid of losing control. Like many anxious people, I blush easily and hate every moment. I don’t like being noticed. I crave being noticed. I need to fidget. I am afraid of memories, because the ones that really stick are all the bad ones.

When I was old enough to properly answer a phone, my mom would have me answer it and take a message when bill collectors called. I was very often the one who answered the phone when my dad’s alcoholic friend called demanding to talk to him, even at three in the morning. Back then, caller ID was nonexistent, and then very very new. When the phone rang, it could be anyone. When the phone rings now and I don’t know who it is, I panic. I am terrified of phones, even though I’m now never without one.

I understand my mom’s anxiety almost as well as I understand my own. I’m not angry at this point about her behavior. Mostly, I’m sad. I can imagine how different her life would have been if she had allowed herself to be treated for her anxiety. But, she refuses even today. I’m not saying I’m better than her, (ok, maybe a little) but I know I’m definitely healthier.

Back to yesterday, and the realization that I am a rape survivor. Thinking back, my dermatillomania began to emerge right around that time. For the longest time, my skin picking, eyebrow and eyelash plucking was something I hated, was ashamed of, and didn’t understand. At the end of high school, I barely had eyebrows. I had plucked them almost completely out. Just today I noticed that for the first time in my memory I have almost a complete fringe of eyelashes. My face is almost clear. I have worked so hard on turning my attention to my face to positive actions. My chest, however, is full of scars and scabs from picking. One step at a time I will beat this. I won my eyebrows and eyelashes and face back. I will win my chest and my hands.

For those who don’t know what dermatillomania is (and for the longest time I didn’t know what it was either, I thought I was self harming), it is in the OCD family of mental disorders. It is an uncontrollable compulsion to pick at or pluck perceived imperfections in the skin or hair. It is often accompanied with almost a fugue state while picking. I have that particular flavor of the disorder. When I’ve been asked about it by doctors or therapists, they always ask what I’m thinking while I’m doing it. I’m usually lost in a story, a fictional narrative running through my mind, or a conversation on a deep subject in my head. Something sufficiently engaging to take me out of myself while I systematically destroy my face.

I am hoping that exploring the events surrounding the onset of my dermatillomania will help me come to terms with it and get it under control. But that’s the key, isn’t it. My anxiety is almost entirely centered on the need for control. So, would gaining control over one aspect of my mental illnesses make another mental illness worse? Is control a realistic goal? And there’s the feeling of being somehow special because of mental illness. I have anxiety that makes me miserable, gives me panic attacks, and is directly affecting my health and appearance, but it’s also a fundamental part of my identity. I wouldn’t know who I was without anxiety somehow being part of it. I don’t know if I would be ok with being ok.

I have access to a good therapist. I am on meds that work for me without unacceptable side effects. I have the most amazing doctor who actually cares about my health. I have a totally fantastic husband (there really are guys just like Clay in 13 Reasons. I’m married to one of them.). I have all the tools I could ever want to overcome my anxiety. But, I would be lost without it. What does that say about me?

For the longest time (until I became more experienced) after being raped (I still struggle with that word) as I was trying to convince myself I wanted it, every time I took a bath and would stare at my feet, the side view of my inner foot reminded me vividly of his penis. Before that, I had never actually seen a real, live penis. I was a virgin. I would imagine, fantasize, but when my mind’s eye lingered there, it would be a blank. After, my own feet betrayed me. Now, don’t worry, I don’t see penises in my feet nowadays. I’ve had more experience and am very comfortable with my sexuality. But, aren’t you tempted to look down, wiggle your toes, notice how your skin wrinkles and slides, and compare it to the penises you’ve encountered? It’s creepily similar in a vague sort of way. Or maybe I have way too vivid of an imagination. Either way, that was my experience long ago. One of those strange memories that stick with you. And I am very, very sorry if I’ve changed your perception of feet.

While I never put much stock in the value of virginity, I convinced myself to write off the experience as getting the label of virgin out of the way. I didn’t have to worry about losing this arbitrary state of being that hung over my teenage head anymore. It was gone. I had sex. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t fun. But, I wasn’t going to be ashamed of no longer being virginal. In the background of my mind, I was horrified and scared. Not of losing my virginity, but of doing it in such a horrible manner. To be preyed upon by a horny, arrogant boy who laughed and sneered with his friends the next day.

But, I have this remarkable ability to see the bright side of nearly every situation. It’s my primary defense mechanism. That, and humor. I would celebrate my loss of virginity. I would also identify as a lesbian. Being gay in high school in the 90′s was not fun. The sex was great, I felt safe and in control, I didn’t have to worry about encountering terrible penises. I kind of stumbled on to lesbianism. It started with a sleepover. In the dark, she took the immense risk of kissing me. I, of course, was oblivious until I felt myself kissing her back. It didn’t occur to me that it was unusual at the moment. It felt right and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I never saw the point of being in the closet. I’m honestly more closeted now as a heterosexually married bisexual mom than I was as a lesbian high schooler. But then, I had a tribe. I had friends just like me. Who felt the same fears, were bulled by the same people, who had the same heroes. We were Different, with the very proud capital D. Hell, there was even a whole parade and festival celebrating gays and lesbians. Sure, bisexuals and transgendered people are also part of that list, but we don’t seem to get the same kind of spotlight. Right now, it’s time for transgendered people to shine and for all of us to fight for their rights. But, bisexuals are still pretty invisible.

That’s a story for another day, though.

#13 reasons why #mental health #anxiety #ocd #dermatillomania #really long post #my story #triggerwarning:rape

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