#i decided today to start a journal for this. that way i'll be able to see when my friends actually accept offers to hang out

[astranauticus]

todays orv mood: standing at the water dispenser under my dorm building waiting for my instant noodles to cook just pacing in circles and swearing

[kindnessoverperfection]

Some recent wins:

-Sang loudly and off-key with my partner. We were both laughing to tears. I was sober.

-Found myself actually thinking about musical theatre today. For myself, for my own interest in it. I wasn't chasing it for a narc high, nor avoiding it due to a crash. It's been a long time since I've thought about my interests for my own sake.

-Invited my friends to hang out

[dragon-kazansky]

Veil of the dreamless

Morpheus x Reader

A cursed Morpheus holds your father prisoner when he enters The Dreaming without permission. You, also able to enter the realm, take his place. Now a prionser to the Dream Lord, you do all you can to learn about the curse and hopefully break it.

{Masterlist}

{Next Chapter}

Chapter One - Village of the dreamless

☆☆☆

In a small village in the English countryside you lived with your father in his workshop. You had lived there all your life.

When your mother passed away your father threw himself into his inventions. The money he made from them was enough to keep a roof over your head, and it kept you fed.

You love your father. He is a wonderful man. There is nothing he wouldn't do for you.

You come downstairs and smile as you see him hunched over his desk. He's working on the clockwork of your cuckoo clock. The one he made you before you were born. Every so often, it needed fixing up.

"Is it going to work?" You ask, kissing his cheek softly and looking at all the parts.

"It will. Just needs some replacing."

You smile and grab your basket. "I'm going to head into town. Do you want anything while I'm out?"

"No, dear. I don't think so."

You chuckle softly and take your leave.

The village was alive today. People shopping, running errands, children playing games in the street. It was a lovely little village where everyone knew everyone.

Your dearest friend Robert, or Hob as you called him, was just opening his book store. He waves at you come over.

"Good morning."

You chuckle softly. "Morning, Hob."

"I have that book you asked for." He grins.

"Oh, thank you! I'll come get it on the way back."

"I'll hold it for you. How's your father?"

"He's well. Working hard," you tell him.

"Tell him I said thank you for mending my radio."

"Of course."

You wave at him as you walk on, a smile on your face. You pick up some groceries and some fresh bread from the bakery. You window shop at the tailor's and make a wish st the fountain in the square. On your way back, you pick up the book and leave Hob some goodies you picked up earlier.

As you make your way back home, you pass the tavern. It was early yet, but there was a woman waiting outside. She looked up at you and smiled as you walked past. You smiled back, trying to be friendly. The way she looked at you caused a shiver to run down your spine. You looked away to focus on the path, but risked a glance back. She was gone.

You shook it off and carried on walking.

Your father was still working away on his inventions when you returned. You put the groceries away and decided to start that book Hob gave you.

It's an old book about dreams. A rumoured realm called 'The Dreaming' or 'The Dreamscape'. Apparently, a long time ago, such a realm existed, and it allowed people to dream at night. Dreams were unheard of. Except for the kind which are considered wishes for the future, but as for Dreaming while asleep, they were not real. No one ever saw images or people or places while asleep.

You went to sleep, and you would wake up again later. That was it.

The concept of dreaming was fascinating to you. You recall a memory from your childhood. A memory of your mother. She once claimed she could dream, as could your father, but he always denied such a thing. People thought she was crazy. She would ask you every morning if you had dreamt, but your answer was always no.

She would smile and say "maybe next time."

Eventually, she got sick. They called it the Sleepy Sickness. She never woke up, and eventually, she died. Your father was distraught.

The idea of dreaming had played on your mind long after she passed away. When Hob opened his bookstore, you searched every shelf for anything on dreaming. He claimed to have nothing, but be knew of such a book.

It took him months to get it. Now it was in your hands.

A realm. A palace. A king.

It was hard to put the book down. This book was written long ago. The pages were handwritten. It was more of a journal than anything.

You're not sure how much time has passed. At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake, it's dark out. You find the book open on the sofa beside you. It had slid off your lap. You close it gently and grab it as you stand. You're about to make your way up to bed when you spot your father hunched over his desk. You chuckle.

"Father." You gently try to shake him awake. He doesn't budge. You chuckle and decide to just leave him. He has slept at his desk before.

You head on up to bed.

The next morning, you come downstairs, ready to make breakfast for you and your father. You reach the bottom stair and say cheerfully, "good morning, father!"

You are met with silence.

"Father? Good morning."

Still nothing.

You look around the house. He is not at his desk. He is not in the kitchen. He is not in the garden or near the vegetable patch beside the house. You see no sign of him along the patheading to your home. You frown.

There isn't even a note.

You grab your coat and decide to head into town. Perhaps you will find him at one of his favourite spots.

You pass the bakery, he is not there. You pass the tavern, too early to be open. You pass the tailors. He's only just unlocking the door. You reach the bookshop. Hob is open and awaiting customers. You pop in.

"Hello, Hob. Has my father come by?" You ask him.

"Haven't seen him. You're the first soul through my door today. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he's fine. He just wasn't at home when I woke up, and I didn't see a note. Perhaps he just went for a walk."

"He's probably already back at home." Hob offers you a smile. "How is the book?" He asks.

"Fascinating! Do you think it exists? The realm of dreams?"

He chuckles softly. "I do."

You catch the glint in his eye as he smiles. It's a cheeky smile, one that makes you wonder what kind of man Hob is. Despite knowing him for quite some time, there's still a lot you don't know about him.

"I'll try and finish it soon. I fell asleep reading it."

"Did you?" He asks curiously. "Did anything happen?"

"No. Well, except for my father leaving without a word. Though he's probably back at home, like you said."

Hob has a curious expression on his face. You're not quite sure what to make of it.

"Better head home and see."

You nod and smile softly. You can't help worrying, though. It's not like him to disappear without telling you. You head back home.

When you arrive at the house you find it juat ad empty as when you left. You sigh softly. Where had he gone? It wasn't like your father to leave without telling you. You peer out toward the shed. His wagon was still there, so he wasn't out on a job either.

Deciding to get something to eat and wait a while, you head to the kitchen. He would show up eventually, you were sure.

Hours passed.

Not a single sign of him. Hob came by to check in on you, but when he saw the look on your face, he grew concerned. He stayed with you until dark. He offered to sleep on the couch, but you told him to head on home. He left, telling you to contact him if you need him. You agreed.

The hour grew late. Your father did not appear. You become worried sick. Your worry eats away at you. You stay awake for hours. You try so hard to fight sleep, but you just can't leep your eyes open.

You fall asleep on the sofa.

You feel a gentle breeze on your face. You open your eyes and find yourself staring at a dark and cloudy sky. You take a few moments to ground yourself before sitting up. A small gasp escapes you as you find yourself staring at a palace. It's a tall, dark looking building, one in great disrepair by the looks of it. Windows were broken and a lot of the structure was damaged.

You're stand up and look across the long abandoned bridge that leads to the palace. You have no idea where you are, but suddenly, words from that journal come to mind. Descriptions of the palace that seem to match the one in front of you.

We're you... dreaming?

You look around. There is not another soul in sight. A caw can be heard from above you, and you look up in time to see a bird fly over you and into the palace.

You decide to follow it.

Passing over the bridge, you become filled with dread. There is no one else around. The place was dark and looked long since abandoned. This place was nothing the place you read about in that book.

You reach the doors to the palace and slip through the open crack between them. The main entrance is also empty and dark. Your footsteps echo through the room.

You only go in a few steps as you look around. "Hello? Is anyone home?" You called out. You get no response.

There is a fire lit nearby. You walk over and find an untouched glass of wine and an untouched plate of food. You look around cautiously. Something feels very wrong here.

You explore further into the palace. The sound of a bird flapping its wings echoes from down the hall. You decide to follow it. It almost feels like it's leading you somewhere.

You head down a dark hall and down a dark staircase. The whole place is poorly lit. However, venturing into the darkness proves to be worth it. You're lead to what looks like a cell. You rise over to the bars.

"Father?"

His head pops up, and he gasps. He joins you at the bars and grabs your hands.

"You can't be here!"

"What are you talking about? Where is this place? You've been gone all day!"

"A day...? Is that all?"

"What do you mean? Father, what's happening? Where are we?" You ask him desperately.

"You must leave!'

"Not without you. Tell me what's happening."

He looks at you with sad eyes. "I've been here for days... Time works differently here."

"What do you mean...?" You ask softly.

"We're in The Dreaming..."

You stare at him. "The Dreaming...?"

He nods his head. "Your mother did not lie to you when she said we could dream... her family has always been able to dream since the fall of the king. When I married her, her blessing was passed onto me, so it was inevitable you would gain this ability too."

"What are you talking about?" You plead with him to tell you.

"This is the Dreamscape. The realm of Dreams and Nightmares. The king of Dreams rules this realm. I didn't mean to come here, but I clearly wasn't strong enough to shut him out..."

"Father..."

"You're in danger just being here." He looks at you desperately. "You must go."

"I can't go without you! Come on, there has to be a way to get you out."

"No!" He yells in panic.

The sound of a door slamming open can be heard down the hall, and footsteps follow. You look into the dark.

"He's here..." Your father whispers.

"Who? Who is coming?"

"The Nightmare man..."

A figure lurks in the shadows, blanketed by the dark. You can just about make out someone standing there, but you can't see clearly what they look like.

"Another trespasser in my palace." His voice is deep and growly. He sounds angry. "Tresspassers will be punished."

You stand up tall and glare into the dark.

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

"Don't." You are father begs you.

"I am the King of Nightmares, and you shouldn't be here, little one."

"Let my father go!"

A moment of silence passes as you stare into the dark eyes watching you. His eyes are narrowed. He shifts. You catch sight of a feather.

"Show yourself. Come into the light."

Your father begs you to stop, but you don't listen. The figure in the dark steps out into the light and you feel all air leave your lungs.

The monster is real.

☆☆☆

@littleblackcatinwonderland - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @missdreamofendless -

[atlafan]

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask

“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

**

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

**

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

**

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

[umbreonkin197]

Journal of a Questioning Otherkin (Entry 2) (Repost)

This morning I woke up and immediately was hit with a massive amount of dysphoria. It was as if every fiber of my being was screaming with the pain of being confined inside of the wrong body. I just felt awful in a way that is almost impossible to put into words. My skin was crawling because something inside me just knew that this skin was wrong. I felt wrong. It really hurts, mourning a body that I know I'll never have.

The dysphoria hasn't been quite this bad before. All these years I've suppressed the feeling deep down inside of me, pretending it was fine, but now that I finally see it for what it is, I can't pretend anymore. I can't just ignore it and hope it fixes itself.

I started to dissociate due to how bad I was feeling and I wasn't able to think, or really do much of anything for the entire day. The brain fog was just that severe. I realized that this brain fog and dissociative spells might have been affecting me for years and I hadn't even realized that's what it is.

I really need to figure out how to cope with that feeling of dysphoria better, because I really can't afford to spend every day in a dissociative haze, riddled with anxiety, and unable to get basic tasks done.

I am struggling and I don't know what to do. I'm so new to all this. How do you connect to your kintype? What does it mean to be a pokemon? What does it mean to be an Umbreon? How do I figure that out, and how can I help alleviate that all encompassing dysphoria? Right now it feels hopeless, but I know logically that isn't true.

On a different, less depressing note-

In an attempt to explore more about myself and to distance myself from the concept of being human, I decided to try out it/its pronouns. I had an interesting experience with that, but my findings were largely that it didn't feel euphoric, but also, it surprisingly didn't feel bad either. Perhaps there is something there, but as of yet, I don't quite know. Trying out Bre/Bre's/Breself was actually kind of nice too.

I've never gone by any pronouns other than he/him before, so this is new to me. If this ends up developing further, I could potentially see using He/it/bre. The dehumanizing aspect of it/its is nice, but I still strongly feel connected to my identity as male and don't want to discard those pronouns.

I've already done my soul searching in regards to gender, and I'm confident and comfortable identifying as male, despite being very gender non-conforming. However, that's neither here nor there at the moment.

And ending on a little funny note, a friend that I haven't talked to at all about any of this identity fuckery sent me this today. My friends send me Umbreon related posts because they know I like Umbreon, but I found it hilarious and ironic that they sent this to me and had no idea how relevant this really was to me right now.

Anyways, long story short, today sucked. Dysphoria hit so hard that it caused a full day of dissociation. I still feel very good about being an Umbreon Fictionkin, but I'm doing my best to be open and considering possible alternatives. I try not to fall victim to confirmation bias.

Any tips from otherkin (especially fellow pokemonkin) on how to handle dysphoria and connect to your kintype would be greatly appreciated! Until next time.

[the---hermit]

The absolute sweetest spring letter from @ben-learns-smth 💜🌿 and the new monthly cover page of my reading journal.

05|05|2023

4/50 days of productivity

Today I decided to skip class. I didn't sleep very well, but my decision was mostly due to the fact that I woke up with a stomach ache. I sometimes get these aches that don't hurt only when I can lie down, and being out for most of the day wasn't ideal. Thankfully as the morning went on I started to feel better, but I am happy with the decision I made. The professor will upload some materials on the topics he is discussing anyway, so it should be fine. I also got to be way more productive this way. I continued working on the protohistory articles I have to read in order to make my presentation. The big joy of today was getting a lovely spring letter by a friend that included a card with flower seeds that I planted right away. hopefully I did everything correctly and they will sprout soon.

Productivity:

read and highlighted the second protohistory article

same thing for the third article

I also started working on the fourth, but I didn't finish it because my focus was just done for the day (hopefully tomorrow I'll manage to conclude my first reading of all these articles, so that I'll be able to plan the second half of this project)

updated my reading journal

emails

practiced Irish on duolingo

Self care:

read first thing in the morning

decided to skip class (I said it before and I will say it again, this counts as self care)

planted new flower seeds

📖: Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

[ghostsandmirrors]

Questions for the mun - all Basics please? Don't hate me lol

Questions for the mun.

pfft, I could never. I am going to miss one question because someone else sent it, too.

(under read more because that's 12 questions)

When did you first start writing? 2008. I was on Mibba (writing site) and someone's journal post was an advert for a Proboards Potter forum.

In what language did you start writing? English. It was only like 2019 that I started trying to learn another language och jag är så dålig på talar svenska x.x (and I'm so bad at talking Swedish)

If your mother tongue is not the language you write now, what caused you to switch languages? N/A - one day I'll get good enough at Swedish to RP in it but that ain't today.

What was the first muse that you’ve written? Her name was Judy Lewis on that Proboards site in 2008. I also wrote her twin brother (Jesse Lewis). She was a Slytherin half-blood, he was a Hufflepuff half-blood.

I once answered an ask about her on the Bringer's blog so here's the link.

Do you still write your first muse? Nope. I consider remaking her sometimes--especially when memes ask about first muses--but I think she belongs in 2008 and in the fanfic I was writing at the time.

What is the muse that you write for the longest? This is answered here. The answer is Bam (first made 2009 on a Potter site I made); 2009 Gerard Way had that vibe and then they dyed their hair red and Danger Days came out and I was like 👀👀👀

Also because of Bam, and me being so specific when it came to making graphics (avatars and signatures), I can tell you which year a Gerard Way picture came from between the years of 2003 and 2013 based entirely on their hair.

I used to think I was neurotypical btw. Teenage me making a Notepad document of Gerard Way GIFs organised by hair style and year ('long black, 2005') like, 'yeah, this is a normal level of interest in a subject.' It is not, but it is a fun fact I get to whip out now.

In what style did you start to write (First person, third person, *-style or novel-style?) I have always written in third person, past tense, I guess novel-style? Used to do a lot of one-liners but--and I actually mentioned this to someone the other day--I ended up on a lot of sites with minimum word counts (usually only like 100 words, which sounds like a lot but is surprisingly small).

My longest post pre-Tumblr was like 2k words because me and a thread partner were just seeing how long we could make our posts in that specific thread. We also tried to go back to one-liners only for a thread (for fun) and we were struggling.

What caused you to start writing? What was your key point? General writing was probably this one book series about a man who lived with a family that made clay dragon statues and the dragon statues came to life. I looked it up; The Last Dragon Chronicles. I did not read all of them.

RP specifically was the site advert coming when I had like just started writing a Potter fanfic of Goblet of Fire from the point of view of Random OC (Judy Lewis, who was a Gryffindor in the fic).

Do you regret starting writing? No. It taught me how to spell, for starters. I was dogshit at spelling and grammar back in the day and I've gotten so much better just through practice and actually learning what things are used for. Also like... you get the best reactions. Even if I ever managed to quit RP--which I don't think I will--I would never be able to fully stop writing because of those reactions. One way or another, I will inflict fictional suffering on people.

As a kid, I wanted to be an author. Making characters and worlds is way too fun.

Is there anything you would have changed when you started writing now that you have more experience? RP specific; no. Writing in general; I'd have started writing proper English from the beginning and not spent years deciding that full stops are only used for the end of a paragraph, actually.

Also some of the older characters don't have their apps saved at all and I'm still mad about it. I struggled making Arnulf because his old app and all his old information is gone. I'm gonna die mad at past me about like 17 different things and it's fine because they deserve it.

How do you describe writing / rp to others? Generally I don't, but if I had to, I would describe it as 'y'know writing a story? It's like that but you only control one character.' It's not accurate--NPCs exist--but like it's the closest I can get considering I'm genuinely trash at describing anything lmao

On what platform did you start to write? Accidentally answered this in the first answer. Oops. Proboards. I actually refused to go to other forum sites for the longest time because I didn't understand the coding for posts. On Proboards it was like [b]bold[/b], on InvisionFree it was <b>bold</b>, I think Jcink was [b]bold[/b]?

I did eventually also go on InvisionFree (one site, a Buffy/The Vampire Diaries crossover site) and Jcink (multiple sites, mostly Marvel/DC crossover sites, a couple of panfandom sites, a town site?, and at least one Potter site). Jcink might be my favourite of the three.

There was also 'Boards' which was to Proboards what Jcink was to InvisionFree (Jcink sites have 'powered by InvisionFree' at the bottom, Boards sites had 'powered by Proboards').

[homulilythemagicalgirl]

Day 30 <3

🎀✨Day 30: I tried astral projecting while lying on my back, but I was very tired, so I kept zoning out and forgetting what I was doing, so I decided I am going to astral project in the middle of the day today so I won't get distracted. ⏱💣Update: I wasn't able to astral project, but it wasn't because I fell asleep. I kept getting so zoned out and forgetting things that it was like there was nothing in the world at all. Maybe this is what people call the void state? I'll try again and try to stay aware. 💐☕I've been thinking about the magic I'll use to fight witches. I know they're based on your wish, and they look like they're meant to help you continue fulfilling your wish like how Kyoko's power was to make people listen to her so she could continue her wish of people listening to her father. I don't know what mine will be, so I have no way of practicing it until I make my contract. I have heard that the wish power is the only natural one, so it will probably be the easiest to learn at least. 🎧🌊I've been working on that special project. Here's a WIP! This is what the reference of my magi and civilian forms was for.

🍎📿I have started the IRL magi journal! I've been using a fountain pen and ink. I wanted to use the feather to feel more magical, but I haven't been able to get the nib on the holder. I wanted to put a lot of things on the front to show my progress, so that's why they look a little bit like Minecraft stats ahaha.

This is brown/red ink, not blood, I promise! ^_^

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

Half-Demon! Tanjiro AU

Chapter 14:

Doctor’s Notes

Warnings: Discussions of mental health, child abuse, and mental breakdowns

Word Count: 3167

11/27/1923 - First Thoughts

Tomorrow, I will start my therapy sessions with the demons, well now "half-demons." Through careful planning, I've decided to interview Rui first. Reason being that he's a child demon. I don't really hold much animosity towards him since he was probably manipulated by the former king, Muzan Kibutsuji.

In all honesty, I'm not too eager for these sessions. It's not that I think they'll attack me. If they do, I've got my sword always on my hip, so I'll always be ready. No, that's not why. In reality, I just don't believe that they can change. They've eaten humans, so they've tasted blood before. I have no doubt that they'll be hunting for every opportunity to taste blood again. I can understand why Nezuko would be considered redeemed, but these other demons..I don't know.

The only reason why I agreed to this is because I know Tanjiro needs all the help he needs right now. He's stressed out and my disapproval will only make it worse. There are so many odds against him..I just feel like he could use a break. Besides, maybe some good could come out of this. That's what she would've wanted...

Anyways, tomorrow is going to be an interesting day. I'll keep logging in this journal after every session. For now though, I need to get some rest. Let's hope for the best.

Shinobu Kocho

11/28/1923 - My First Session With Rui

When the spider demon walked into my office today, he looked petrified. I immediately crouched down and asked him why. He said that he thought he was going to be scrutinized or even killed. I didn't know that I scared him that badly. Luckily with some quick reassurance, we were able to continue the session.

The first thing I noticed about the pup was that he looked like he was never satisfied with how things were. Specifically, his kimono. Rui constantly adjusted it, even though it fit him just fine. He also adjusted the soft pad I had him sit on. When I asked him why he did what he did, he told me that "it just didn't feel right." He said that he knew that everything was neat, but something told him that it didn't fit right. This was the first piece of his puzzle.

Next, we took a trip down memory lane. I asked him about his life as a human. This was simple enough. He told me that he had two loving parents, but an incredibly weak body. It was so weak that taking a few steps would exhaust him. That's why Muzan came to him. In a way, I can understand why he would accept his offer. As a doctor, I know that he would've only lasted a few more years if he wasn't converted.

Then, he started to grow upset. Rui told me that his parents tried to kill him because of what he was doing to others - eating people - but they were also going to kill themselves to join him. He didn't realize that and killed them in self defense. It all became clear.

Rui wanted to create a family so he could have a loving relationship once more. I unfortunately can relate to that. Wanting your family back after a terrible accident..One thing threw me off though. Rui was incredibly peculiar about the roles of the family. He even went as far as to plan our roles for the siblings, despite not having any siblings himself. Not to mention, the way he described his parents made it seem like they fit in the traditional roles.

When I asked him about this, he said that "If the family didn't work that way, everything would turn to ruin." He seems like he didn't want everything to fall apart again. As I observed him, I noticed that he felt like terrible things would happen if he didn't do something in a specific way every single time. He told me that he always counted to thirty seconds when he's washing his hands. Rui also told me that if things were organized chaotically, the day would be disastrous.

Furthermore, I can tell that all this change is stressing him out. He interchangeably grasps his hands together, showing that he's clearly nervous and upset. I know that a part of the stress was being interviewed by a Hashira, but the other problem was definitely the changes. As of recently though, there has been a discovery in this field that these traits perfectly fit.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or OCD seems to be what the pup has. His past of having a feeble body makes it worse. With all the pieces I had, I tried to give him some advice. Since his anxiety seems to be incredibly high, I told him that he should try to rest in the small meadow outside the Infinity Castle. The light from the sun will help to soothe him and going or even playing outside might give him the confidence he needs.

Another thing that was necessary to be aware of were his intrusive thoughts. I told him to be aware of the meanings he's assigning to these thoughts. Rui seems to know that these thoughts are distracting, which is a step forward. So, I told him that he needs to disconnect the meaning behind the thoughts. That's the first step to stopping the compulsions.

Looking back on this, I forgot that Rui was a half-demon when we were talking about his OCD. He talked to me like a human child, not a bloodthirsty monster. The pup was genuinely afraid and somber. Nothing about him showed that he was faking his emotions. For the first session, it surprisingly went well. I know that the others won't be easy, but I do hope that they decide to come in.

Shinobu Kocho

11/30/1923 - The Shabana Siblings

Today, two demon siblings came in upon Tanjiro's request. They were the two Uppermost Six demons, Daki and Gyutaro Shabana. I had asked Uzui about them before this session. Despite of what happened at the Entertainment District, he seemed rather nonchalant about them. He did say that they did have a high temper, so I kept my sword at the ready.

What I got were two calm, yet protective siblings. I guess Tanjiro had worked his magic on them. He must've warmed them slightly, enough to have them discuss their pasts. Speaking of which...

I did not expect the Entertainment District to be that hellish. Tengen has told me before that the place was one of the worst places imaginable, but I didn't grasp the full picture until now. Their story was horrific and it was hard not to feel sympathy for them. Everyone left or beat them....strangers, colleagues, even their parents. All they had was each other.

Once again, I felt myself relating to my patients. I even imagined myself in their shoes. What if my sister and I had been abandoned by everyone? What if we were shunned by everyone who should've shown us kindness? What if the only being that showed us grace..was a demon? Would we end up the same? Was this how Kanao felt?

I didn't expect to feel this way, but I still had a job to fulfill. When they finished their narrative, I asked them how they felt now. Gyutaro seemed to be more at ease with himself. He even said that he made friends with a demon named Kerido. From the look of it though, he seems to feel a stronger affection towards the demon.

Daki, on the other hand, seems to be unsure of who she is. I would say that she was immature for her age, but she was converted at thirteen, so it made sense. I will say though, she has my type of humor. A few chuckles came from me when she started teasing her brother. Very unprofessional, I know. I just couldn't help myself.

After their session, they did seem to be at ease. Maybe having someone to talk to made them feel better. I wish I could do the same...Once again, another strange, calm session. I know it won't be like this forever, so I'm still prepared. Tanjiro telepathically spoke to me a few hours after the session, which felt odd. He told me that the Hantengu clones would be coming in the next few days. I'm not really sure what to expect, but I'm prepared for whatever is in store.

Shinobu Kocho

12/05/1923 - The Hantengu Clones

They all arrived at once, which overwhelmed me at first. Luckily, I was able to organize it rather quickly. I decided to interview them from who I suspected to be the easiest to the most difficult. So, Karaku, the clone of pleasure, was the best choice.

One thing I should add is that I actually had Mitsuri's help with these sessions. She discovered her Blood Demon Art yesterday and we both thought it would be rather useful. Basically, she can create a mist from her heart-shaped marks that soothes everyone who's around her. With no surprise, she came to me and offered her help. I am glad that I'm not the only one who's willing to help with this project.

Karaku wasn't really difficult to work with. He had a rather relaxed personality, which was nice. There was a strange oddity about his past though. He didn't remember hardly anything about his childhood, nor about the crimes that Hantengu had committed during his human life. He vaguely remembered stealing, I guess it gave him some pleasure. Most of his memories come from his teen years and his demon years. This just struck me as odd when we talked.

Another oddity that came up was that Karaku wasn't just his particular emotion. He had a whole personality! Karaku is a very relaxed, laid back, and oddly flirty character, but he's also lazy, slightly whiny, and prideful. I was expecting him to just represent his emotion and that was it, but I got more than I expected. So, I kept my eyes open while having the sessions with the other clones.

Urogi, the clone of joy, was up next. He was surprisingly sweet and, not so surprisingly, hyper. While we were talking, the bird demon couldn't sit still. He rocked back and forth at times and messed with the objects surrounding him at other times. To most people, this may seem like he doesn't care about what your saying. I, on the other hand, beg to differ. Reason being is because when I confronted him about it, he looked rather upset and disappointed in himself. He apologized profusely for it. Clearly, he's been scolded for it before.

Now for what he may have? I do have an idea. A while ago, I remember reading a paper that was written by a British pediatrician in 1902. There, he described an occurrence in certain children that resulted in difficulty focusing, forgetfulness, and hyperactivity. Despite this, the children were still shown to be intelligent. Therefore in my mind, he should not be treated unfairly for his behavior.

Similar to Karaku, he doesn't remember anything from Hantengu's childhood. Instead, Urogi remembers games he played with his friends during his teen years. However, most of his memories are of his demon life. As I expected, Urogi never took any of the fights he had to deal with seriously. He just wanted to play games and have fun. I can understand that.

Along with that, Urogi also mentioned that there has been tension amongst his "brothers", which is how he refers to the clones. When I questioned him, Urogi said that the transformation into Zohakuten is extremely painful, both physically and mentally. During that time, all the clones are flooded with terrible hatred and vague memories of people's wrath.

He told me that Sekido was the one who initiated the transformation. However, Urogi said he understood why Sekido did it, but he wished that they could talk about it. I hope that I can help them with their tension. None of us want them to be torn apart.... It reminds me of someone.

Anyway, I managed to cheer him up by the end-which wasn't hard-and he left with a wide smile on his face. Now I didn't need to have Mitsuri use her abilities for the first two clones, but..we did have to use it for the next clone. Aizetsu, the clone of sorrow, walked in with an emotionally tired expression. I'll be honest. The first time I saw him, I did feel rather sympathetic for him.

This session brought so many pieces to the puzzle. Unlike the other clones, he remembered Hantengu's childhood. Aizetsu spoke softly as he told me the many horror stories from his childhood.

To say that I was sickening would be an understatement. According to Aizetsu, Hentengu lived in a single parent household. That parent being his cruel father. He was an alcoholic, short-tempered man who frequently beat his son whenever he didn't get his way. Hantengu's father threw away any toy that annoyed him and often kept him locked up inside for weeks as "punishment". Dragging his son by the hair, Hantengu's father often convicted him that he was narcissistic for forgetting simple things or didn't do things his way.

Aizetsu trembled as he spoke of fear and sorrow. He remembered craving love and he never received it. His mother was never there, his father was abusive, and he never had any friends. Hantengu feared for his life for he was too weak at the time to do anything about it. That was when Aizetsu broke.

He began to sob into his hands as he recalled all the pain he went through. I immediately tried to soothe him with breathing tactics. This did virtually nothing as he only sobbed harder. Backup was needed. Mitsuri released the mist from her marks. I held his hands as he breathed in the mist.

Just like how Mitsuri described it, Aizetsu was slowly soothed. He wiped away his tears as his breathing slowly regained normality. As his therapist, I had to help him. With a soft voice, I told him that he doesn't have to worry anymore. No one will hurt him here. He was safe.

Aizetsu smiled at me as he listened. He told me that he was never really a fighter. Whenever they were called for battle, he never wanted to actually hurt anyone. Honestly, I can see that. The way he acts is incredibly gentle and soft. I wasn't surprised by any of this news. However, he did confirm what Urogi was saying, except he felt the pain on a much larger scale.

I'm not going to lie. I was rather tense as I called Sekido, the clone of anger, into the office. I was apprehensive from the very beginning, but the fact that Zohakuten causes so much pain on his brothers makes me distrustful of him. However, I'm his therapist, so I have to be open minded.

The session started out calmly enough. He answered my basic questions with no attitude or ill-temper. Then..I asked him about his past. That's when his temper began to rise. Sekido cursed about his father. White Aizetsu's memories were more in the moment, Sekido's memories were the vengeful aftermath. He spoke with pure hate for that man. I can't say I blame him..

When Hentengu grew into his early teen years, he began resisting against his father's beatings. Sekido came to tear this man apart. That was his first murder. This might sound cruel to say, but I would've done the same. This is where things took an even darker turn.

Sekido was the only clone that remembered the murders. He told me that he needed to kill those people to protect Hantengu. They made him feel weak. They made him feel used. However, this was when he lost his temper.

He rose up from his seat and roared with fury. Sekido vented about how much pain he and his brothers went through and cursed us for trying to kill them. One line in particular stuck with me. "How dare you assume that we're monsters when you don't even bother to understand why we are the way we are?!" This not only applies to us, but it also applied to his father as well.

Mitsuri released her mist to quickly calm him down. With the mist and some affirmation, Sekido calmed down and we resumed the session. He apologized for losing his temper and explained that he's been apprehensive from the very beginning. With all this information, I've come to a shocking revelation.

The clones are Hantengu's different personalities. They each have selective memories and they seemed to be formed for certain purposes. Urogi and Karaku were meant to help Hantengu be happy with no guilt or fear behind his eyes. Aizetsu internalizes all the guilt and suffering that his father inflicted on him. Sekido was the source of protection and a defense mechanism.

This man was deeply wounded as a child. I'm not trying to excuse what he did, but he really was unaware of his actions until it was too late. It really was his hands that killed those people. With the selective memory, I can understand why Sekido killed them. He thought that they were trying to attack him and his brothers. In that way, I can understand him..I can relate to him.

Shinobu Kocho

12/06/1923 - Final Thoughts For Now

I don't know what to feel anymore. In all honesty, I expected to roll my eyes at their stories. I thought they would prove themselves to be the monsters I thought they were. What I found though were stories more human than I could ever imagine. I found myself relating to them, which scared me at first. However, I have come to acknowledge the truth of the situation.

We demon slayers were hurt by demons. Therefore, we hurt them. Demons, on the other hand, were hurt by humans. Thus, they hurt us. This isn't a battle between good and evil-as I originally thought-but it was a civil war between two groups of broken people. Every few of the beings in that war were good or evil. We were all broken, attacking each other in the name of revenge.

I thought...that extermination was the only solution-especially after Kanae died-but I can't say the same after listening to the demon's tales. I know that I might sound crazy. I know that I might get hurt later, but I genuinely believe now that this is the best way to go. There are some that I'm still skeptical of, but I will keep a open mind.I will continue these sessions and see how the half-demons grow over time. This war has to end and I believe that this is the best way to end it.

Shinobu Kocho

Author's Note: Yes, this is written in first person. I thought that this would be more impactful for Shinobu's character development. I did do research for this, so I hope that this is accurate representation! Sorry for not updating, I've been constantly sick. I do hope you enjoy this though!

[emilieautumnarchives]

RUSSIAN BRIDE

Posted: February 21, 2006 Archived from The Official Asylum Forums Archived from BonnyTymePyrate’s Journal Archives

I emerged victorious this morning from my laryngitis-induced house arrest. Muscles near atrophy after four feverish days of bed-rest and mind a little unsure of what the present year was, I ventured forth to test the weather with the usual feeling that I'd forgotten something. I soon found that I had - my other six coats, because apparently the two that I was wearing were not sufficient. I'd also forgotten to charge the iPod, which leads to a fate worse than death - riding the train to the sounds of a man on his cell phone debating loudly the merits of various brands of frozen pizza. So I fought back in my own small way by playing Mozart Violin Concerto No. 4 over and over in my head with full orchestration, but had to surrender at last when the small boy sitting behind me whipped out a harmonica. No fucking joke.

Now I'm settled into a corner of the Urban Tea Lounge, very urban, more tea, less lounge. I've ordered a pot of the White Chocolate Mousse tea and a cinnamon scone with strawberry preserves. I wasn't supposed to write anything new because that would invariably lead to my trying to sneak it onto the record before final pressing, but I couldn't help laying down some harpsichord for it anyway at 5am this morning. It's called "Russian Bride," not that it matters because you won't hear it for ages, that's how disciplined I'm endeavoring to be. And to prove it, my phone is turned off.

The cinnamon scone is a delightful 2 pounds lighter than your average scone, which is a good thing as it's the first solid thing I've digested since the most obscene birthday cake of four days ago (I'd show you pictures of what I look like right now, but I think the film "Powder" would sue me for copyright infringement), unless of course you count the dozen antibiotic pills I swallowed (not at once) which came from Italy and which were not prescribed to me (no need to tell me how stupid that is, I'm marvelously aware of it).

God, I've really been a lazy fucktart, haven't I. Gillions of pictures, videos, and tales from the show last month, and several more adventures in between, and I just haven't been able to sit still and focus on such tasks. Sorry.

Planning travel today, to Canada and then Texas of all places, both for music festivals, but neither for playing, just making appearances, and setting cities on fire with cohorts, so if you hear anything on the nightly news, you don't know a thing.

I've been toying with the idea of finally giving in and becoming a Suicide Girl lately, not for any particular reason other than, perhaps, revenge, which is either the best or the worst reason to do anything, I'm not sure which. Scones just have a way of disappearing, don't they.

I've also decided to reward myself for finishing the album by allowing myself to learn Japanese, so if anybody out there has a Mixi account, please do consider sending me an invite and I'll do my best to correspond with you in unintentionally borderline offensive wording. Which reminds me, why does it seem that so much of what we do in our lives revolves around (is "revolves around" redundant? no, no, I don't think so either) retracing our breadcrumbs to our past and making friends with it? I'll explain what I mean by this later. Maybe.

Tea is cold, time to move on. I've been writing this entry and a sheet of lyrics on the table side by side, and I just forgot which was which and started singing along to my diary entry, fuck ambidextrousnessosityidle..ess..ness...

Buy and sell me like a russian bride Follow me and see how well I hide Worship me thus from a distance Trust me you don't want to miss this First I'll take the bluest vein I own Then I'll make a tourniquet You've shown me this remember remember I don't even mind in fact No this is not a desperate act this Time makes no saints that history can't disgrace Shame or break and then erase

blibbledyblobbildyblook...

Bloody Crumpet Joo Hee and I went with Lord Leicester to high tea last week at the Peninsula Hotel. Not only is it THE place for high tea, it is apparently also THE place for vegan high tea, though you do have to call ahead to alert the chef, which I doubly did. It seems the kitchen staff needs a good bit of time to contemplate the soy pudding with plum wine and coconut before they can actually stomach the thought of actually preparing it. We made fun of the string quartet, had more champagne than tea, and didn't return home again until 4am the next morning, half of which I can't explain, the other half of which I can't remember. Suffice it to say that the three of us very narrowly escaped becoming the pampered pets/sex slaves of a bored Brazilian lass and her doting-yet-allegedly-platonic minder. After Leicester's ankle was violently molested before the fireplace in the hotel cocktail lounge, we ran for the clubs where my ankles could be violently molested.

There, Joo Hee and I were photographed for the third time by a gentleman who oddly seems to manifest himself wherever we happen to be. Finding the pictures online later, I share them with you now, for the specific reason that now you can NEVER say I only show you the good pictures:

If we ever again decide to go to Y-Bar on a Wednesday night, I hereby authorize any one of you to intervene, because the place was packed with frat boys and their sorority counterparts complete with frosted eyeshadow, and the inappropriately raucous office party, which wasn't funny until a promoter came up to us and gave us an invitation to "the after-party" at another establishment. "After-party"?? For what? The copy guy's promotion to assistant manager? Maybe another time, thanks.

In other news, I'll be recording death-metal violin this week on the new album from dear UK friends "AVOIDANCE OF DOUBT" because they were gracious enough to ask me and I was flattered to accept. I will sacrifice another crumpet to the good fortune of the mission ahead.

Love & Bloody Crumpets, EA

[siyasantlani111]

Meditation~

Hi guys welcome back, today I decided to write down about meditation and how it helped me so much. So let's begin. Few years ago I used to constantly fall into depression and I used always have these negative thoughts about myself, my future and my career and everything in general. I used to have extremely spiralling thoughts and I generally used to feel that I'm different than everyone but in a very bad way. Like I don't deserve to be loved or just allowing people to treat me like trash and than be extremely drained. I used to be overweight and I used to constantly think that my weight is the reason why people treat me very poorly. And this depression continued for almost three years or more I don't remember. There were certain few months I would be happy but I'd go back to being depressed, it was like depression is my original state and so many times I also accepted the fact that this is just the way it is going to be. Also I don't exactly remember when I felt this way because the memories are there but they are vague, but I know there was a point in my life when I accepted the fact I'll stay depressed forever. However last year it changed and I decided to heal my self, and who introduced me to healing is “thewizardliz” she's a youtuber and do check out her videos. And I literally prayed to God to get me into therapy as I didn't have the privilege to go to therapy, and he granted this wish of mine. I started going to therapy but before that I made sure I was aware about the things I was going through, that is being aware about my mental health in general. I also watched a lot of videos on Youtube to be aware. So I started therapy and then my therapist made me realise that I need to start meditating and journaling regularly and I was like ok.I used to meditate a little for like 5 minutes however it wasn't that deep and I didn't have much knowledge.

So let's begin when I started meditating I became more connected to God, I felt that we always had a connection but it just got really really deep and I started realising certain things which I wasn't able to realise even though there were so many signs, that is being manipulated and being emotionally abused. How did I realise it? I don't know. I suddenly had this realisation that I'm being manipulated and emotionally abused and neglected. So I was in this one relationship for three years and they always made comments about my body, my looks or the photos I posted online. And I used to be really hurt by that I tried to explain them nicely the story behind why I don't appreciate these jokes because I have struggled with a lot of depression when it comes to my body and it really hurted me. However they always used to taunt me by telling me “some people get offended so easily” or they'd just say “take a chill it's just a joke or its their humour.” And like an idiot I always was like ok I love them and I have to try to understand them too. But what about me huh? What about me being hurt? Well I didn't think about me at that time. And this went on and on and on for three years. Until I started meditating and suddenly I realised this is wrong and there were so many signs and cut them off. There were times in my life I used to cut them off and than got back together with them however and this went on and on and on. And when I used to cut them off I used to think that maybe it's not even that deep for them or maybe they are really joking or maybe I'm lacking somewhere. I always think that I'm the one who's always lacking even though I'm not the problem. Because I used to love this person so much and I wanted to always provide them with the best. But than I realised no, I'm not asking for crazy things I'm just asking for being treated normally and it's not wrong. And what's even crazier that all these years I was being neglected emotionally and my boundaries where constantly being disrespected but at that moment I couldn't even realise it. And it's insane how meditating made me realise all of this. See guys when you are constantly being manipulated by someone you won't be able to realise it and it gets really difficult to fall out of this. Even if someone tells you that, then maybe due to attachment you might started defending them and say “oh no they aren't manipulating me.”

And that's exactly when you need an external source to make you realise that and for me it was meditating. Because when I started meditating I also got connected to my intuition and so many parts of myself I lost during that relationship just to not loose this person. However I never lost them I got my lost self back. There was a time in my life when I constantly cried over them for a year like constantly just crying over them because of how much they hurt me, but still I allowed them to manipulate me and hurt me so much. I used to cry myself to sleep and used to think why can't they love me or accept me or understand me why do they make me feel so neglected. The wizard liz once said “everyone used to tell me that they loved me, but I never felt loved” and liz I totally relate to you. However guys I think this was a really long blog.

Thankyou so much for reading it I love you guys so so so much. And if you think I can make any improvements then please make sure to comment nicely:)

Byeee guyssss❤️❤️🎀🎀🎀

[cheste7]

Day 2 (18/11/23)🌟

a pic of my bias in seventeen because why not

hi again! even if it's inly 5 pm in my country i'd call it a day. tonight I didn't sleep well (no way🫠) because of a mosquito and also because i had to wait for my roommate to return home. so this morning i woke up very tired and upset for some rent issues. we took the subway all the way down to the nearest bill office (idk if it is a word in english) to complain about this. 💸 then my roommate left for his hometown and now i'll spend the weekend alone. i was quite happy to relax and take a short time of rest in solitude but then i started feeling mentally and physically drained about this and that and i ended up with nothing done. I JUST WANT TO SLEEP 🛏

however, i decided not to study anything uni-related today bc it would be unproductive, i think i will revise something after dinner but nothing more

Language things:

JAPANESE: i completed one lesson about some basic counter suffixes but I want to practice more because there are so many!! i am finally pretty confident with my N5 kanji knowledge and when I hear a new word in the minna no nihongo lessons on yt i always try to write it in kanji characters. learning kanji makes my chinese mandarin studies way easier even if japanese grammar is more similar to korean language. however in today's lesson i found a word which i remember from the sushi restaurant the other day いらっしゃいませ which means welcome! 🥢 i've also learned how to say things such as i have been studying japanese for two months ( 私は２ヶ月日本語を勉強しま。)🇯🇵

KOREAN: i continued to study some grammar points from the seventeen's blog in Budapest, this time i've learned A-(으)ㄴ 것 같다 and V- 는 것 같다 to express a guess and i watched a video by ggomi's school on yt, she's really good and her explanations are very clear even though they're in korean. recently i've started to write in a journal some simple sentences about my daily life, my feelings and everything that comes in mind and i think my korean writing skills are slowly improving. also, i like to test my speaking skills with papago translator to see if my pronounciation is correct (at the moment i'm not ready yet to talk with native speakers on hellotalk etc) 🇰🇷

i did not study chinese today because I have to retain the things i've learned and also because I think I have to work on my pronounciation so im planning to watch some content I like such as a cdrama or stuff🇨🇳

i'm a bit hungry now but today I ate pasta with pesto and i burnt my tongue while tasting the pasta to see if it was ready so i don't know if i'll be able to eat something lol

also i don't know if im going out with my friend tonight im too tired for this (im talking like an old lady👵)

[desertsquiet]

It's a quarter moon in a ten cent town

It's time for me to lay my heartaches down

Saturday night, I'm gonna make myself a name

Take a month of Sundays to try and explain

It's gonna be easy to fill the heart of a thirsty woman

Harder to kill, the ghost of a no good man

And I'll be ridin' high in a fandangled sky

It's gonna be easy, it’s gonna be easy from now on

I have been very much in love with this song for a few months now, but since I’ve never discussed this on my blog I figured there would be no better occasion than this one.

It’s hard to explain, really, the effect it has on me. Between its main theme, the person who sings it and the person who wrote it, the levels to which it’s able to speak to me are endless and truly unfathomable. It holds inside an entire world of connections that I feel very privileged to be among the few people who probably get to experience.

As my life was taking a huge turn and I started to consider that maybe constantly being on the move and always heading to a new place to discover, well, in some regards it suited me more than I could have ever imagined, this song offered precisely the right words for the way I was feeling. That sense of adventure that I didn’t know was in me all that time. I was scared to death, and to be honest I still am, but also excited. I doubt it can ever get to a point where it’s not scary, but when I felt lost and like I had just made a big mistake, I would try to tell myself “it’s gonna be easy from now on” and for at least 3 minutes, I was entirely convinced it was true.

Susanna Clark wrote very few songs in her life. At least if we just consider those that made the light of day. So far I have counted 11 that were recorded by various artists, often to great success, and who knows how many others just remained scribbled journal entries not for the rest of the world to see. That is only fair. Emmylou said that she loved singing Susanna’s songs because she was coming from a very different perspective when she wrote, one she could feel more in tune with than any male songwriter. I just feel so blessed that she did decide to share a few of her songs with us because the result was always as extraordinary as her painting. It would have been her birthday today and I am here thinking about her. About how much of myself I see her and her words qnd how cool it would have been to meet her or even just consciously share the world with her for awhile.

Let me just say - wherever you are now, I only hope that you’re not scared anymore and that you get to hear his voice every morning, first thing in the morning.

[goodbyemaryjane]

an anecdotal account of weed addiction

part of the reason I could get so addicted to THC was because of the set of positive myths surrounding it. First, that it is not addictive and cannot be abused. Second, that overuse is not harmful because it won't acutely poison you the way many other drugs can. And third, that there is no such thing as weed withdrawals: it's all in your head.

This is my experience: I was not in control of how I was smoking. I felt like I needed to smoke before I did just about anything. I needed to be at least a little bit high all the time, or the cravings would be all I could think about. I would get anxious, restless, like an animal pacing around in its cage. I wouldn't be able to eat or sleep. It was just my little ritual, yeah? Have a bowl before I go. I'll just smoke a blunt before I go. I'll just take a few hits before I go. Slowly, the world outside my room seemed more and more anxiety-inducing, and weed was my only true refuge.

It hadn't started out that way, at first I could wait to just smoke at night, but by the end I was waking up early to get baked every morning, heading back to get high before lunch, and I needed - absolutely needed - to have enough in my stash to stay high until I fell asleep.

I had been getting high and crying about how I was an addict for maybe a week before I quit. I had realized what I was doing wasn't healthy, I was spending all my money just to stave off sobriety, I was behind in school, I was plotting ways to hide how much I was smoking and vaping from my boyfriend. I needed more and more to get high, to even feel normal. I felt trapped.

One day, I was skipping class. I'd thrown up in the morning again. (Later I would link this to prodromal CHS, but that's another post.)

I was listening to It's Gonna Be Okay, Baby by MUNA in my bed, the world swirling around. I had just bought more yesterday. I had smoked as much as I liked in the morning. I should be happy, right? Am I too high to feel happy?

Until the moment you wake in the deepest of pain that you've ever been in

And you admit you've gotta quit him

...

You're gonna start to call friends

You're gonna start to call yourself an addict

I thought about leaps of faith. I thought about what it would take for me to get clean. I had been planning - hoping - that I could quit for a little bit by then. I had bananas and saltines in my dorm cupboard, easy things to eat with no appetite.

I thought about it. I wanted to do it today. I didn't want to wait anymore.

I got up and put all my weed and implements into a bag, and then another bag, and I taped it all shut. I walked to my locker in the art building across campus. The building is closed between midnight and 7am - even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to break on the first night, even though I didn't have it in me to completely get rid of my weed yet.

I spent all day journaling and waiting for the withdrawals to kick in. I was so exhilarated by the fact that I was actually doing something about my problem, I didn't care how much my body felt like it was full of bees. Or how my thoughts raced, or how the tiniest thing could make me cry. I just thought about how I wanted at least 24 full hours under my belt so I could call my Mom and tell her, I'm doing it, I'm really doing it, and I'm so sorry - and havd the authority to say that.

Letting go felt amazing. I had been gripping so tight, holding on so hard to the idea that I was in control, I could control this, I could fix this by using more...

When I quit, I decided not to view the buzzing in my body as anxiety. The excess energy was just my body burning the drug out of me. It was just a physiological process. The night sweats were just my body getting it out. I would be better in a week.

Instead of struggling, swimming upstream against sobriety, all it took in the end was for me to let go and allow the current to toss me around for a while. I remembered swimming in the river as a kid, that moment when you don't know which way is up and you just have to save your energy and let the water spin you over, push you down, then let you bob back up.

I told my boyfriend and all my friends; they stayed with me when I didn't want to be alone.

After two days, I went into the clay studio and finished my unfinished projects. I felt peaceful for the first time in ages. I could work on my pottery for as long as I wanted without heading off to top off my high - I didn't have to live my life on a two hour timer. There was a patience and focus I hadn't felt since I first relapsed six months prior. I was free. I called my mom; she told me she knew something was wrong but she didn't know how to help me; we both cried in joy.

On the third day, I went to see my boyfriend. We kissed and kissed, and I felt so much more aware of everything in the room. The light, his eyes, the morning birds, my love. I told him my addiction was only reason I had so much trouble spending the whole night before, and he was relieved of the wondering.

I went back to the art building, a fire inside me. I destroyed my silicone bong, cut to little pieces, and sealed those pieces in a one-quart mason jar. I blasted blasted The Bitch is Back and grinned while I soaked a Ziploc full of flower in paint solvent, entombing it in the caustic liquids disposal barrel.

After four days, I ate an orange and I wanted it. It tasted incredible. I tore into it like a feral animal. My natural hunger was coming back!

After a week, I could sleep without taking Advil PM to coax it along. I slept over at my love's room and got to stay all morning, wait for him to wake up, get breakfast together. Finally! And I was eating full meals, wanting them. I felt stronger. I felt like I was becoming someone other people could rely on.

After two weeks, I was sleeping through the night, not waking up before sunrise anymore. And I was dreaming again, sometimes. I used to keep dream journals... I'm starting that again now.

That is how I learned, once and for all that these myths were myths. There were physical effects of withdrawals. On day three, I think, I threw up on the carpet of a quiet Chapel. Oops.

Smoking all the time did have consequences. Not "reefer madness", but real things. It made me anxious and then became the only way to temporarily relieve the anxiety it had caused. It made me obsessive, made me emotionally fragile and prone to despair. It made it hard to travel or do new things, since I always needed a plan for how I'd get some. It harmed my lungs; I coughed up grey goo for months after quitting. It harmed my digestion and disrupted my natural signals of hunger. I had no appetite unless I got high, and eventually even that broke down, making food into a constant struggle. (Look up Cannabis hyperemesis syndrome.)

I am a "real addict". I'm not here to compare struggles with anyone with a different drug of choice, just to say that my addiction was real, and the depths of despair I felt when I couldn't think of anything but getting high were real too.

I know this was a long post but I wanted to put my story out there, just in case it could possibly help someone still suffering, or inspire understanding in people who have never experienced this.

I'm almost 3 months sober and I'm thankful for that every single day. I hope you got something out of reading this. Thank you.

[parksprout]

Sprout Journal 11/11/24-11/12/24

Wow I forgot to do this for two days in a row, I'm actually writing this on the morning of the 13th! I thought a lot about writing this, but I've been feeling particularly depressive for the past few days. I haven't been very proud of myself lately I'll be honest. I've been taking a lot better care of myself physically, I've been getting out of the house, seeing my friends, working out, still going to school and work but... I'm honestly just caught up longing, still. I've been really caught up thinking about The Bnuuy these days. It's hard not dating them, not being able to be fully open about my emotions, not being able to give and receive the affection I got so used to for the last couple of years. I know that I need to be able to move past the breakup and continue working on myself, but it gets really difficult sometimes!! I'm not used to being the one with a broken heart, I wonder if it's some karmic retribution for the hearts I've broken before? Despite my dissatisfaction, me and the Bnuuy have had some good conversations lately. I guess I talk about our conversations too much but... we talked again about what it'd look like if we decided to start again. How we wouldn't be continuing our old relationship, but literally starting over; dating again from day one, with only our shared knowledge as a string attaching the old and new. I think that I would like that, honestly. I kinda wish that we could both wipe clean our minds of each other and meet again now, because if I met them and they met me? I feel like we would fall in love again all over!!! Ugh I think that's the frustrating part, is being compatible in so many ways but... maybe I'm just not here at the right time. They said to me "I guess I don't wanna risk hurting you again by taking another chance, so I'd only wanna do it again if I really felt serious about it" which was... halfway encouraging and halfway frustrating. It was encouraging because it means that they still think about it like it's possible, like there's something to mull over and decide upon. They look at the mountain and still see a path not obscured by the avalanche of our past. But then it was also frustrating because... I don't care if they hurt me, it's not about them hurting me that caused the break or anything, it's me that hurt them. I'm not afraid of any pain they could inflict upon me because the deepest wound would be worth the faintest kiss.

I also shared something really bittersweet with them yesterday!! It made me cry, but to be honest almost everything can make me cry aklsjdfhaksdjf I'm really highly emotional klajdshfkajsdf. Anyways, I showed them the note I had about them on my phone from when we were dating. It's this silly note that had a list of presents/gift ideas, things I knew they enjoyed, foods I wanna make/buy them, things that they said that made me laugh or smile, ways that they brought me joy, our anniversary date, the anniversary of the day we met. They agreed that it was bittersweet, too, and they thought that... I don't necessarily have to stop using it just because we aren't dating at this moment. I disagreed at first because.. it feels sacrosanct. Like some scrap of us as a couple still living that shouldn't be altered. But then I thought about it, and I realized that... if we do start dating again? I don't even want to continue where we left off. I want to start something entirely new with them. New anniversaries, new shared interests, new stages. I want to make it better, and that note was written by a me that was honestly less than a perfect partner for them. I'm gonna start a new one today <3 even if we're just friends for now.

I think that I'm trying too hard, though. Trying to be their lover again is like swimming in quicksand. I'm fighting against the enclosing mass of darkness around me, but each flailing remembrance or plea for reconsideration just makes the finality of their decision close more fully around us. That's the hardest part though, is being casual about this sinking feeling. I know that the best way for us to fall in love again would be to stop fighting, to just be myself because I am enough for them. But the urge to show them, to fight for us, is really just leaving both of our arms raked with little wounds that individually might not seem so burdensome but combined are sapping our energies and... making it so they might never want to extend the hand out to me to pull me from this mud. This is just a very hard moment, and a big part of me wants to give up on them forever but... I also know that I'm in love, and that they are the most important person in my life. Our time together is beyond meaningful to me. Either way, I've been fighting it a little less these days. We've had hard talks, they've asked me if I would be okay if they moved on, but we've also gotten oddly closer than before, too.

There was this moment yesterday though that... ugh. It made my heart swell. It's a lil silly, but they sent me a picture of their outfit. I didn't ask to see them, I didn't even think to ask, but they were wearing something cute and... they thought about me, they showed it to me. I know that one fit check doesn't mean they're in love with me again, but... it means that they trust me still, it means that they're okay showing me that they are a physical, real human beyond the words on the screen. It felt very grounding, it reminded me that.. they're really here, still in my life, more than just the recipient of my pleas through the screen. I think that what I really need to do is try to have fun with them again!! To be their bestie is about more than my silly crush, it's also about being here to listen when they are upset instead of just the inverse. It's about making them laugh, sending them reels on instagram that make me think about them whether they're silly flirty ones or just goofy stuff. It's about being myself, too. I have more interests than just dating them, but I've made wanting to do things together my whole personality for two years now. I think I'm struggling with embracing doing anything fun by myself, because I associate the concept of fun with Aaron. I want to have fun with you so bad!!! I just don't know how to do it without letting the part of me that's in love with you out in full force. Ugh. This one ended up being almost entirely about how I feel about them again, which is crazy because other things happened in my life too!! I had a nightmare about them last night, and the night before that, so I think that's contributing to how heavily they're on my mind these past two days, but I promise I DO MORE WITH MY LIFE THAN LONG FOR THEM UGH It's just easiest to write about them because it feels like the most important thing happening to me these days. I'll actually make a part two to this journal to tell y'all about what I did outside of talk to them/think about them!!! Check out part two in a bit <3 have a good start to your days everyone! I love you Tumblr!

[yvernal]

Memories

One of the reasons I decided to start journaling is because of my poor memory. A common side-effect of ADHD from what I've been told, seeing that the rest of my family got some insanely good memory.

With what we started to talk about in therapy however, I'm starting to fear that all those blanks in my memory could be trauma related rather than just a harmless side effect of ADHD.

Forgetting material stuff like objects is mostly inconsequential in my daily life. The most impactful forgetfulness I suffer is more linked to the passage of time, events, people. I forget birthdays, appointments, deadlines, obligations... tasks I had to do, people I had to contact, messages I had to answer.

I forget mostly myself.

I arrive at the end of the day with only a vague idea of what I did in the morning. I end a week of work and can't seem to recall anything but the most basic outline of what I did said week.

Past and distant memories are even worse.

Memories from my elementary school days are but inexistent, middle school is a foggy blur and highschool is but some chunks of incoherent moments. University days are no better : I left the benches for less than 4 years and yet I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about what I spent 3 years learning.

I sometimes manage to recall bits and slivers here and there, but nothing much. Names and faces evades me, events are an idea more than a reality and I feel like a crumbling ruin of something once great more often than I care to admit.

Writing everything I can recall seems to be the easiest way to keep a track of what made me what I am today. I'll probably need a new tag for it too.

I wonder how this little project will end up looking in one year from now...