#i got insurance shit the other day and had to ask my mom to make sure it was just a basic 'yeah youre covered heres more access' and not

[bunnyb34r]

Really wish this brain fog would pass bc I have a shitload of posts in my drafts i saved bc i wanted to read them but my brain said no. And it's tax season so I'm getting important papers in the mail and I cant fucking read them. Well I can read them but it's just words. Nothing is connecting up there. Thank god mom is here to help read that shit and translate but fuck do I hate this shit

Why can't my brain fucking WORK

[sensei-venus]

S1 Robby Keene Liking A Good Girl

(Unedied) (Honestly kinda tame for S1 Robby, Drugs mentioned, Weed Smoking, Drug Dealing, Reader had mentioned anxiety??) ( @gemini-sensei )

😈💕He’s kind shy at first when he realizes he may have a crush on the new girl at school. He sees her in the hallways, in class, at lunch, in the parking lot. He sees her everywhere. It doesn’t help that she is a “good girl” in his book. She’s not rich or stuck up, she’s just too nice in his opinion and doesn’t do anything that he would consider bad. To him he had no chance with her, he definitely didn’t fit in her kind of world.

😈💕It wasn’t until he found out that she had anxiety super bad that his views on her started to change. It was weird how all of it started.

“I uh heard you might have some weed?” She was a little nervous as she corned him in the parking lot outside the school. The bell rang over a hour ago and his friends ditched him not long after. She had come out of no where, clenching the arm of her backpack. He raised a brow at her appearance.

“I have my card if that makes this better, I just don’t have enough money this month to go the dispensary. My insurance won’t cover the amount I need- I kinda wasted half of mine if accident. You don’t want to know.” She nervously giggled. It wasn’t like Robby was going to question her on it. Honestly he didn’t really care either. He looked for the nicest bag he had on him, and secretly he may have given her more then he said. She dished out a good few bucks before wondering off. Robby was quick to count it and noticed that she had given him WAY more then was needed. Before he could even say something she was already gone. He pocketed the extra and tried to not think about it.

😈💕It started to get harder for him to pretend his little daydream crush wasn’t starting to get bigger as the days went on. He started to see her more and more in and out of school. She would give him small waves and smiles, which he gave back in smirks and grins. He hoped he didn’t look like to much of a asshole. But with his friends watching be and to keep his guard up. The boys where already getting supsious of his feelings.

😈💕He really didn’t think she would come back to him for more weed after that month. But she did, asking for the same amount every time. She simply told him that it was cheaper to get it from him then the dispensary. He didn’t know if that was true but he didn’t care. As long as he got to spend a few minutes with her every now and then. She quickly started to warm up to him, no longer acting as nervous or scared around him. Smiling more and even cracking a few jokes which he admitted made him smile. She was just so cute that he couldn’t help it.

😈💕One day he just couldn’t take it anymore and asked her if she wanted to go smoke with him. At first she was little embarrassed but happily accepted his offer. He had no intention of taking her to the little hideout where the other guys liked to smoke. So he decided to take her to his place. His mom had been gone for weeks and even if she did find them in the apartment smoking, she couldn’t say much. Her drinking and pills where enough to throw back her way to get out of a little weed smoking. It was a Saturday when she came over. He tried his best to get the place cleaned up, made sure the light bill was actually paid that month. Showing up at his door with a bag full of junk food and a small giggle on her lips.

😈💕They spent the rest of the day on the couch smoking and watching tv. It was nice, it was nothing like when he smoked with the guys. They where always high and taking shit about anything they could think of. There was no peace and quiet which is what he liked. Just getting high and chilling out for a few hours. Reader seemed to like the same thing as she just sat quietly next to him. Only occasionally laughing and giggling at what they where watching. They both seemed to like watching cartoons while high. The pretty colors and high pitch voices making them laugh.

😈💕It started to grow late but Reader didn’t seem to care. She offered to order a pizza which Robby had no issue with. They ended up eating and smoking more while watching a late night show together. That was when things started to change in the vibe that was going on between them that night.

😈💕 “You ever shotgun before?” It was a smile question. She asked while looking over at him on the couch. Robby didn’t know what to say, he knew what it was but had never actually tried it. She slowly shook his head. Reader giggled saying “Well do you want to try it? You can say no if your don’t want to.” He raised a brow before thinking it over in his head. He could at least give to a try, and he would be doing it with Reader of all people. The girl he had a huge ass crush on. With a small nod Reader smiles and takes a nice drag of the blunt she was smoking. Soon enough her soft hands are cradling his cheeks as she leans over to him. Their lips meet in a soft kiss, her tongue prodding at his bottom lip trying to get him to open up. With just a small amount of energy he finally does. She gently blows a long stream of smoke into his mouth. He can’t help but moan a little as he takes it into his lungs.

😈💕A few seconds later the kiss gets hotter and hotter. He’s grabbing at her soft thighs and belly though her shirt. Her hands move, one cradling his neck and the other on his back. Her fingers dig into the flesh of his shirt covers back. He rolls his shoulders as his tongue works along side hers. Smoke escaping though their lips. He can’t tell who is being louder with their moans. As the minutes pass by he can tell this isn’t the high that’s making them like this so much. Reader is fully invested in this kiss. Robby smirks into the kiss as he starts to realize this must have been her little plan. Offering to help teach him how to shotgun. God she was so smart.

😈💕The rest of the night is spent kissing and cuddling on the couch together. Robby doesn’t even care anymore about school or his friends. If messing with the chubby good girl was so wrong, so be it.

[aslyfcx]

I feel like I hurried back here too quickly and I apologized for leaving again so soon (taking a very very long break) after I announced I’m back. I thought I was ready but in reality I wasn’t. The threads are on hold, asks are on hold.

I’m gonna explain why I’m leaving again under the more section but it’s gonna touch some touchy subjects. It’s gonna be a veryyyy long post.

I am not asking for advice. I’m simply posting this because I want you guys to know what’s going on and why I’ve been on and off more often than usual.

Having an alcoholic stepfather scares me a shit ton because he just gave me a fucking heart attack because I could hear him coughing and choking from the living room while I was in my bedroom. Mom heard it too.

Mom, younger brother (he’s an adult, just want to clarify), and I dealt with him so many times because he has fallen a lot of times this year, stumbling around, putting his pajamas on only to fucking fall over, drinking every damn night…some days, it got to a point where he will drink in the morning and other days he just drinks all fucking day long. He denies being an alcoholic and he denies that he drinks even though he does.

My younger brother had to be the one to legit lift him up off the fucking ground whenever he falls.

On top of that, it’s bad enough I have to deal with helping my mom out with her grandmother and watching my mom be responsible for my grandma’s financial stuff because my grandma is still getting taken advantage of by my toxic ass sister and my toxic oldest nephew. They’re still fucking asking her for money even though they don’t even have the fucking guts to go to my mom to ask because they’re fucking scared of my mom and they won’t face my grandpa because my grandpa was fucking infuriated, told them off when he first found out.

This shit has been going on since February of this year and my mom’s been taking care of her shit for months, fucking months because nobody else knows how to handle financial shit. My mom never had a close relationship with her mom but damn—she’s only doing this to make sure my papa doesn’t get screwed over.

Everything is so fucked up and I’m tired of trying to put on an optimistic facade here in the server and out in public but I know I have to so I don’t have to make people worry…although I am finally getting all of this out.

I did let my therapist know but it just keeps getting worse and worse. I tried a new medication and that didn’t fucking help so I’m left with the current medications I’m taking.

And we had to look into my grandparents’ wills, we had to update my papa’s will with his consent because he didn’t feel right leaving everything to my toxic ass sister and my oldest nephew. My grandma basically just left every single fucking thing to my toxic ass sister and nephew, she made my toxic sister the representative in which we’re not changing because my toxic ass sister had been using her fucking card for OF aka OnlyFans, expensive shit too. We had to get her a new card when we first found out and then recently we had to close her card because somebody used her card for Hiltons Hotel which was $1,500 in which my mom declined that purchase, the bank closed her card.

My grandma is paying for my uncle’s rent and home (the home that should’ve been paid off years ago but it wasn’t), my toxic ass sister and nephew’s rent for the place they’re staying in, car insurance for my toxic ass sister and my uncle. My sister put my grandma’s name under her car on the fucking Audi while she wasn’t herself at the time. She fucking took advantage of my grandmother.

She’s paying for the goddamn truck that my nephew drives. She is paying for everything.

It hurts seeing my mom busting her ass and my own grandma doesn’t even care. She just jokes saying she will go to prison when we told her that it’s serious about this matter. She just fucking jokes about it.

My grandma has been diagnosed with primary biliary cholangitis back in February or so. She has liver issues and she doesn’t drink. She never fucking drank. She’s on medications to help her liver keep going and help get the toxics out of her liver otherwise she will not get enough oxygen to the brain if she doesn’t take these goddamn medications.

[castielsparkle]

I'm so jealous of your dad I got my mom into supernatural and obsessed with cas but she was soo confused when I even mentioned there being gay undertones. And she thinks dean's annoying 😕

/!!3?2$2; that is so crazy to me because . well. ok let me explain. my mom personally is evil and insane and when i was like 12 i would tell her about youtuber rpf and like. she is actively homophobic however she was a legit truther about youtube rpf ships which is. an entire thing. not an rpf guy btw need this to be known . not a fan. not about it whatsoever. actively disdain for it. Moving on. she still talks abt that stuff to this day. unprompted. despite being lgbtphobic love and light. MOVING ON. my dad literally like..... We did Not ask him to fucking do this . he started watching spn and anytime its on tv around him he starts going off about his gay dean truthing and how like. he doesnt subscribe to him being bi hes of the belief dean is a gay man. he also vibes with dean beinng a trans dude. he will make a comment about this at any opportunity . dean scene where hes like 'my boobs are real' cue my father unprompted immediately talking abt top surgery dean . hes insane. he says he is quote 'indifferent' abt trans dean headcanon. he says hes also quote 'indifferent' abt gay and bi dean however he 'sure does act gay with cas' which . is really fucking funny to me bc he put on a destiel compilation on youtube (?? did not fucking ask him to . i wanted to watch the 'deans gay thing' scene) and then it ended up being him critiquing fan compilations of deans behaviors and he even starts bringing up like . 'remember that time he looked at that guys ass in like the 50s' or whatever. like to prove there were better portrayals of dean being gay than in the destiel fan compilations on yourube. my god. he said yesterday separately to both me and my older brother about how he (my dad not dean) is like if gay was a gender and not a sexuality. not unpacking all that rn. but he said it to me when we were watching destiel compilation he put on and he had my older brother back him up abt how he said it earlier GSHJF. i dont remember whrte i was going w this. oh yeah. further context i am his only bio child ever . my older brother is found family we met like five years ago and he moved in w us at the end of last yr. bc dad offered. and before that he offered to move in my other bestie who i went to hs with who ive known for approx four years now and like . we are all trans guys btw. he offered to pay for our t if we set up ghe shit w insurance (this is happening rn i literally got my first t shot yday‼️) ANYWAYS.... all of this to say. my dad is always saying shit about jow destiel are gay or whatever. hes insane. no clue why. he insisted that like Yeah No its not even undertones is so blatant and overt that hes gay . he will say stuff like 'im not a fangirl i dont have headcanons' (insane sentence to hear btw) if u ask him directly abt it when were not watching spn bc it 'stays reserved for when were watching the show' but also like he will just. he. will say things. so much.

edit requests my dad has given me courtesy of my roomie from when they watch spn. in the car on the way to the store tonight he (my father) told me ANOTHWR idea he had which was when cas tried to speak to dean in lazrising and shatters all the glass and shit and hes like . quote. itd be a meme with the caption like 'autistic me not being able to control the volume of my voice.' which yeah. fire image idea. love it. he just says shit. hes always talking about how gay dean is and how detiel is real sorry i know this sounds like fucking down with cis bus and oppa homeless stylw and ahit i literally promise u im being so fucking for real. the first con i ever went to my dad took me and he dressed as naruto bc he doesnt 'kin' naruto but he says if he did kin it wouldbe naruto and pinkie pie . he also is obsessed w weird al. he knows rhat pinkie pie and weird al are married and have a child. he makes. interesting comments abt it when he talks abt how he would kin pinkie pie if he had to kin a my little pony. sorry this got way off the fucking rails. he also twitch streams twice a week. ive never watched sherlock but he did back in the day when it was popular. we also both watched doctor who together. sorry this got so divorced from ur ask anon my dad also got divorced he loves divorce. okay im so sorry im done now . also he says that sam is annoying sometimes

WDIT: SO FUCKING SORRY i forgot to add my dad said he quote 'kind of' would endorse this compilation . https://youtu.be/4McX1GUE3K8 he felt fairly positive about it.

[throw-away-account-69420]

Rant about autism. TW: Talks a lot about the downsides of getting a diagnosis, including but not limited to medical discrimination, blocking of visas, and guardianships/conservatorships.

As someone who was diagnosed with autism at a young age, I am often terrified by the way the laws effect me differently than my non-autistic peers.

There was nothing I could've done to not be diagnosed. I was seven and even if I masked the absolute shit out of not being autistic to doctors, the extensive tests they put me through would've broken through the act eventually.

Now unfortunately for me, I can be taken off the organ donor list, denied employment (although they will never say it was the autism), denied visas, and more. I just found out that sometimes Autistic peoples medical equipment are rationed because other ("more productive") people need it more. I found out that sometimes autistic people are put on do not resuscitate lists without their consent. Say what you want about non-discrimination laws, but in this day and age its like arresting people for jay-walking. Too common and more than likely will end with no penalty. Canada didn't even want us until 2018 and that was barely.

Then there's fucking guardianship and conservatorship shit that can be forced upon me without my consent. Like wtf. I don't even want to go into that shit because every time I look at it I am filled with fear and paranoia. Can't even trust the ones you love to have your best interests at heart. (I love my mom and trust her, but jeez. That's way too much power for anyone over my life.)

I'm a successful college student with an above average IQ majoring in an engineering field and I can be denied basic shit on because of sheet of paper I was handed when I was seven. They assume that because I am autistic, I am less productive than the average member of society.

It doesn't even get me any good accommodations! All my accommodations are geared towards my ADHD, so I literally gained nothing. The shitty ABA therapy I got for autism socially crippled me by isolating me from my peers and preventing me from forming natural friendships. I had to dedicate so much to a program I didn't ask to be in, didn't benefit from, and actively harmed any progress I was making by actively trying to make me dependent to them like I was some sort of cash pig.

For fuck's sake, when autistic people said a puzzle piece was offensive, people's initial reaction was not "We'll make an effort to use the correct symbol in the future." but "Not all autistic people are offended. My five year old son isn't." If I flip off your five year old son, would he be offended or would he be confused and start copying me like the impressionable child he is.

Sorry for the rant.

I'm just so tired. I don't wish to offend anyone or make it seem like I'm ungrateful for what I do have, but its terrifying knowing that in the next two years I'll have to make the decision to either limit my job potential by applying for disability, or do nothing and no longer be insured as a dependant. I have no savings because I was too busy with shitty ABA therapy and taking on two associates degrees (because of parental pressure) in high school to get a job. My mom has no problem with taking me in, but I want to have my own life like everyone else. Instead, I'm treated like a burden and blocked off from being my own individual. I'm scared.

[throwawayformydb]

Falling in love everyday

Note: this post was originally published on /r/DeadBedrooms

Today, I realized I'm falling in love a lot. It might be a waitress, a barista, or someone I see walking by. These women aren't necessarily provocatively dressed, they don't exude sexual energy or some other magical thing.

They just seem nice.

And as I sat here in a coffee shop trying not to follow the nice-seeming barista around the store with my eyes as she went about her duties, it occurred to me just how pathetic this is. I feel like that socially-awkward, hopeless guy that we all knew in high school—the one that you just knew would never get a date, because he'd never have the courage to ask for one.

Only for me it isn't a lack of courage. It's that I'm married to someone whom I love dearly, but from whom I no longer receive any affection.

She'd kill me if she saw me looking at other women. She'd be devastated if she knew how often I find my heart beating a little faster when someone who happens to be female shows me the least big of basic human kindness. A smile, a funny remark. A little cheerful banter.

Why does all of this affect me this way? Because I haven't felt it from or for my wife in... much longer than I care to admit.

Sure—we still exchange "I love yous" every day. I do everything I can to make her life easier. I help around the house. I offer to do school drop-offs and pick-ups. I help with homework. I also work endless hours in the business we've built together and carry far more of the weight than I should, or that's even close to sustainable. For her, we're better off financially than we've been in years. But I'm the one handling all the stress of the money and daily juggling all the pressures to make sure she doesn't have to handle the difficult stuff.

And we have sex once or twice a month. I almost never initiate anymore because it feels to her like I'm pressuring her. We've talked. We've had something similar to "the talk." She's going to work on it, she really is. But things have been hard. Transitions in parenting. Transitions in hormones. Being sick. Being busy. Extra stuff on the plate.

It all adds up. But what it adds up to is, "I don't matter." My feelings don't matter. The fact that I feel unloved doesn't matter. The fact that nothing I've done (including creating more financial stability) makes her want to be affectionate towards me—not to mention have sex with me—tells me that she really is the self-centered person I always told myself she wasn't. I made all the excuses for her. I've listened empathetically as she's told me tales of trauma as a young woman at the hands of guys who were abusive—verbally and emotionally, at least. I've tried to help nurture her and encourage her through body image issues (she's always been beautiful and desirable to me and she has heard this from me for 20 years now), eating disorders, depression, parenting difficulties... you name it.

I've tried desperately to not be selfish. Don't be "that guy." You know—the one that only cares about himself. The one that treats women like shit. The one that doesn't respect the effort and hardships that come with being a woman in today's society, being a Mom, being uniquely female. I respect all of that. I've always treated her right.

Until lately. Oh sure, I still treat her right. But inside I'm dying. I'm looking for love. I'm looking for affection, for attention. I crave basic human contact. Hugs (which I get from her, but not often), kisses, affection, making out. What would it be like to be kissed passionately?

And that's what I wonder when I meet a nice female. Do they know that inside I'm dying? That I want to be with them? Not to use them lustfully or just get off over their physical attributes. But to feel connected. To kiss. To love.

We've got a list of marriage counselors. With no insurance, some of these prices seem staggering. Is it worth it for me to go to sessions with a therapist and pay all the money when I feel like I've lost hope that any of this will ever change?

Should I just accept that we have a business relationship? A domestic arrangement? At least until we're empty nesters and I don't feel the need to keep a stable household like a good father? But by then will I have any desirability left at all for any woman I meet? Old and used up? My best years wasted on someone who just didn't have it in her—not maliciously, but just as a deficiency—to love me, desire me, make me feel loved?

Do the people sitting here in this coffee shop notice me discreetly wiping a tear from my eye? Do I look like I'm dying inside? I hope not. My facade is all I have left.

[vtforpedro]

personal/med update

My brain is fried mush right now. I survived my disability hearing on Tuesday. It was definitely informal, a little intimidating, but I feel I got through it well enough. My attorney said it’s a toss up because this judge is extremely professional and won’t give any indication and he sure didn’t. The vocational expert narrowed me down to like 3 jobs, then 2, then 1, then 0. I felt that was a good thing? Like am I not disabled if I can’t do any jobs? Either way, my age is working against me so we shall see. It’s very strange that you can be completely disabled and unable to work, but not by US law so they won’t provide aid. Blegh. Gotta wait another 1-3 months for his written decision. ._. Last Thursday, I noticed I had a ‘spot.’ I call them spots b/c I have eczema but I also had a bad ringworm infection in 2015 and called them spots then. Red spots that turn into rings. Anyway thought it was gonna be eczema but by Friday I was covered in many more. Cue me having multiple meltdowns about it interfering with my hearing if it got too bad lmao It didn’t, but it is bad! I had 49 ringworm spots as of last night and they grow in number by day. So, I went to see an NP b/c my dr couldn’t fit me in. Went as well as every other medical professional interaction has, which was terribly, and left me in tears and feeling beat down yet again by the medical field. She wants disabled me, who was bedbound for eight months and currently in PT to recover, to put cream on 49 spots and counting. With IIH and nerve damage that limits my movement and ability to stand for longer than 10-15 min. But she kept interrupting me and wouldn’t let me explain any of this. Her notes said ‘she is not usually terribly active’ so I guess being bedbound translates to that somehow??? She also said I had 3-4 spots on my breasts which is not what she was told by me or what her MA wrote down. lmao so guess who had to message her pcp again!!!!!!!! A completely healthy person can’t be expected to put cream on 49 spots 2x a day. For me, this involves washing my skin since I am unable to shower every day cause of the whole disabled thing. She said a lot more bullshit about my swollen feet and fatigue, so basically I got zero help. It was barely a 10min appt. Fucking hate them, I swear. She refused to give me the oral anti-fungal cause of my other meds, but my mom asked the pharmacist today and she said I’d be fine to take it. The pharmacist asked, unprompted, if an NP, urgent care or ER doctor said no to the oral pill and my mom was like YES! And she said they don’t understand it and won’t give it despite it being used every day even for yeast infections and athlete’s foot. She said her friend went through this shit too trying to get the oral pill. Back in 2015, I suffered this infection for 5mos while applying for health insurance/getting approved/waiting for a pcp because no NP, UC or ER doctor would give me the oral med lmao I saw my new pcp finally and he was like uhhhh no here’s a prescription for it you have way too many spots to worry about putting cream all over your body. Y’all I had been washing my sheets, towels, clothes, taking apple cider vinegar baths, soaking my spots in ACV, then applying one of five or six otc and prescription creams EVERY DAY. I spent two hours twice a day in my bathroom. Ringworm was what I did every day all day for five fucking months. I cannot fathom doing that again. It’s insanity. I was close to a mental breakdown and I only had MH issues back then, none of the physical stuff. I hate it here man Also why do I keep having shit happen every time I turn around. No idea why my feet are swelling, no idea why I have this abnormal fatigue that makes me teary because I sit here and stare at my screen unable to think of anything else but how tired I am. Like for long periods of time. She said to talk to my psychiatrist about it HOOOOOOOO. I woke up this morning and immediately started crying. It’s triggering being treated this way after three years of it. I should’ve waited to see my pcp and used otc in the meantime or something, but my pcp wanted me in asap for my swollen feet so I could get lab orders. Which, according to this NP, ‘there are no labs for swollen feet.’ Where did they get this lady She’s like WHAT ABOUT YOUR LEUKEMIA DID THEY CURE IT? I’m like my chronic, lifelong leukemia? No, it is in remission lmao chronic is right there in the name ma’am. It’s the first word. HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I’m gonna go cry again sorry for ranting I am so so so fucking sick of medical professionals and I cannot wait for it to slow down but my february is completely booked and march is halfway there. Chronic pain life baby!!!!

[sl1tcl1t]

Life Update: Idk where else to write down my thoughts and experiences for almost the past year.

To get myself caught up with the last post I made from last year, it was my final year in HS and I never wanted to leave that rancid hél/hø\e so damn bad. I finally graduated and got into college. This freshman year is the absolute worst. On top of that, I couldn't get a dorm room, which is expected according to the hierarchy of classmen. But anyway, this year's schedule has been extraordinarily harmful to my physical and mentally. Since I don't have a dorm, I gotta commute to my classes every single day. In my case, I must drive all the way from the south to the city (1hr 30min on avg.) This is not a bad drive, unless u wanna beat the I-75/I-85 9 - 5 traffic. Which ALSO MEANS I gotta wake up at 4:00 am and leave the house by 5 if I want to arrive in time for my 8 and 10 am classes. Additionally, my last class during Mon,Weds, and Fri ends at 5pm. I don't get home till about 7. AND on top of all that, Tue and Thurs is when I work my part time shift. The latest my shift can end is at 7:30pm and it takes me at least 30 mins to get home. If I want to get the most sleep possible, I gotta be in bed by 9. My sleep schedule bc of this is incredibly fùçk3d up. Luckily, me and my friend made a little room for me to sleep in my car. Which is also another problem. Bc Im too damn sleep deprived, I oversleep multiple times and end up missing classes. Classes where I can't easily get a PowerPoint w/readily available info to write. I feel incredibly behind.

My mental and physical health has gotten progressively worse since I moved outta my mom's house. I really don't wanna get into grave detail abt my family, but TLDR; both parents are complexly problematic, but one's more flexible than the other. But, Jesus Christ Almighty, living with this man is insufferable. Nothing but complaining, guiltripping, nonchalant shaming, and being plain irritating. He brings a wave of negative energy anytime he enters a room. Granted, there are things that he complains about that are justified, but he's getting more and more senile everyday. So he just gets mad at anything now. It pisses me off but also makes me sad. Another thing is that work is overexerting my well-being whilst giving me such a low pay. For context, I work in a warehouse now. Lifting boxes every other day that are half the size of you will give you nausea. My feet have blisters and my hands are cramping. My calves burn, my entire arm is aching, and my head pounds harder than ever. My friend suggests that I might have burn out, and I believe it with every bone in my body. Working at a place that accepts newly hs grads, ofc there would be å$5h0lés my age and worse. The smell has gotten worse since I moved in w dad. He essentially lives in a white trash neighborhood, so the smell outside is horrendous. This smell has affected the inside of my house and now I reek. And the ppl at work love to remind me abt my smelly ass despite trying my hardest to mask it. I seriously cannot stand other day in there and hopefully I can get a new job this upcoming summer.

But apart from all this, the cherry on top of this shit show was today after work. I got off early and wanted to visit this little gravesite around in my area to take pics and upload on here. I chickened out. It's too damn dark for me to take any so I walked around, contemplating life per usual. I decided to go inside the convenience store. I asked if there were any sleeping pills/melatonin and the guy had asked a question that made my mind go blank,

"Are you homeless?"

Never in life would I hear those words issued to me, but if I'm gonna be completely honest, I live at my dad's house, not paying any bills or insurance (yet), I sleep in my car majority of the day, and I have the worst pay to labor ratio. So technically, Imma borderline broke ass freeloading bum. But anyway, I was even more in shock when he rang my items. I forgot my wallet in the car and told him I was going to run out n grab it, but he just gave me the bag with an empathetic, "it's okay". And now I feel like a piece of shit to completion. Bc in hindsight, Im not HOMELESS, but it damn sure feels like I am.

I can't believe Im turning into every person I've met in the workforce. Ppl who just live paycheck to paycheck and just let the days past by; not doing anything but working. I use to make fun of those ppl at my last job as a cashier while in HS, but seriously, I got the realest reality check of my life. I really cannot live a life like that for 30+ years if I can't figure something out by graduation. Else I'm better off with maggots in my eyes and my skin wilting in the ground.

I'm done ranting, I need some sleep.... GN and happy Halloween ✌🏽

[cleoselene]

had a meeting with my neurologist today, the 3 month long talk meeting we have, and lmao. he just got back from vacation in Italy and I was like, "did you have a nice trip?" and he was like "ehhhhhh! I was on a plane for 23 hours to look at some old church! I would have rather stayed home with my dog." and I was like looool. I feel this. Then he started saying how it was depressing to look at the old medieval church shit, saying "some guy 500 years ago spent his whole life making this one part of the church. and that was his WHOLE LIFE!" and I was all "well... I suppose it's better than toiling in the fields for your lord?"

I think he really enjoys my visits because we spend most of it having bullshit conversation. the nurses have told me that they enjoy younger patients like me because a lot of the older patients have bad dementia and can't really hold a conversation. after Italy bashing, we had a discussion about the Great Depression Midwestern Casseroles we were raised on in our childhoods. His mom was a cream of chicken soup lady, though, whereas my household was always on the cream of mushroom side. Horrible fucking food, lol. Just the worst.

anyway, another reason I love him is because he is EQUALLY as over the bullshit the state of Florida makes us go through to secure my 120 pain pills every month. He HATES that he can't put in refills anymore, lol, and today I asked him to refill it like I do every month, and CVS sent me a text later in the day saying I needed to contact them because the prescription was "on hold." And I'm like bzuh? and then I notice my doc submitted the script three times when I went online, and called and hahaha. He submitted three SEPARATE scripts for the next three months to get around the "no refills" thing and this is something that CVS is very 50/50 about handling lol. In the past they have let him do it but they have also been like "lol NO" when he's tried it before too. Tonight the pharmacist got utterly confused by it and did not understand what the doctor was doing and said that insurance tried to process it three times, which lol. All because he doesn't feel like having to send an electronic script every month. I FEEL U, DOC. THE HOOPS THEY PUT SICK PEOPLE THROUGH TO GET MEDS ARE SO FUCKED.

but like, bless him? he NEVER gives me shit about maintaining my script, never tells me maybe I should wean myself off, never whines about the state putting pressure on him. He just fills it and lets me have what I need. I hate hate hate Florida but I am seriously worried that when I move my next neurologist will not be as totally awesome as mine. It wasn't like I got lucky with him, either, I cycled through three other neurologists (none of whom were MS specialists and weren't even capable of properly diagnosing me let alone treating me) before I found my guy! And he's just about the sweetest person you could meet and brings his aforementioned dog he'd rather hang out with than visit the Vatican to work with him sometimes. The good news is he networks like crazy and probably will be able to refer me to someone great. His referrals are always awesome, too. He does a lot of travel and speaking at conferences because he's a clinical researcher so he knows people, and I'm hoping he'll know the right person to refer me to when the time comes to escape this hellscape state

[mayalaen]

I can’t sleep tonight. My brain hurts and I’m still annoyed so I’ve got the electric pipecleaner man thing going on in my body.

Took my dad to the eye doc today to finally get his eye checked out - the one where he said they did cataract surgery but fucked up the replacement lens insert.

He lied to the nurse, lab tech, and the doc with almost every sentence he said and I kept having to correct everything.

Got to the point where they just started asking me questions instead of him.

Turns out the horrible awful terrible really bad cataract surgery that he’s been complaining about for FOURTEEN YEARS but hadn’t bothered to get checked out?

NOTHING WRONG WITH IT.

The lens he claims was experimental wasn’t (maybe he was the control in a group?)

The surgery he had on it to fix whatever thing he thinks the original doc did never happened - this doc looked twice just to make sure

His eyesight in the “bad” eye is just slightly worse than his perfect right eye, not near blindness like he’s been claiming.

The only issue is a mild amount of cloudiness behind the lens which the doc said happens in about 3-5% of the population. A 30-second laser procedure fixes it.

Dad let it go for 11 years and once the pandemic started he was like IT’S AN EMERGENCY I MUST GET IT FIXED but my mom and I were like yeah no elective surgeries can be done right now so you gotta wait and he didn’t shut up about it and did that lovely gaslighting thing where he tells all his friends we’re horrible creatures who abuse him.

Only reason we waited until now (even though elective surgeries have been available for a while now) is his insurance got fucked up (his fault) around the time the pandemic started and due to medicare and other shit, I only just got his insurance fixed. He refused to pay out of pocket to get it fixed, so he had to wait for the insurance fix.

Anyway I was so pissed by the time we got home I just went to work, but then my aunt started texting me.

She’s one of the other people besides my dad with malignant narcissistic personality disorder.

She was texting me all day acting like she had some big emergency and needed this thing that she couldn’t get from anyone else I had to get it for her.

Wanna see what it is?

Yes, that’s a travel pouch for a water bottle.

She was in hysterics that I needed to drop everything and get her one of these because she NEEDS it when she goes to the library.

This was AFTER she went onto Temu to try and buy one and entered her brother’s credit card info and it freaked the credit card company out and they shut down his card 😂

[mikasimaginairyworld]

The Umbrella Academy: Firecracker - Man on the Moon (4/30)

Umbrella Academy Masterlist

warnings: violence (torture), blood, substances (alcohol and pills)

word count: 3571

"Where is Number Five?", Cha-Cha asked for the fifth time, pulling even harder at the wire that was choking Klaus.

"Don't... stop... I'm almost there...", Klaus moaned.

Cha-Cha looked down on his lap confused: "Is that a...?"

"Yep.", Hazel confirmed. Disgusted Cha-Cha let go of Klaus. 

"Nothing like a little strangulation to get the blood flowing!", Klaus said coughing and grunting from the lack of air and chuckled. 

"What's so funny, asshole?", Hazel slapped his head. Klaus laughed cheerfully: "What's funny is... for one... you spend the last ten hours beating me senseless and you learned absolutely nothing. I mean, nobody tells me shit. The truth is, I'm the one person in that house nobody will even notice is gone. You assholes kidnapped the wrong guy!"

Hazel slapped Klaus again: "Please make him stop talking!"

Klaus had been kidnapped and beaten up by Hazel right before the man had escaped the academy in hopes of getting some information on Five's whereabouts. Well, Cha-Cha and Hazel were in for a huge disappointment.

 

Doctor Lance cheerfully walked up to his car and got it. He sensed that this day was going to be a great day. Unfortunately right as he was about to drive away Five blitzed on the passenger's seat. Five quickly leaned towards him and pressed a knife to his throat.

"One chance. That's all you've got. One chance to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab.", he threatened. 

"I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients. I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market.", the doctor stuttered.

"Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah, they're my biggest seller. I mean, they sell like hotcakes. I've got a list - a waiting list - probably 20 buyers."

"So the serial number told you..."

"Could've already been bought, yes. Off the books."

Five sighed heavily: "I needed that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!"

​​​​​​​"I don't have it! At least not on me. The only copy's in my safe at the lab."

"Well, you start the car then. We're going on a field trip."

Luther had been looking all over for Five but with no avail. Heavy steps came closer and closer to Five's old room until Luther's huge paw slowly pushed the door open. Looking into the simple decorated room he saw a figure splayed out on Five's bed. Going  inside the room he scanned its contents. Bloody bandages and towels were splayed across the floor. Upon further inspection the figure on Five's bed turned out to be Nailah who was completely blacked out. 

Her dark curls were dangling in all directions, covering her eyes and half her face. She was laying there in only her underwear and a huge shirt covering nearly her whole body. Luther grunted amused when he recognised the shirt as the one he had been missing for some days. A lukewarm feeling spread in his stomach when he remembered Nailah's habit of stealing his shirts to sleep in them. Luther's face crinkled when he saw the whiskey bottle Nailah was hugging. It was empty. 

Luther groaned silently but quietly knelt down and began inspecting Five's drawers hoping to find any clue  to where he might be.

"Number Five hasn't lived in this room since he was a boy, Master Luther.", Pogo said from the door and came inside scanning Nailah's sleeping figure. 

"Yes, I know. But we need to warn him. He doesn't know that we've been attacked. He doesn't know they're looking for him. He doesn't know...", Luther said not stopping his search. 

"What are you doing here?", Diego asked sharply. The brothers started each other down for a second. Diego's eyes darted to Nailah and the corners of his lips twitched upwards for a second.

"Do you know about mom?", Luther asked shyly referring to when he and Allison had found Grace shut off this morning.

"It looks like you've got what you wanted after all.", Diego said from gritted teeth.

"Wanna tell me what you're doing here?", Luther asked continuing looking around the room.

"Looking for Five.", Diego answered scanning the wall.

"Let me guess, you're gonna save the day.", Luther scoffed fishing the empty whiskey bottle from Nailah's arms and smelling it. He put it next to the bed with a disgusted expression.

"It's what I do. Asshole.", Diego said getting ready to leave the room. 

"Really? Last time I checked you mopped floors.", Luther commented inspecting Five's desk. Diego paused in the doorframe. 

​​​​​​​"And what do you do?", he asked turning around to face Luther and Pogo. ​​​​​​​"Sit on the moon for four years, waiting for orders?"

"Boys, this won't help us find Five.", Pogo tried to intervene.

"Keep on being a loyal soldier after everything our father did to you.", Diego ignored Pogo.

"What? You mean save my life?", Luther asked approaching Diego. Nailah mumbled and incoherent phrase in her sleep.

"No, I mean turn you into a monster.", Diego leaned against Five's wardrobe.

Luther's eyes darkened. His arm jerked forward and punched a hole into the wardrobe. Diego didn't even flinch but Nailah jumped up with a little shriek, her hair falling in front of her face in dark waves. Pogo sighed heavily.

"Can't hide it anymore, champ.", Diego smiled viscously.

​​​​​​​"He had a difficult decision to make and he made it.", Luther said with pain on his eyes. Nailah groaned loudly pulling her wild locks into a a bun. The few strands she didn't catch hung loosely framing her face. 

"Grow up, Luther. We're not 13 anymore.", Diego groaned while Nailah rubbed her face aggressively.

"That's what leaders do, by the way.", Luther countered. Behind him, Nailah took the bottle from the ground and tried to empty the last few drops before Pogo took it out of her hands.

"He send you on that mission all along. Almost got you killed.", Diego reasoned while Nailah threw Pogo an annoyed glance before turning her attention to her brothers.

​​​​​​​"Yeah, well at least he was there. Where were you? You and everyone else in this family? You walked out.", Luther said bitterly.

​​​​​​​"And thank Christ I did or I would've ended up just like you. Let me ask you a question. When you watch one of these nature shows, does. it turn you on?"

"Diego, please!", Pogo tried to intervene again but got ignored.

"So what? Is he just an animal to you too, Diego?", Luther pointed at Pogo.

"Enough.", Pogo said in a tone that even had Nailah straighten her back. "This house was attacked. We barely got out with our lives. And Grace... she wasn't so lucky." Nailah's eyes widened through the hangover fearing the worst. She looked at her brothers who only looked away. Nailah exhaled deeply.

"Your brother is missing and this is how you rise to the occasion? Take your nonsense elsewhere. And take your sister with you before she drinks herself to death. Now.", Pogo continued. 

Luther and Diego apologised silently taking Nailah by an arm and pulling her with them out of the room. 

​​​​​​​"You've got any clothes around here?", Diego asked scanning Nailah's bare legs in brith yellow socks.

"In my room.", she mumbled and the trio made their way to small bedroom next to Diego's. While Luther went to the kitchen to get some water and aspirin Diego waited for Nailah to get dressed. He scanned the room that was full of opposites. Tons of opened and unopened books were laying around accompanied by various dance and jogging attire. Language guides, dictionaries and lots of science magazines were scattered around the whole room. Above the headboard a severely overused and discoloured pair of ballet shoes were hanging by their ribbons. 

"You still dance?", Diego asked. "Occasionally. Don't really have the time anymore.", Nailah shrugged pulling a fresh dark green cropped sweater over her head.

"What with all that sleeping in a pod crap?", Diego snickered.

"You can laugh all you want but it works. Just look at me and then look at ... well... you.", Nailah countered putting on a pair of surprisingly well preserved red converse. Diego chuckled lightly. 

"There you go.", Luther handed Nailah the water and she drowned it immediately.

"Where do you think Five went?", Diego asked Luther. The brothers began arguing again. about where would be the best place to start looking.

"We could start at the car.", Nailah suggested while packing up some notebooks into a bag.

"What car?", Diego asked confused.

"The one where Luther found us yesterday. It's still there, come on let's go.", Nailah said walking out the door and grabbing the sunglasses on from her vanity.

Confused Luther and Diego followed her.

"Maybe you're not hitting him hard enough?", Klaus heard Hazel ask Cha-Cha who just scoffed at the comment clearly taking offence. 

​​​​​​​"Me? You're the one with the stupid orthopaedic bracelet."

​​​​​​​"I told you already. It's just for support."

​​​​​​​"Withdrawal. I'd staring already. Otherwise who's the dead babushka?", Ben asked Klaus who just glared at the old woman mumbling in Russian by the window. 

"I don't know but it's driving me crazy. The bitch won't shut up!", Klaus sighed and ignored Hazel's orders to keep looking forward.

Suddenly Cha-Cha and Hazel faced Klaus again, this time with his coat in their hands.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. What are you doing? That's mine. That's my personal. stuff!", he asked panicked.

One by one Cha-Cha pulled out various pills. As soon as Hazel realised how important they were to Klaus he began stomping on them, reducing them to powder. Klaus screamed in protest.

Ben ordered Klaus to be strong but as soon as Cha-Cha started swinging pills and cannabis-chocolate in front of him, they both knew hope was lost. 

​​​​​​​"I don't know where Five is, okay? I wasn't lying about that. But I can tell you that hasn't... hasn't been making any sense since he came back.", Klaus began with tears in his eyes.

"Elaborate.", Hazel ordered.

"I... uh.. it's just he's been acting like a... like a lunatic. He's been sitting in his van in front of a lab or something and looking for the owner of an eyeball. One of those fake ones."

"That makes no sense.", Hazel sighed annoyed.

"Hold on. Tell us more about this eye and why is it so important.", Cha-Cha interrupted. 

"He said. it had to do something with the end of times, or something like that.", Klaus choked out.

Cha-Cha and Hazel looked at each other and smiled.

Luther, Nailah and Diego soon found the place where they had left the van the day before. Luther frantically began to try to open the doors but they didn't bulge. Diego looked at him expectantly before taking over and picking the locks with his knifes in no time. He opened the door and the brothers tried to get past each other to get on the passenger's seat. "I'mOne.", Luther ended the struggle and Diego just rolled his eyes opening the backdoor before letting Nailah enter first not without a demonstrative bow. In her young body she reminded him of a little sister.

The siblings began searching the van. Suddenly Diego whistled. Nailah and Luther looked at him holding a book. It was Vanya's biography and the front page was covered in not only equations but a stamp from the Public Library of Argyle Public Library.

​​​​​​​"I think I know where to find Five."​​​​​​​, Diego announced proudly. 

"Great. I'll go run by my apartment real quick and I'll meet you there.", Nailah said and disappeared. Diego and Luther just shrugged and began making their way towards the other part of town.

Nailah arrived at the apartment panting heavily. She knew spending too much time in the pod could affect her physical performance but this was just a joke. She quickly disposed of her bag with the notebooks and went to the bathroom. There she first changed the dressing on her wound. Looking into the mirror she saw how the freckles that had usually covered her dark skin had paled. Probably from the exhaustion. She did look like shit. Huge eyebags under her tired eyes and her hair definitely needed a wash. She sighed heavily and put. her hair up in a tight ponytail hoping it would wake her up a bit. She splashed some icy water in her face then pulled out the bottle of vodka from under the sink she had hidden for emergencies. Taking huge sips she walked to the hidden door and after tapping in the code she went down the stairs to her lab. She checked on the stats of the pod. Oxygen, temperature, power. Everything was normal and ready for her to use. She took another huge sip from the bottle and promised herself this would be the last one. After all she couldn't go back into the pod drunk. She had to be squeaky clean. Closing the door behind her she grabbed a cap from the hanger and checked where the library was.

On her way there she spotted Allison and Vanya walk into a bar. Even though she wasn't particularly close with wither of her sister seeing them together having a good time send a sharp spike through her lungs. She wasn't jealous just sad. It had always been that way. Two of the sister together, never all of them. Always one left out.

Arriving at the library she quickly discovered were Luther and Diego were. She just followed their annoyed arguing voices.

​​​​​​​"You wanna know why I left?", Nailah heard Diego ask. She slipped behind bookshelves far enough. to not. be seen but close enough to hear the conversation. She knew everyone had their reasons to leave but she'd never bothered to ask.

"What? What are you talking about?", Luther asked coming closer to Diego.

​​​​​​​"Why I left the academy."

"Yeah, 'cause you couldn't handle me being Number One.", Luther answered.

"No. Because that's what you do when you're seventeen. You move out, become your own person, grow up."

"Oh yeah. You're a real grown-up.", Luther scoffed.

​​​​​​​"At least I make my own decisions. You've never had to hold down a job. Pay bills. You ever even been with a girl?", Diego know how. to push Luther's buttons. The giant looked at him confused and horrified. 

"I... ", he began. Nailah wanted to intervene to spare him embarrassment but a flash of plastic caught her eye. 

​​​​​​​"Look, you wanna blame me, blame us, for leaving that's okay. But maybe you're asking yourself the wrong question.", Diego's soft voice followed Nailah as she went to investigate where the plastic was. When she found it she sighed deeply and made her way back to her brothers.

​​​​​​​"Do you ever stop talking?", Luther asked right as Diego saw Nailah approach them. He send her a sceptical look seeing her in sunglasses again. Before he could comment on her state again she announced: "Come on you melodramatic morons. I've found our Number Five."

The she led them to where Five was lying passed out with Delores in one arm and a bottle of vodka in the other. "Is he uh...", Luther began.

"Drunk as a skunk.", Diego confirmed smiling while Nailah investigated the bottle.

Luther sighed heavily and picked up Five like a bride. Diego snickered at that and began gathering all of Five's notebooks into Five's duffle bag. Nailah emptied the rest of the bottle in a few huge sips.

"You really have a drinking problem, you know that?", Diego commented while Nailah picked up Delores with a disgusted expression.

Nailah send him a glare: "At least I acknowledge it."

"What's that supposed to mean?", Luther asked offended.

"Unresolved mommy issues and abandonment issues.", she just answered and made her way to the elevator not waiting for her brothers. 

Walking back the alcohol started to kick and and Nailah was enjoying the blissful rush in her blood.

"We can't go back to the house. It's not secure and those psychopaths could come back at any moment.", Luther suggested still carrying Five.

"My place is closer than Nailah's and no one will look for him there.", Diego offered as Five yawned waking up.

He looked at Luther confused who just warned him: "If you vomit on me..."

"You know what's funny? Ah! I'm going through puberty. Twice!", Five asked ignoring Diego's annoyed frown.

"You know I think I could help with that.", Nailah offered jumping over puddles.

"What? Puberty?"

​​​​​​​"Yeah. I've got my machine. If I can stop the aging process I can probably speed it up.  I could age you up a few years.", Nailah said giggling.

Five's eyes watered: "You would do that? Thank you!"

He then reflected and looked up again at Luther: "I drank that whole bottle didn't I?

"Not the whole. Nailah helped.", Luther growled.

"Where's Delores?", Five asked in a drunk panicked gurgle.

"She's here with me! We're getting to know each other. She really is a great catch. Here you go.", Nailah chirped handing Delores back to Five. Five embraced her delicately.

"We're drunk. But that's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye. Poof, it's gone. What are you guys talking about?"

​​​​​​​"Two masked intruders attacked the academy last night.", Luther said.

"They came looking for you.", Diego added in a fake cheerful voice.

"And they had the same masks as the guys that chased us at the mall.", Nailah finished.

"Hazel and Cha-Cha.", Five sighed.

"Who?", Diego asked while Luther complained: ​​​​​​​"You know I hate code names."

​​​​​​​"The best of the best. Except for me of course.", Five explained.

"The best of what?", Luther asked while Nailah whispered "Murder" ins ear.

​​​​​​​"You know, Delores always said she hated when I drink. She said it made me surly...", Five began.

Diego immediately caught him off in tone that let Nailah stop her happy bouncing: "Hey! I need you to focus! What do this Hazel and Cha-Cha want?"

Five gave him a huge smile. ​​​​​​​"We just wanna protect you.", Diego assured.

"Protect me.", Five scoffed. ​​​​​​​"I don't need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I've killed? I'm the Four frickin' Horsemen. The apocalypse is coming."

The he leaned back and vomited only barely missing Luther. "Ew.", Nailah whispered.

At Diego's shabby place in the box-club boiler room Luther placed Five gently on Diego's bed. Luther, Diego and Nailah stood above him looking down at their brother curiously. 

​​​​​​​"Funny. If I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep.", Diego commented.

​​​​​​​"Let's be grateful then that we know him.", Nailah said.

"Don't get cocky, young lady. Now go and drink some water.", Diego snapped at her to which she only chuckled: " Young lady? I'm the same age you are."

​​​​​​​"Highly doubt that. Physically and mentally.", Luther commented and Nailah scoffed but listened.

​​​​​​​"We need to find out what his connections are with these lunatics before someone else dies. You've met them, right? Any information you might want to share with us?", Diego asked Nailah.

"I know just as much as you.", she shook her head and Diego cursed. 

"All that stuff he was saying before...  What do you think he meant by that?", Luther asked but Diego noticed for him to be quiet. 

Calmly he slithered to the door with a knife ready in his hand. He opened the door with the knife ready to be thrown but was stopped on the last moment by the owner's annoyed voice: ​​​​​​​"You. throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I'm pressin' charges!"

Diego sighed in annoyed relief and put the knife back into the sheath on his suit. "What do you want, Al?", he asked.

"I ain't your secretary.", a small old man walked into the room quickly scanning Luther and Nailah.

"Some lady called for you, said she needs your help.", Al said.

"What lady?"

"I dunno. Some, uh, detective. I think she said her name was, uh, Blotch or something."

"Patch? She needs my help."

"She needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump in Calhoun.", Al said giving Diego a note.

"When?"

"About half an hour ago. She said she found your brother."

Luther and Diego looked at each other confused. "Klaus.", Nailah saved them roaming through Diego's refrigerator.

Diego immediately ran out the door leaving Luther with a sleeping psychotic Five and Nailah who was grinning like a kid when she found a week expired ice cream.

-> The Umbrella Academy Masterlist

[ceruleanwhore]

I got rammed by a dump truck recently, so I want to talk about insurance since it’s all new to me and my company told me jack fucking shit.

First off, the second they tell you your vehicle is totaled, return the plates to the RMV. You can do this online and don’t actually have to go fuck around at the RMV but what that does is make it so your car is officially gone so you can cr cell your policy and not be out here making insurance payments on a car that doesn’t exist. No one told me this, so I actually made a payment after my car was totaled and now I’m waiting on a refund.

Second thing is that, if you take time off from work to heal, you can put in to get your lost wages, but it takes fucking forever. My biggest problem with the aftermath of the accident was being broke and then (still) not having lost wages and, when I returned to work, not making money fast enough to stop being broke. If I had the money from that insurance payment or my lost wages, it would be different, but this shit takes forever.

Third is that they will tell you fucking nothing. You’ll make a million calls with a million questions and the super simple ones will be answered while anything they don’t like will get you bounced around between departments until you give up. That’s the other thing is you’re just supposed to magically know what to ask and which department to ask it of, or else you get fucked over. You’ll probably have one person who’s just there for your medical billing and then another person who’s assigned to your case, but pay attention to names on the stuff they send in the mail.

There are some things you can answer for yourself without calling your company, like if you live in a no-fault state or not. My dad found a helpful list of car insurance faq’s for my state and I’m sure they’re out there for the other 49 too. This actually is how we learned about canceling the plates.

The fourth thing is that, if your car is totaled, they’ll send an adjuster out to the tow yard it’s being kept in and then they’ll give you whatever they determine its value to be. For myself, I got a COVID car that was fucking $20k for a fucking three year old Corolla, but they valued it at $17k so now I still have to pay the remaining $2,000 (I’ve already paid off so the loan’s down to $19,000, not 20.) This is super fun because I don’t have a fucking car so I’m staying with my grandma and she’s driving me to and from work and now I have to pay off this $2,000 before I can even think about getting another vehicle.

That being said, apparently your insurance has ways of providing things like rental cars, which is my fifth point. Given that I haven’t actually procured this mythical thing and no one would ever rent to me without insurance providing this, I’m not 100% sure how this works. However, even in a no-fault state like mine, they can look at the situation and see that an old couple ran a stop sign and hit me with a fucking dump truck and now I can’t go anywhere and then get me some transportation.

The last thing I’ll say is to expect any and all phone calls to be intensely frustrating, confusing, and unhelpful. I was hardly able to do fucking anything on my own even though I fought tooth and nail but when my mom started making calls for me, stuff finally started moving. However, my mom literally built a file for me and took so much time out of her work days for this shit that she also wants to put in for lost wages because that’s how long you have to spend on the fucking phone. Oh and they’ll only be open 8-4:30 so good luck navigating around any work or school schedule at all to do that. They’ll also do fun things like wait a whole week to return a call or call your mom’s phone instead of yours for a callback, even though she said 3 times in the voicemail to call your number.

Now, if you’re neurodivergent, you’re kinda just screwed. I’m autistic and this whole thing makes me want to vomit and then stab like five people including myself. It’s deeply, deeply, painfully uncomfortable for anyone, but especially anyone who isn’t neurotypical.

[noctimusprime]

Vent post bc I don't have anywhere else to post it.

Warning for medical gaslighting, mention of pregnancy

I've been dealing with chronic pain since I was 15 largely caused by an accident and not receiving proper medical care (or really any medical care close to the time of the accident) bc my family didn't have insurance since my mom's husband at the time refused to ask for government assistance even tho I've been dealing with a blood flow restricting birthmark in my face that requires medical intervention from time to time.

I stopped receiving the medical intervention when I was 16 bc we moved states and no one in my current state knows what it is or how to go about it medically.

Most recently, I've been medically gaslit about my face, my severe chronic pain, and my hormone issues bc of my weight and my diagnosis of anxiety on my record.

In the months before I found out that I'm pregnant (before March of this year), I'd been dealing with severe pain that limits my mobility, my ability to work, and episodes where my heart rate reaches 200 bpm according to a fitness watch which I know isn't always accurate. I bought my own mobility aids without the assistance of my medicaid and when I showed up to my next doctor's appointment with concerns about my pain getting worse, her only concern was getting me to lose the mobility aids. She prescribed physical therapy that I had already been attending for 3 years, tpi's in my back, and told me to come back when the physical therapy worked. It doesn't. It hasn't and being pregnant has only increased my pain tenfold. The government food assistance I was getting was taken away because my partner apparently makes too much. We've been paying $1100 a month for a STUDIO apartment and we're literally starving despite my partner working 50+ hours a week.

We don't qualify for housing assistance, we can't get help from local churches because we don't technically have a lease since the apartment is an extended stay.

I feel so fucking helpless. My grandmother was supposed to help us with food today but ended up bailing bc there's food boxes in the area. I've already explained that the food boxes that run only run on days and times that my partner is working and I can't lift anything up 2 flights of stairs to our room. I don't have friends that can help me bc my chronic pain and quite honestly my isolating behavior when I'm stressed has either pushed them away or prevented me from making friends bc I rarely leave the house.

I don't blame these people, I really don't. I get that I'm not the best friend and I'm flaky and I'm not always in the best mood so it can be a pain to hang out with me. The friends that I do have live hundreds of miles away and are in the same boat as I am financially.

I'm just tired yall. I'm tired of not being taken seriously by doctors bc of my weight. I'm tired of being made to feel like my limitations are a burden on others when they're a burden on me too.

I'm tired of being nearly bedbound because it hurts too much to even get up and walk the 3 feet to the bathroom. I'm tired of not being able to eat half the shit we can afford bc it triggers my trauma or there's a consistency or taste problem. I'm tired of puking so hard I burst blood vessels in my eyes and no one can figure out why bc my labs are all "normal". I'm tired of every doctor blaming my pain on my weight bc there's nothing wrong with the bones in my spine according to the shitty ER doctors in my area. I'm especially tired that doctors didn't give a shit about me or my health problems until I got pregnant

[unfilteredgrounds]

Place

Whenever it seems like people are about to talk shit about where I live, I automatically get defensive. Because, well, duh, it's my home. I was born and raised on my farm, and once my parents die it will be my farm. Most of the time when people talk shit, they're just being classist assholes who have never taken the time to learn anything more about rural people than what they glean from Jeff Foxworthy specials and the worst of us running rampant on Facebook.

There are drawbacks with living out in the middle of nowhere. It's not like I can just have an aesthetic morning where I do a cute little jaunt to get brunch at one of numerous cafes, hit up the indie bookstore, maybe buy some flowers from a flowershop and go make pottery all in one day. I don't need to go through all that the small towns that are near where I live don't have to offer, because that's literally all other people who have migrated from small towns can ever talk about (the worst are those who do it with a sense of superiority, look, if you really love your town so much, why don't you go sell insurance there, townie-- I'm getting off track here). We do have a cute little cafe run by swedish immigrants, and SO MUCH lush forest life all around.

The plus sides to living in the middle of nowhere mean that I can go outside without my stupid brain reminding me that other people exist, and are probably looking at me. Being able to lay in the grass of whichever pasture I choose, doing whatever I want, is a godsend, and I now know that I'd be miserable without it. I love the animals on my farm, because animals are easy to understand and easy to get along with, and I love just being in the middle of nature, and the ability to pretend I know nothing of what happens outside my farm's borders (the world is on fire).

But it occurred to me, as my partner delicately mentioned the other day that "I think you could do with some time away from... that farm," that no place is simply bad on its own (I'm sure there are exceptions but I'm not here for that), it's the people that make it bad. When the words left his mouth, I immediately felt a sense of hurt, of betrayal-- he knows how much this farm means to me. But, thinking on it later, I realized he was trying not to say what really has had me in this rut. My parents. My lack of reliable social system. Of course he has no ill intent against the gravel roads, or the trees, it's that to an outsider, the people in my life, well, they look kinda shitty.

This realization is one of the reasons I don't talk about what bothers me, because I hate making other people look bad, and I hate looking like someone who only ever talks shit. Most of that is conditioning, but also because two of the most important people to me, my parents, are really bad at being that sometimes, and no kid wants to admit that. I love my parents, and I owe them a lot, so when I talk about the not-so-great things they say and do, I feel so guilty, like a traitor to some big alliance. But then things like my dad getting upset with me because I simply answered a question from mom and she (honestly idk how she managed to get pissed off at him from what I said that woman can make anything personal and insulting) got mad at him ? (he did not explain) happen, and I feel like my parents forget that I am their kid, not some hired hand to help out on the farm who's supposed to pick sides or whatever. At least with Dad, he forgets he's upset as easily as he forgets most other things.

I also felt guilty about even asking to take an extended trip. Which I shouldn't-- I don't often ask for things, and I certainly have done enough to earn it. I never complain when Mom takes me as an accessory to the trips she goes on-- I am once again dreading the trail ride this year because it will just be a lot of me sitting and being ignored while she and her friends hang out, and then get the occasional reprimand for "not being happy" enough even thought I get to come with. And yeah, I like riding, but I also like getting to talk to people who are interested in what I have to say, and every year I've asked to bring a friend, she gives me a scathing look and is like "oh so you don't want to hang out with me?" As if me sitting silently in the back while she and her friends talk about work is "hanging out."

See, if things really were as shiny and great with my parents as I present, I wouldn't have these feelings in the first place, and, as much as I hate to admit when men are right, my partner is right. I need a break from whatever the hell my family dynamic is. Even though our temps are far more bearable, and the pastures are green, mom has been texting and calling every day about rain, heaving dramatic sighs and grumbling when my answer is no. I really want to snap "Will you shut up about the damn rain already??? We're FINE. The sheep are FINE. Can you just relax and be content for fucking once?"

But whatever, it's been nice having a break from the doom hanging over the house when she's home at least, and I can go outside without wanting to die, so, plus for that. And I will have a good time away, regardless of whether other people approve of that or not.

[duchesstopaz]

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse, mental abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation, PTSD symptoms, anger, and anxiety.*

Saturday, Feb. 11th, 2023

9:55pm

Today has been so difficult. Well, really just the past few hours, but still. My family and I went to the store for shopping and groceries. I had an amazing haul of clothes from Wal-Mart (it was so good!!!), but it was filled with anxiety and self-doubt. It took me a really long time to calm myself down from that, which I am really beating myself up over. However, the main thing that has me upset is after we got home, where my younger siblings and I had to rearrange the room for our other brother, Anthony, to come back home.

My sisters needed to clean out from under their beds in order for me to move them to make space for Anthony’s bed. It took them literally 2 hours to do it, and it was not only frustrating, but unnecessary. I was put in charge of “managing this project”, and they made the process take so much longer than it had to (4 HOURS!!!). Plus, James (my step-father) had to keep receiving “updates” or involving himself every 30 minutes, which made it even more difficult. The girls just kept making excuses, getting distracted, or asking me redundant questions, and I was running out of patience. It takes so much energy to deal with them, and it just has to be my responsibility to micro-manage them.

My problem is that I am constantly the fall-back for James, and my mom supports it. Not only did I have to “run this project”, but James had the audacity to say that he’s “giving” me the responsibility of supervising the kids regularly clean the room. I have raised those kids in his stead. He hasn’t been a parent to them, he’s rather paying child support and free-loading around the house than actually stepping up. He stays in his room, keeps to himself, and uses us as free labor.

I’m not their parent! I shouldn’t have to look after them the way that I do. I am consistently present with them, checking on them, teaching them, helping them, feeding them, and he does none of that. It’s not fair to me, and I can’t even draw a boundary to separate myself from it. I get sucked back into parenting them to where I literally can’t make time or space for myself. 

There’s a reason that I don’t come home that often. This household and this family is a trap.

James and I were talking the other day, about a couple of things. He repeatedly said that he’s an “observer” and “picks up on the things he sees”. It’s so full of shit. He asked me why I never come home and why I’ve been gone for so long (3 years for college), and I had to scramble for a half-truth to save my skin and give him such a vague answer. That it’s because growing up here in this area was rough. He’s so perceptive, but can’t see that the problem stems from HIM. His abuse and how inactive he is as a father and how he walks around as if he’s a king.

I stayed away to avoid him, and being here now is just as hard as I thought it would be. I hate interacting with him, I’m tired of the anxiety from being around him, and I hate how he treats me. You know, he was like, “I can see that you’re pretty responsible, so I wanted to ask if you want to be back on our car insurance?”. Why do you even feel the need to comment on my responsibility? I’ve been responsible for years and it’s not a show for your approval, and has absolutely nothing to do with you. It’s patronizing and belittling. I’m an adult now, I want to be treated like one, and I’m going to treat myself with responsibility. Yes, I’m back living at home, but I’m clearly pulling my own weight by buying the groceries for the whole household each week. And, so much more. So much more!

I’m not your solution to your issues of being a neglectful, abusive parent. I’m not an in-home nanny, a maid, or a butler that caters to your every request. It’s not my responsibility to cover your tracks and then, be a stand-in for you, because you are too tired from work or annoyed or because you want to “watch your football”. Those aren’t my kids, they’re my siblings. And, it’s miserable. I just… can’t take it.

I’m literally draining myself for this family, and I can’t ever have the time or space to myself to recover, because it’s constantly filled with their needs and wants.

I’m exhausted, and I want it to stop. Please.

[mildew-mop]

I fucking hate Planned Parenthood. They are so fucking disorganized. The only fucking healthcare I can even somewhat reliably access is through planned parenthood for my testosterone - and they’re a fucking mess.

They somehow constantly do the opposite of update my information, and instead of sending mail to my current fucking address, or calling my goddamn phone number, they always contact old shit and are surprised when I am unable to make new appointments.

I have ADHD, and every time I have to deal with refilling my prescription; it makes me infinitely less motivated to keep trying. I almost ALWAYS have to go off of T in between refills, except for a handful of times they didn’t fuck up.

Most recently, they sent appointment-related mail to my mom. EVEN THOUGH I FUCKING UPDATED SHIT SO THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD THAT ADDRESS FOR MONTHS.

Earlier this year, I broke down crying, a nurse asked me if I was ok. I was charged $15 for an “emotional assessment.”

One time (a few months ago) I spent a month calling them every few days to fucking schedule an appointment, and in each and every phone call, I told them I had a new number and clearly stated my name and why I was calling. ONLY TO FIND OUT THEY HAD BEEN CALLING ME BACK AT THE OLD NUMBER I DIDN’T HAVE ACCESS TO!

The blood techs at planned parenthood don’t know how to draw blood. Since 2020, I’ve been to 3 different planned parenthoods (cause moving). I have to keep getting my blood drawn cause I’m on T. I think like maybe 2x have the techs at planned parenthood been able to draw my blood. It really pisses me off how fucking obnoxious they are about it. It got to the point where I regularly have to say “hey, if you aren’t 100% you can draw my blood, just write me a referral so I can go to LabCorp” and they fucking get all defensive, stab both my arms, get another tech to do the same thing, THEN they write me a fucking referral, cause they can’t do shit.

Planned parenthood phone calls go straight to voicemail regardless of day, time, holiday, whatever. You have to fucking rely on them calling you back at a convenient time.

When I finally took them up on their offer for therapy through them (they’d been pushing it since day one) I got this shitty-ass therapist who doesn’t fucking listen and I ended up stopping going to her (it was virtual but still) cause I had no way to contact her. Not that I would want to. Like most therapists, she just kinda sits there when you talk about your trauma. Typical listens to you talk about your horrific childhood then goes “hey you said you have a pet? tell me more about that” instead of offering advice type of therapist.

I already have to deal with being stuck on my parents’ absolutely garbage and overpriced insurance. I have to deal with ADHD and generally not liking to make phone calls. I fucking hate this shit. I cannot access any other healthcare currently (no one is accepting new patients and even if they were, I couldn’t afford them), and I want to at least stay on my goddamn hormones and the only place that lets me fucking do that wants it to be as hard as possible.