#i am having the most hard time with myself ever

[sultrybaby]

Nothing Compares To Being In Love With You (S.G)

(pics are not mine. credit to rightful owners. divider also from pinterest)

summary🦢 In which a cluster of old letters stand as the only testament of gojo's love for you, from birth to (quite literally) death.

genre 🦢 romance, angst, some fluff

pairing (s) 🦢 gojo x reader | reader x naoya zenin

warnings 🦢 reader/main character death, MAJOR ANGST obviously, not exactly forbidden love but more unfortunate circumstances, domestic abuse, mentions of bleeding and punching (no actual description of the abuse this is unrelated bleeding and punching), excessive use of the word sin in one of the monologues, mentions of glass, naoya zenin sucks, letters are from gojo's pov which might be hard to follow I am not sure. Gojo is down bad.

DO NOT ROMANTICIZE ABUSE. THIS FIC (AND ME) DOES NOT CONDONE ROMANTICIZATION OF ABUSE AND IF U ARE LOOKING FOR FICS THAT DO (WHICH IS SICK) THIS IS NOT THE FIC FOR U AND ALSO PLS BLOCK ME CUZ EW.

a/n: this was supposed to be an enhypen fanfic but then I changed my mind. I'm honestly just shocked I actually finished this. Hopefully this idea has manifested to be as good as it seemed in my head and isn't confusing to follow. ENJOY BESTIESSSSS.

🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢🦢

"So apparently, this house belonged to a young bachelor once," explained Mary to her all-too-curious daughter eveline, who sat wide-eyed like a little lamb on the floor of the new house the family had just moved into.

'Really?"

"Yes, baby," Mary chuckled, running her fingers through eveline's (or evie, as they lovingly call her) hair to brush the strands away from her face.

"Where is he now?"

"Oh I don't know sweetheart," Mary sighed, lightly amused at the disappointment on evie's face.

"But maybe there are some clues around the house! If you ever get the time,  you should explore. Who knows, you might find something…"

Evie's eyes twinkled in excitement at the prospect of having an adventure in this foreign pile of bricks that she now had to learn to call home. Perhaps this will create a sense of oneship with the house.

Determined to uncover the secrets of the mysterious young bachelor, little evie started on her mission to unearth every corner of the building. After toppling boxes, crawling through crevices, and occasionally bumping her head on random walls, evie finally uncovered a rather absurd looking block.

And that is the story of how Mary was gifted this curious looking box by her exhausted daughter, waddling excitedly to show her the discovery.

The box had an old-fashioned grace to it. It was clearly disintegrating; cheap, fading, yellowed white  paint hung off the corners, all dried up, waiting to be chipped off. It seemed as if there was some kind of locking mechanism in the front of the box which has long been broken. All it took was a simple motion for the mouth of the box to open wide, revealing a neatly stacked set of what one could assume were letters.

The first letter was different to the others. While the rest were prettily folded, this one had a texture much more rough- as if it had been crushed and then straightened again. And on it, in extremely feathery ink, was written,

Dear ____,

You are the sun and the stars and the rose and the beautiful sky. You are made of the serenity of heaven and the tempting evil of hell. You are everything created to be beautiful, and you also make anything beautiful by association. Every day and every night, in light, in darkness, in life, and even now in death, you make me realize why Orpheus would go to the deadly underworld just to get Eurydice back. I understand his pain and longing.

I know we parted ways hurtfully and there is no action I regret more. And in my attempt to tell myself I hated you, I failed in my life's purpose- to truly let you know how much I loved you.

This is a memoir of the love I lost, a love that was but a bubble in air- shining briefly with all the most beautiful colours, then popping abruptly. And this is just an attempt at preserving some of that wonder and beauty so that when my heart aches a bit too much, I can cry to the essence of your soul (which is funny, because you are too much, too great, to be put into words).

Lovingly,

Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,

Satoru Gojo.

A love story- a tragic one, was etched in the letters following. In that little white box was the history of Gojo Satoru's love for this mysterious woman to whom he had devoted his heart entirely.

And so Mary started reading…

Dear ____

Today I decided that I would start attempting to put into words my love for you. In these scraps of paper lie not the true extent of my love- that would be impossible to boil down to mere letters- but just enough for my heart to no longer feel as if it is at the brink of explosion from the pain of carrying the weight of my love for you.

The first time I saw you was when I was rushing to work. What started off as a normal day turned into an irreplaceable, unforgettable memory when I heard an angelic voice bantering with a baker.

"Jesus Antonio a damned second grader could bake better bread in their sleep- it’s not worth more than a dollar a loaf. So I ain't paying any more than that"

I felt compelled by fate to turn around and figure out who was truly the source of this wildly amusing diatribe.

Saying that my eyes were unprepared to capture the beauty I was about to witness would be an understatement. I found myself unable to move, nailed to the ground as I took in the sheer magnificence of your existence. And then I blinked. And you were gone.

I remember shaking my head wildly to see where the angel had disappeared off to, and my heart sighed in relief as I saw your unmistakable figure walk with a triumphant smirk and a loaf of bread that you surely had not paid more than a dollar for.

Today marks the second year since we've known each other. Every day since I have carried the burden of my love with utmost pleasure, because loving you is the greatest experience of my life. Nothing compares to being in love with you. But every so often when I stare at you, hoping the longing in my heart doesn't show in my eyes, I wish you were mine.

Yours forevermore,

Gojo.

Dear ___

The first time we ever talked was in the same bakery I first saw you in, although I will admit it is not as much of a coincidence as it may seem. For every day since I saw you, I wandered around the bakery, hoping to catch a glimpse of your hair again.

First I would wander around the area, walking up and down the road multiple times.

Then I started to stick to the stores right next to the bakery. I bought so many snow globes that I really didn't need, not to mention all those picture frames…

Finally, picking up the courage to meet you, I walked into the bakery. I waited around a bit, but eventually it became clear that you were not making an appearance. Dejected, I decided to get something anyway. I had come to the bakery after all.

"Excuse me, how much for kikufuku" I'd asked

"That's be $3 good sir"

It was as I pulled the notes from my wallet that I heard a familiar voice shrieking,

"ANTONIO HOW DARE YOU RIP OFF THIS GOOD MAN?"

To this day it might be my favourite statement of all time.

I turned around to meet your eyes. All was a blur and before I knew it I had a loaf of bread in my hand along with two of the three dollars I was about to hand in.

"..hello?"

I blinked myself back to reality as I saw you waving your palm good naturedly in front of my face.

"Oh h-hi…"

I saw you giggle, probably at the sight of my extremely flustered face. I could feel the heat absorbing all common sense from my brain.

"What's your name, sir?"

"Sato- Gojo…Gojo Satoru…" I breathed out, "and you?"

"____"

I don't think you will ever realize how much that day changed me. And that's okay. I don't want you to feel the anguish I do. I just want you to keep smiling and giggling as you love to. Oh, and chewing off Antonio's ears, of course.

Yours forevermore,

Gojo.

Dear ___

I know we're just friends, but sometimes when you show up at my door with a bag of sweets that you just happened to remember were my favourite, I wonder if there is something deeper; if there is any possibility that you could feel what I feel. And when you hand me the bag, I wonder if I was just imagining the way your touch lingered as our fingers grazed, if I was just imagining your gaze momentarily resting on mine with the same intensity with which I look and think of you.

I know we're just friends, but then why is it that every moment we spend apart from each other feels like my heart is getting ripped out piece by piece? And I know that you would never experience the anguish I do, but then as we spend hours and hours on the telephone talking and laughing about anything and everything, I can't help but wonder if you would do this just for a friend. I again let myself hope that maybe, maybe you felt at least a fraction of the deep devotion I felt for you. But I would never, ever mention it. For the thought of losing what we have now, of losing the ability to experience heaven even in such simple ways, brings me fear that gnaws at my heart and soul. So I hide my worries and my wishes as I keep listening to the sound of your voice through the telephone.

I know we're just friends but do friends have such deep understanding of each other to the point where your wish is nothing but my instinct?

I know we're just friends but are the lives of friends so deeply intertwined in each other that when you lie next to them you can't sense where you end and they begin? When you can't remember if you're in your house or theirs for that is how much time you spend in each other's lives. At what point of spending every day together does my life turn into yours. ____  I don't know how I can go on living without telling you how much you mean to me.

I know we're just friends, but sometimes I feel the line blurring away when we're drunk and unstable and tangled in each other, both of us holding the other for support. And as we messily fall onto the floor, giggling at our pathetic state, I take the moment to cradle you in my arms. In your drunken frenzy you place the softest of kisses on my cheek, only to fall asleep on my shoulder immediately after. When I'm staring at you longingly I can't help but wonder, what are we? What is this love, this gentleness, this warmth? Is this friendship? Is friendship supposed to be so overwhelming? The weight of these questions momentarily crush me, but it all fades away as I stare at your beautiful being, peacefully snoring on my shoulder. And in that moment, all my worries take the backseat, and all I care about is protecting this peace of yours. Whether I do that as a lover or a friend is not a matter to me.

Yours forevermore,

Gojo.

This might be the last time I speak of my love for you, for today you told me that you love me too. So I no longer have to express it in secret, but I can let you know wholeheartedly.

I will never forget the way your head rested against my shoulder, nose-deep in your book. And as I failed to look away from you, I didn’t realize that you had turned to look at me too. I will never forget the way your hand rested on my shoulder as you pulled yourself up to look me in the eye, while I sat there stupidly, mesmerized by the way you moved, so gentle, so light, so ethereal.

Most importantly, I will never forget the way you cupped my face, the subtlest of tears shining in your eyes, and told me, breath hitching at every note,

"Satoru I don't know what I'm feeling. I know I shouldn't be feeling this but I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if you do either. It would kill me to ruin our friendship but this anguish is killing me too and so I'm going to kiss you now and if you don’t like it feel free to punch me"

You leaned forward, and just before you kissed me you stole a glance at my face. And that was when I let go of all the restraints I had placed on my heart.

It was something in the way that our eyes locked;  the brilliant world built on the lies of our hearts crumbling as I cried on your lips in prayer. Maybe this was sin, but the tears I drank were proof that underneath all the chaos hid something real, and it was hidden for no reason but the fact that the world my god created was also made of the same kind of sin as her touch, unprepared to accept the beauty of it all. Damn the preachers, look at her face. Will not the angels sing in her name? If God hated sin so, why did he give her the same beauty as that of his mountains and oceans and the moon? We all are born of sin and sinners at the hour of our death, but I alone had the privilege of being absolved by sin.

I love you, ___. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Yours forevermore,

Satoru.

Dear ___

I know I said I wouldn’t write more of these since I don’t need to hide my love for you any longer but it turns out I'm incapable of stopping my expression of devotion towards you. I love you in ways that I want to etch down. I want to world to know how much I love you. Even after we're dead and gone, I want these words to stay there forever, because that is the nature of my love for you. Permanent. Everlasting.

I love the way your pretty little hands smooth over my tensed shoulders when I've had a long day. Your chest against my back, your hands enveloping me from behind, the way you whisper into my ear has me wishing for nothing more than the moment to last forever. I love you.

I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you cup my cheeks like a child before kissing them. I love the way you kiss my forehead, the way you kiss my nose, the way you kiss my upper lip, my chin, my shoulder, my eyes. Every bit of proof that an angel like you could ever love me has me in awe, in reverence of how simple it is for you to have me wrapped around your little finger. I love you.

I love the soft little touches that are so characteristic of the way you love. I love the way you fix my messy hair. I love the way you pull me closer during cold breezes, claiming it is to keep me warm. And I stand there in adoration of how cute you look as you hide yourself in the crook of my jacket. And I embrace you in my warmth as if I could never let you go. I love the way you absent mindedly play with my fingers. I love the way you link your arms with mine. I love the way you lean in close to wipe something from the corners of my mouth. I love all of it I love you.

I love it when you're so happy that you do a little dance. I love it when you're so nervous about sneaking away from an important meeting with your family members and running to me that you keep spacing out a little, making that really cute zoned out face of yours. I even love your beautiful diamond tears, even if I hate what it is that made you cry, when you're frustrated with all that your mother and father want from you. I love you I love you I love you.

I love you so much, ___. I can only hope that I remind you of it enough.

Love,

Satoru

"Mama that paper is pretty crumplyy- Mama are you ok?"

Dear ___

No.

It can't be.

I keep telling myself it can't be but your words cling to my skin, the cacophony of which psychedelically revolve around my soul.

It can't be It can't be It can't be

“'toru… we can’t do this anymore. It’s over. I'm getting married.”

 “Married? You’re joking, right? Did your parents finally find some guy who fits their impossibly high standards?”

 “This isn’t a joke, toru, They have found someone. He’s a good match. Someone stable, responsible. I’ve… agreed to it.”

“Wait… you agreed to it? So you’re just… going along with it? After everything we’ve been through? After us?”

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is. My family expects me to marry someone who can provide stability, someone they can rely on. You and I… we were just… a dream.”

“A dream? That’s what this was to you? A dream? And you’re just going to… throw it away?”

“Yes I mean… toru, look at you. You live life as if you’re still a kid, as if nothing really matters. You laugh everything off, even the serious things, and that’s— That’s not what I need! I need someone who can give me certainty. Someone who can give me a future.”

“Certainty? Is that all I am to you, just some silly guy who can’t give you a future? Because I would have. I would have done anything to make it work, and you know it.”

“No, Satoru, you wouldn’t have, You’d have tried for a while, but eventually, you’d get restless. That’s who you are—you go wherever you feel like going, with no thought for consequences, no… no sense of commitment. And I can’t live like that.”

“You don’t know that! You’re deciding all this for both of us. You’re… you’re running away, choosing some path that someone else picked out for you. How is that the stability you want? It’s just… it’s just giving up.”

“No, it’s not giving up! You don’t understand. This isn’t just about you or me. It’s about family, tradition… things that are bigger than both of us. You’re acting like a child who thinks love is all that matters. Well, it’s not. Not in my world.”

 “I see. So you’d rather marry a stranger than even give us a chance? Than let me try to be what you need?”

“Gojo… I love you. But love isn’t enough to change everything. I wish it were. But it’s not.”

“Maybe you don’t love me as much as you think, then.”

“Don’t… don’t say that, I’ll never stop loving you, but I need to let you go. And you…You need to let me go, too. It’ll be easier that way.”

“Easier? You’re not making anything easier, trust me. I’ll never forget you. I’ll always wonder what we could’ve been… but you’re right, aren’t you? I’m just too silly, too carefree to matter.”

Naoya Zenin. The heir of one of the biggest families in the nation. Rich, powerful, handsome. Perfect. He was perfect it seemed. And so were you.

But the anger in my heart doesn’t still. Maybe because I don’t want to accept the truth- that I truly was never enough for you.

Because I know that you are not that perfect. Because it was your imperfection that I fell in love with. And the imperfect you casted the imperfect me away because you were imperfect in a way that everyone loved and I was imperfect in a way no one could bear to see. You were imperfect in a way that could be fixed by getting you married (as your wretched family never failed to mention) while I was…unfixable.

Broken.

We were both broken shards, and in our interweaved misery I deluded myself into believing we came from the same piece of glass. When you bled on me I drank your suffering, living through my burning throat just to hold you up. But you were always meant to be great, and I was not. And I told myself that I made you, breathed you into creation. That you were nothing without me. That the time I spent crafting your wings made me something, as if you had not discarded them as soon as you could. Your apathy was cruelty, your fame a testimony to the different seas of being that we are. And as I hung from the broken bridge I built, you flourished.

But in those fluttering moments when our eyes meet, those intense seconds where two frail souls reach out their hands in memory of what once used to be, of what once was the truth, I see that broken woman again. It makes me realize that you were a gorgeous vase dropped on accident, while I was a pair of rose tinted glasses broken in frustration. You were crafted to be beautiful, temporarily set back by fate, while I would forever just be a memory of the lies we tell ourselves.

But a broken vase can never be put back together, and someday, the world would know that your greatness was just a house of cards; fated to be toppled over by the dying breath of the frail strands that tied our hearts together.

Yours,

Satoru.

Dear ___,

I was so sure I understood, so sure that I was the one who’d been wronged. All I saw was you walking away, slipping through my fingers, and it burned—I let it fill me with anger, as if I was the only one hurt by it all. I couldn’t see past my own pain to realize you were scared. You weren’t breaking up with me because you didn’t care, but because you were… trapped.

The Saddest of stories are always of the happiest of people; the ones whose heart lit up at the sight of the world. But the world was too cruel to some of them, and love is never enough to carry one through the ugliness of this world we live in. And soon enough comes a time when looking at a glass of water causes heartache, and every light is so blinding that it physically pains you to get out of bed, and when all that lingers is the feeling of cold numbness inside. By then love is all forgotten, holding no meaning. No amount of care or happiness can fix the damage caused by the seemingly harmless boredom. Boredom then turns to dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction turns to hopelessness, and through all of this there are those who can put up the façade of a healthy life.

We never see them- or at least see them as they truly are. Sad, Bored, a little dead on the inside. It's not like they seem to be happy or cheerful either- just nothing out of the ordinary. But the ordinary deceives the mind, and we leave out those little moments when their face breaks and the tears slip and the bandaid falls of- not because the wound has healed, but because it has bled too much. And also because it is not the kind of wound that a bandaid can fix. But they ignore this, and keep sticking bandaids (sometimes loosely attaching the same one over) in hopes that it will one day work the way they expect. But this only causes the wound to turn toxic, until it turns numb. And you think this means it has healed, but it is only when it is slightly brushed against, and the unbearable pain jolts throughout, that you realize that its just gotten worse in silence.

I didn’t even think to ask if you were okay. I thought you were just cold, maybe even heartless, telling me you needed someone more stable, someone responsible. But now, I see that you were pleading for something I didn’t understand. You needed help, someone to see through what you couldn’t say. You needed someone who’d ask why you said those things, why you looked so… afraid. And I missed it. I didn’t stop to question why you had this sadness behind your words, this weight pressing on you. I was too focused on being right, on feeling betrayed, to see what was right in front of me.

I convinced myself that you just wanted a different life, something that didn’t involve me, when really, you were… struggling. I should have seen that the way you talked about him, about your 'future,' was hollow. I should have noticed how you’d say the word 'marriage' like it was a sentence, not a choice. And instead of asking you, instead of listening—I let myself believe you were leaving me for someone else, that you’d never loved me the way I loved you. I made it about me, when all you needed was someone who could see what you couldn’t say out loud.

And now, here I am, replaying every word, every conversation, and wondering why I didn’t ask the right questions, why I didn’t push just a little harder to know what was really going on. I was supposed to be the one who loved you. But instead of standing by you, instead of seeing your fear, I just… got angry. I made you feel like you were wrong for leaving me, when in reality, you were just trying to survive. You were terrified, and I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to realize you needed me.

So now I’m left here with nothing but regrets, wishing I had seen the truth, wishing I’d known enough to tell you I’d help, that you weren’t alone. And now… now it’s too late. And I’ll never forgive myself for that

If only you knew that I would have been there for you. When he hurt your body and your heart and mind, I would have been there. If I had known, an angel like you would not have suffered more than a mere second in the house of a tyrant. If I had known, you would be laughing in my arms instead of crying on his floor. If I had known, maybe you would still be here with me.

Naoya Zenin.

That monster. I always hated him, but I thought… I thought it was jealousy. Just me being petty. But now I see him, in my mind—the way he looked at her, the way he… possessed you, like you were some damn object. He never saw you, not the way you really were. No. To him, you were just something he could cage, something to crush under his control.

How could he do it? How could he look you in the eyes and destroy you? How could he even live with himself? You loved life; you loved people, loved him, once—God, that makes it worse. He didn’t deserve a second of your love. He didn’t even deserve to be in the same room as you, and yet he was the one… he was the one who had you, day after day. His hands, that sick, twisted mind—you suffered because of him. And he’ll never pay enough for what he’s done. No punishment, no hell is deep enough for him.

I should have seen it. All those times I got frustrated with you, thinking you were pulling away, that you were lying to me. But you weren't lying, were you? You were hiding it, hiding the pain… because you knew I wouldn’t understand. I’d always get so mad, so impatient, thinking you were just… playing games, trying to hurt me. But you weren't. You were crying for help, and I just walked away, time after time. I thought I was so… righteous, so hurt. I thought I deserved the truth, that I had the right to be angry.

But I didn’t see your pain, did I? I never stopped to look closer, to ask you if you were really okay. I didn’t see how you’d flinch when he’d call, how you’d go silent, like you were somewhere far away. You were in hell, and all I cared about was my own heart. I was supposed to protect you, and instead, I pushed you back into his arms. I let you go back to him, and now… now you're gone."

And there’s nothing I can do to bring you back. Nothing I can do to make up for the times I failed you, for not listening, for not… seeing. It’s too late. I lost you forever. And it’s my fault.

I'm sorry, love.

Yours forevermore,

Satoru.

Dear ___

Today I watched you buried. I couldn’t see your face, as I maintained my distance, not trusting myself to be able to bear to be next to the ones who allowed you to be hurt. Moreover, I refuse to believe that you are gone. You're in my heart, and you always will be.

But as the day descended into night, and the yard was empty for miles, I dared to come close.

And I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I don't know when the hot tears started falling, mind blank as my knees thumped against the cold hard ground. And suddenly, all the agony clutched at my throat till I couldn't breathe, and I sobbed. I sobbed and bawled till I couldn’t feel my breath anymore. I needed the pain out of me but I didn't know how and in a vain attempt to ease the pain I punched and punched the ground as if it would cause you to come back to life again. As if it was the fault of the earth for taking you away from me. I cried hideously and clawed monstrously at the ground, but nothing changed. I rested my head on the grass in exhaustion, and thumped my head against the ground in anger as the tears kept falling. But even as I choked on the soil, nothing changed. I was still alone except for the company of the solitude taking pity on my pathetic state. I could feel the nothingness embrace me, comforting me, for I was truly alone in the world now, and I could feel it to my core.

And although my heart is numb and even as the bruises on my fingers from punching the floor bleed onto the page, I cannot stop myself from writing. I write and write and write because these letters are the only thing keeping you alive and I'm afraid if I stop then you will truly be gone and that can't be it can't be it can't.

 Because no matter where you are, my heart still beats for you. And despite the pain that follows the realization that yours no longer beats at all, I want to live forever. I want this simple heart of mine to thrum in your honor until the end of time. So that I can keep the feeling of being in love with you. So that I can, just for a moment, remember that I had the honour of being in love with you. Because nothing compares to being in love with you.

Yours yesterday, today, and forevermore,

Satoru.

a/n: hope you enjoyed. ive never written for jjk before and although ive watched the show and am familiar w the manga idk if this is ooc im sry. i have wanted to write for jjk for a while now tho so i am glad i did. i love angst if you couldnt tell btw.

[docholligay]

So, the true and glorious story of my own failure in the face of knowing how my own body works, despite having lived in it for 38 years.

Last night, I expected to be at least moderately on edge. I pretty reasonably decide that I would be better served to fall asleep and find out what life looks likein the morning. i'm not young any more (my wife worked for the Kerry campaign, I've been volunteering politically since the first Obama campaign. To date ourselves) and so, i don't stay up for results anymore.

Very reasonable.

So I take a pot pill. Great. i take it about two hours before i want it to hit.

I make the mistake of checking the results right before I head to bed, and while everyone is embroiled in hope, I see that I was exactly right about my initial impressions, months ago. That i got in trouble for! Anyhow.

Anxious, i go, "I gotta take something else" I have a bottle of .5 mg pills of lorezapam I've had for a decade, and I take one.

A pot pill, for me, is a quarter of a gummy. That's 2.5 mg. You may notice that between the two of these things, the dosages are very small. This is because my brain is wired bizarrely, and some things have a tendency to hit me harder than they do normal people. I know this. I know this!

Neither of these things have ever caused me any unusual symptoms. I just go to sleep.

But I am stupid. i have never met me, apparently. This body is new to me! I combine them.

My brain is so fucked that I have to do a patch test any time I try a new drug like I am VINTAGE CHINESE SILK. I know this, very well. That very night, I told Mike and Teddy I wasn't really going to drink because pot and alcohol can make me go full, "The Senate is lying to us!" So I know I have to watch it with combining stuff.

And y'all know me! I am not a teetotaler! I have sampled many fine drugs over the course of my existence. DARE made me think, "Wow that sounds cool." I am not a square. I am not suggesting straightedge behavior. This song did not work on me.

So I, forgetting the very makeup of my body, take this tiny, ridiculous lorazepam on top of my pot pill. It is the dosage my wife gives a twenty pound dog. it is a thing I have taken before.

But not together.

I crawl into bed, and I begin to get sleepy. Fantastic.

I roll over.

Oh. No.

My skin is alive, all of a sudden. I can feel every inch of it beneath the covers, where it touches on each individual wrinkle of the comforter.

"fuuuuuuck." I whisper between gritted teeth. Because, you see, I've done this to myself before. Not with this specific combination, but I have mixed things before, or just taken things, that make me aggressively aware of my surroundings. I am SO AWARE. There's nothing to do, once it reaches this point.

I have to wait it out. I pull myself up, and thump my twenty pound blanket on top of my body--which does help--and spend the next five hours riding each wave of hyperawareness, breathing through it, because it will end, like most hard things, and I am trying not to laugh at myself while it's happening. I know better! I know better!!

Finally it does wear off a bit, in just enough time for me to realize that I was right all along and the election has not gone my way.

38 years and I've learned nothing.

[studentbyday]

{ 05.11.24 } · { 50 days of routine } · { day 7 }

I was never “popular” at school. Not that I ever cared to be. I don't have the personality for it. And I don't really care to have the personality for it either. I'm not and never will be That Girl™ material, a “high-value woman”, or whatever feminine persona is trendy on TikTok these days (and i'm not even ON TikTok, but ofc the trends spread everywhere like wildfire) because I don't look the part (nor do I want to...i quite like my personal style) or think or speak or act the way she would if it goes against my values and/or it won't actually improve my wellbeing. I say I don't care. And I really truly don't because a lot of it and what it leads to is straight-up problematic for my personal case, running counter to the life I want to live and all my reasons why. But as with anything, being yourself has its pros and cons.

Sometimes I still feel like it's hard to truly belong anywhere...even the places I make for myself like this blog... Sometimes when I feel like this, I feel like the only place I most belong is in my head. It's not good. That's not where I need to be, nor do I need to be much concerned about trends on social media and what drives people to follow them. And I certainly don't need to compare myself to anyone else. I need to be in the real world and focused on my work only because I think it's worth it and because I think I'm worth it as I am.

I'm not sure why I felt like saying this.

~~~Friendly PSA: STOP 🖐🏻 scrolling social media of any kind when feeling low in self-esteem.~~~

got up at 7, continued filling in the CBT workbook then decided to move my answers elsewhere because the annotating feature in the ebook app is getting annoying, started my day at 8 with the usual minimalist morning routine

10/30 mins of the same beginner pilates workout i did a few days ago except i forgot to breathe and ended up so light-headed i couldn't go anymore...

filling in CBT workbook because i can't get the reflection questions out of my head until i answer them... 😣 so far, nothing new has been revealed to me, but in the busy-ness of the day-to-day, i tend to neglect ALL the other dimensions of my life and then forget that that's why i feel so shitty and the problem is the self-prompted reflection i tend to do at this time carries a lot of negativity and pessimism and comparison and judgment and it's not very organized, it's actually not organized at all, it's always just a word vomit. but when i do it now, with the tone of the categorized prompts not being judgy at all, i'm able to look at my problems more objectively and holistically and like "oh okay, i'm not doing as bad in this dimension as i thought and the REAL problem is this other dimension of life and all the specific things you mention are lacking here" and idk, sometimes i think it's weird that my brain works this way, it's like i was looking at the same picture the entire time and all i had to do was turn it a bit to the left for it to make sense. is this how brains normally work? 😅

finished last week's microbio module

researching for global health assignment...will begin writing tmr 😅👍

finished section 1/2 of last week's immunology module and started the loooong second section 🥴👍

🎧 some nights – fun.

@zzzzzestforlife tagged me to do this picrew! it was fun. and it's so coincidental that i've been thinking about ghosts lately! the past versions of us that we follow without question when they tell us what to do, what not to do, and what we should aspire for... ☁️ sometimes those ghosts are right...and sometimes they're just plain toxic.

tagging @whenmemoriesfrost @chemblrish @ecologie-txt @winryrockbellwannabe @obakanosandoitchi if you want to :)

[originallandlockedmariner]

Today seemed like a good day to do this class exercise…

IF YOU REALLY KNEW ME:

“You would know…

I started cutting myself a few months ago, and I hate it, but I can’t stop.

I feel so unlovable and I’m always lonely.

My grandfather is in jail because he tried to kill my family.

I’ve struggled and suffered my whole life with experiences that really forced me to grow up too quick.

I am terrified that people will judge me and it destroys my self-esteem.

I think no one will ever love me for who I am only who I pretend to be.

I need help in school, but I’m too embarrassed to ask so I just struggle quietly.

My best friend is in a coma, she has been like that for over 22 days and before her accident, we stopped speaking so all I feel is deep shame and guilt.

No one knows that I have a rare form of cancer, I’m struggling every day, but I don’t want anyone to know.

I can’t get rid of the feeling that I am my mom’s least favorite kid, I know she loves me, but I think she only takes her anger out on me.

I’m always seen as the friend even though I don’t like being around people and I don’t know how to change that.

I definitely struggle with body image and eating, so I work out twice a day every day and restrict my eating to compensate for it.

I always feel I’m not good enough for my family and my friends and teachers.

I am extremely fragile for a man I can sense tones, and people and most of the time find that I think everything is my fault.

Struggle to get out of bed every day I just hide in my room and feel sad and useless.

My relationship with my father is very hard because he hasn’t been there for me and would rather go out with his friends and drink, then take care of me and my family.

I feel like I’m drowning, constantly no matter what I do to stay afloat at school or at home and I’m always compared to my brother who seems to have his shit together.

I lie all the time as a reaction and I can’t stop myself, I want to be honest, but I think it’s too late.

I feel like normal ever love me as much as I love them, and I will be alone forever.”

[ivycats31]

ugh

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[lunarharp]

"Found out" set in kind of a made-up chapter where the girls are in trouble, or something.

[orcelito]

Super sexy me is so sexy I accidentally set off the fire alarm while baking pie shells for my pumpkin pie. And now I don't know if I should've even baked them in the first place. But well. Too late now 👍

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[purpurussy]

.

[eruditegeek]

I feel so disconnected all the time.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

why is everything (showing other people respect. being patient and kind. not flying off the handle about stupid things. emotional regulation and self-control. et cetera.) so easy when I'm not around my parents and so so so so hard when I AM around them?

[bunnihearted]

🍷

[martianbugsbunny]

I am going to continue believing that Kalluzeb will appear in the Ahsoka show together because I may look like a stupid clown bitch but it will take a better man than Dave Filoni to pry my sense of optimism and hope out of my cold dead hands

[sophiethewitch1]

in my hater era