#i promised myself to never vent on social media BUT HERE WE ARE. my god

[imaginespazzi]

Alright so I slept on it, distracted myself and I have now cooled down considerably. Since I am no longer looking at the game through completely rage-filled glasses, I can vent coherent thoughts now.

LAYUPS

FUCKING LAYUPS

Listen losing games is always hard, but the sheer stupidity that lost us this game is hard to discern in words and really starts with layups. We make literally 3 more, and we would have won. The most simplest there is in basketball and we decided that we wanted to suck at it. And look you don't make every shot, of course you don't but HOW MANY FUCKING OPEN LAYUPS CAN A TEAM MISS?

Brief positive interlude, before I start yelling: KK ARNOLD I LOVE YOU. I am so proud of this girl. A true competitor from start to finish. Never fucking scared of the moment, always ready to do everything she can.

Aubrey Griffin is starting to look like herself again. She was so good last night and everything we're used to seeing. Just keep healing bbg, we're gonna need you real bad.

Sarah Strong, consistent queen as per always but she made that freshman mistake at the end and while it would be hypocritical not to acknowledge it, I really can't hold it against her because homegirl was the only starter locked in from start to finish and for some fucking reason we didn't go to her nearly enough in the second.

And now let's get to the venting

Jana El Alfy I cannot keep defending this. YOU ARE 6 FUCKING 5. Look I have had so much to say about her not getting the time she deserves but oh my fucking god, I don't know if I can defend this anymore. Missing easy ass layups, somehow letting people a feet shorter shoot over you like??? I cannot

Kaitlyn Chen girl what the fuck are you here for? Cardio. She pleasantly surprised for me exactly two games but nope, I was right the first time. There is absolutely no reason, other than a likely promise Geno made while recruiting her, for her to be starting over KK.

Ashlynn Shade, you are so lucky girlie that you play with Paige and Azzi and they also both had shitty as fuck nights that I will address in a second because girl, that's the only thing saving you from not being lashed out into oblivion on other social media sites right now. I have absolutely no idea she was ever in the game let alone how she was getting minutes over KK. Defense? Atrocious. Offense? MISSING WIDE OPEN LAYUPS AND THREES. No one pissed me off more this game than Ash because shit should've been easy for her and instead she missed every single chance she had.

Paige saw all those tweets manifesting her freshman year Tennessee performance by a bunch of people who don't know anything else about that game except for the magical shot at the end and voila, she performed exactly like that. Maybe worse. And don't worry friends, I'll be yelling at her coach in a second but the one thing I can't complain about today is that he didn't put the ball in her hands because he did and we saw it in the assists but she didn't play up to the mark at all. And for as much as her performance was a classic case of shots not falling, her shot selection was uncharacteristically bad last night.

Y'all know that look Paige talks about when it comes to Azzi? The soft one? I saw that look on her face immediately as soon as her first shot didn't go in. And I knew it especially when KC was wide open under the basket and Azzi somehow missed her, that she was most definitely in her head. But the worst thing is, that I actually think she almost got back in rhythm, almost got rid of that look, almost got out of her head, by the end of the 2nd with the sequence of FTs > deflection > 3 and then all of that went to shit because she picked up those two quick fouls. And then she never got back into it again, partially because of her own self, partially because this team still isn't doing enough to screen for her/run plays for her and partially because her coach was doing the most ridiculous subbing routine with her. Making her play the third with 3 fouls, then she finally hits a 3 at the end AND THAT'S WHEN HE BENCHES HER? Keeps her out of the game in first 5 minutes of the 4th, lets her lose any semblance of rhythm and then subs her in? I don't even know what to say.

Geno Auriemma WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU

This man had the audacity to sit in the press conference and blame every fucking thing on Paige when he, our hall of fucking fame coach, made the most costly mistake of this whole game with that dumb as fuck timeout. STUPID STUPID STUPID

And then of course the lineups and substitutions, ridiculous shit.

SIGH

The worst thing is, I don't think Tennessee beat us last night. We broke the press. We held them to 7-28 from 3. The boxscore has us beating them in so many places but at the end, we beat ourselves.

And it all comes down to the fact that maybe we just don't have the mentality.

Last night really drained a lot of optimism from me but these are my girls and the potential is infinite. I'm always gonna be rooting for them and little itty bitty hopeful part of me will always think we can win it all but I think, we're gonna need a lot of things to just miraculously go right.

[sofreddie]

High School Reunion 2

Summary: Someone at the reunion has a big mouth.

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,087

A/N: Inspiration struck out of nowhere and this piece was born. I have a very rough outline for a small series, maybe about 6 parts? We'll see. It's gonna happen randomly, no planned schedule for this one.

PART 1

Y/N bit her lip in excitement and saw a message from Lana. She immediately opened Skype to call her best friend…and thank her.

"Hey you! How was the reunion?" Lana smiled as her face appeared on screen.

"Oh my fucking God I can't believe you!" Y/N screamed, though it was mostly excitement as she blushed profusely.

"So…I take it you had a good night then?" Lana grinned cheekily.

"How could you not tell me you met Jensen Freaking Ackles?! I thought we were friends?" Y/N pouted dramatically as she plopped back on her couch, phone still in hand.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep it from you?" Lana screeched in response, "You remember my last night at the convention, I went to that place for dinner that had the amazing burger?"

"Yeah, I remember. You said you loved the place, that it was a perfect ending to the trip," Y/N remembered, "Now I get why."

"Ok, yeah, so I'm sat at the bar with my burger and a beer and he comes in and sits with a chair between us. I instantly recognized him, but was trying to keep my cool, you know. But he remember me! From the photo op! So we just got to talking and you had just split with Chase and I was so worried about you-"

"Oh Lana, you didn't," Y/N groaned.

"I was just venting about how much I hated that douchebag and what he did to you and what you were going through and how I was so worried about the reunion but thought it could be a good thing for you after Chase-" she rambled on, her words quickly tumbling forth as she pleaded her case to her best friend.

"You're not mad, right?" Lana asked timidly.

"How can I be?" Y/N shouted, "He walked in there all suave and shut down my high school bullies - who were trying to start some shit let me tell you-"

"No!" Lana gasped, "Amanda?"

"And the others," Y/N sighed, "And they were trying to cut in on me and I was gonna run, I'm not gonna lie," Y/N chuckled lightly, "But then he was just there. And she introduced himself as my boyfriend….Oh my god, Lana! What if that gets out?" Y/N sat bolt upright on her couch in a panic.

"Whoa, Y/N, calm down," Lana insisted, "More important than that…he introduced himself as your boyfriend?!"

"Lana!"

"I'm just sayin'-"

Y/N sighed dreamily, "Then we danced. Then he took me for a drive and we parked up at the spot and ate burgers while chatting and watching stars," she sighed again, as if it were a scene from a romantic film she had just watched.

"That sounds like a date," Lana helpfully noted.

"I thought that too!" Y/N squealed, "But that's just the fangirl right? I mean, there's no way."

"How many times I gotta tell you you're a catch, woman?" Lana laughed, "I'm not surprised at all. In fact, I'm taking credit. You're welcome," Y/N groaned once more and Lana chuckled.

"Did I mention we exchanged numbers?" Y/N added with a grin.

"And now I hate you," Lana huffed.

"Yeah, love you too you meddler."

Y/N sighed happily to herself once more as they ended the call. She tossed her phone on the coffee table as she relaxed back into the couch. Her eyes fluttered closed as she replayed the evenings events in her mind.

She had to be dreaming. There was no way this was real, right?

Too tired and content to carry herself off to the bedroom, Y/N laid down on the couch, settling into the plush cushions and dragging the throw from the back of the couch to cover herself, falling asleep quickly and dreaming of shimmering green eyes.

Jensen groaned as he slowly came awake to the incessant ringing and chimes of his phone. He opened his eyes, grabbing for the phone and peeking at the time.

6am.

He and Y/N were out past midnight. After he made it back to the hotel, he had spent the better part of an hour sipping on a beer as he thought over the night he had with her.

He wasn't sure what compelled him to talk to Lana in the bar that night. He could tell she was a nervous fan, and he remembered her from the photo op, just as nervous and shy. But after a beer or two with her dinner, she relaxed and their conversation flowed. It was nice, to be chatting away with someone new, different.

When she went on about her best friend Y/N, Jensen felt something. Apparently the way if affected her friend was severe enough to have Lana in real turmoil over it. Jensen knew what that was like. He'd worried over Jared a time or two just the same.

When Lana gave him a picture, however, his heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful, with a charming smile. But he could see her eyes were sad and guarded.

When he realized the reunion was a few hours drive and a few days ahead of his schedule to be at another convention, he decided to make the stop to see Y/N at the reunion. At the very least he could chalk it up to a memorable fan moment.

Jensen rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he reluctantly sat against the headboard, checking to see why his phone was blowing up.

It took only a quick glance through the various calls and text and emails from various persons all talking about the same thing. Jensen opened the text thread from Jared, scrolling through the messages and clicking on a picture that was include.

It was him and Y/N dancing together at the reunion the night before. She looked as amazing as he remembered. Her smile was bright and genuine, but so was his. Apparently word had spread from the reunion that he and Y/N were together. That's when he remembered introducing himself to those girls as Y/N's boyfriend.

He wasn't so bothered by the turn of events, which surprised him. He had decided the night before that he wanted to ask her out on a date. Their chemistry was too intense to not pursue.

What bothered him was how she'd react. They'd literally just met and had a friendly, albeit great, evening and now she was possibly going to be bombarded with paparazzi and everyone in her business.

So much for that date.

He knew it was early, but he wanted Y/N to hear from him first. He opened the new message thread between them, seeing her text from the night before and smiling once more, before typing out his message.

Hey, Y/N. Hope you slept well. Was hoping to talk to you about something.

He sent the message, noting the time, and figured he'd give it some time. He didn't know her schedule, or anything about her really. With a groan, Jensen hit the green button to return one of Jared's missed calls.

"Dude!" Jared exclaimed as he answered after one ring, "I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours!"

"Yes, Mom, I'm aware," Jensen said with a yawn.

"Did you see the picture?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Jared pressed for more, "Why aren't you freaking out about this?" Jared scoffed. Since his last major relationship ended, Jensen hadn't been with anyone really. An occasional date here and there for an event. But he hadn't seemed interested in anyone at all, and was quick to shut down any insuinuations to the contrary.

"I guess I should of seen it coming," Jensen shrugged, "I did introduce myself as her boyfriend after all."

"You what?" Jared was shocked, trying to wrap his head around it, "Why would you do that? Is there something you aren't telling me? Have you been dating her for a while? Who is she anyway?"

Jared fired off the questions in rapid succession like an excited puppy.

"I gotta talk to her first," Jensen said, "I'll see you at the convention in a couple days. You can interrogate me then."

"I want all the details."

"Don't you always?"

Jensen ended the call, taking a deep breath. He felt so stupid for what he did. He wasn't sure why he did that other than to shut those girls down. He really hated bullies.

He decided to get dressed and grab a couple of coffees on his way to Y/N's house. A quick look at his social media had told him that picture was blowing up. She was bound to find out sooner rather than later. He had to tell her first.

Y/N slowly roused from her deep sleep on the comfy couch, hearing an incessant rapping coming from her front door. She stretched, reaching for her phone on the coffee table and finding it dead.

She rolled her eyes as she threw off the throw, climbing from the couch and shuffling to the door and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

She flung open the door, the morning's cresting light just bright enough to assault her eyes. It took her a second to focus, but then she saw Jensen, a small smile on his face and two tall coffees in hand.

"Jensen?" she asked, so very confused and wondering if she was still asleep.

"Hey, uh, I know it's early. But I really needed to see you this morning."

The smile he gave was sweet, but she could tell something was up. Was he worried that maybe she'd go blabbing about their night together? She'd never do that. But she guessed he didn't know that.

"Sure, come in," she smiled warmly, stepping aside and gesturing him into her home. She accepted the coffee as Jensen passed it to her on his way in. She shut the door behind him, taking a whiff of her drink before taking a long gulp, closing her eyes and sighing at the flavor.

"So, what's up?" she asked, shuffling on her feet, "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"You're welcome," he smiled, now genuine and inviting and Y/N's heart stuttered slightly at the sight, "I was hoping to talk to you, about last night."

She shook her head, "I won't talk about it with anyone, I promise. Well, other then Lana. I had to call her last night. Yell at her a little," she blushed.

He laughed, nodding his head, "No, I get it. But I wasn't worried about that or anything," he was quick to correct, "Actually, someone else already did."

"Did what?"

"Someone got a picture of us on the dance floor last night and might have said I mentioned I was your boyfriend," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh," she responded, clearly shocked and not sure what to say.

"I just wanted you to hear it from me first, you know? Before seeing it online or whatever."

"Online-" she echoed, her eyes going wide, "So, you can just post a Tweet or something that it's a mistake."

"Okay, well, to be fair, I did introduce myself as your boyfriend to those other women last night."

"Yeah…why'd you do that again?" Y/N smirked despite herself.

He shrugged, "Seemed like the right thing to do. Shut 'em up didn't it?" he grinned, "Besides," he chanced, stepping closer to her," Feels like we had a date last night."

She blushed hard, ducking her head before meeting his eyes once again, "Yeah, it did."

"And I was hoping you'd like to do it again."

"Really?" she asked. She couldn't help the dreamy look in her eye. She still couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yeah. So if you say yes, then we'd be dating, which is practically boyfriend and girlfriend," he explained casually, "So I think we should just keep doing what we're doing and let it ride. What do you think?"

"I think you might be a little bit crazy," she nervously laughed, "Let's start with a second date," she grinned, seeing him brighten up, "And go from there."

"And the press?" Jensen chanced.

"Let them think what they wanna think," she shrugged.

"You're freakin' perfect," he chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, even though she still had bedhead. He smiled at the cuteness of it.

"I should go freshen up!" she realized, seeing him look over her disheveled state, "Uh…be right back." she rushed off down the hall and Jensen laughed to himself.

He had a good feeling about this.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

[whocares-anyways]

it has been a month since i’ve checked my ex boyfriend’s social media.

holy fuck that feels so good to admit.

i used to sit and check every day, torture myself with every single stupid fucking post. every single story, retweet, reblog. every time he posted some dumb girls messages. every time he tried to bash me on the internet. i saw everything.

i would sit and call my friends just to vent and just talk shit. the last time i looked i have to admit, the context of the post really made me break down and cry.

but now that i have taken a step back, i have realized that there is nothing, and i mean absolutely fucking nothing that someone can say or do that will bring me to the level that that boy has gotten me to.

sometimes i think of all the nights i would sit and cry and wonder why i was never good enough for him to stay, why he could never love me the way i loved him, why he could never just be nice to me and treat me with respect, why i was just this blob of nothing to him, when he was everything to me.

and now the tables have turned.

i accepted everything. the lying, the cheating, the abuse, the disrespect, the gaslighting, the manipulation.. everything. and because of his mental health issues, i still stayed. i gave him the excuse. you know, because if he��s not all there, how could he possibly know better? right?

no, he knew better.

and he chose not to do better.

after all of the pain he caused me, i forgave him. from stabbing me in the back and sleeping with me best friend, to acting like he gave a fuck about me when my brother died, i forgave him. i took him back, and not even just for me, but for him.

i genuinely felt like i could help, like i could make a difference. but why would i ever think that? it’s been 7 years and i think now is the time when i can make a difference? why would i ever think that?

i promised, i swore. i would never leave. and i fucking meant that. but then i realized, he never promised me back. he never swore to me back. that constant fear of being left and not doing enough was so overwhelming. even when i knew i was doing the most.

when i realized that my daughter & i did not come first anymore. if we ever even did. i knew then, that i had to leave. i had to.

i really didn’t want to. but i had to.

telling someone how hurt you are, and they choose not to fix it, not to do anything and everything the could do to fix it.

to love you, to learn you, to want you, to keep you.

nothing. absolutely nothing. why would i stay?

but now that i left, when he needed me.. like he left me, when i needed him, i’m the bad guy?

but i supposedly i never cared. i didn’t mean anything i said.

because the sexual connotations and he so desperately needs from trashy women fulfill him.

because skinny girls do it better. right?

wrong.

he will always be wrong.

you see the difference between him and i, is that i don’t go searching for him in others. because i don’t want to, i don’t need to.

i don’t want to fill the void, or distract my hurt. i want to feel it all, let it come and let it go. completely. until it’s gone.

not distract myself from my own thoughts by thinking i want someone new. because i don’t. because somehow my heart is still with him.

and one day it won’t be.

and when the day comes that he realizes that, he’s going to be in love with someone new and he will reflect on all of it.

all of the love i gave him, all of the time he wasted, all of the heartbreak he caused me, all of the damage he’s done.

and then he will realize that she will never be me, because no one will ever be me. and that day will come.

because she will leave.

as much as i want to wish for him to be happy, even if it is with someone else, i can’t. i’m not ready for that.

i cannot wait for those days to pass. but it’s really hard, because he and i know damn well, i was the one.

as much as i want to be bitter, i have to choose everyday not to be.

i am here to reflect, to learn, to grow, to prosper, to, to be happy. to choose my god damn self.

to all of the fears i’ve overcome, to all the bridges i have crossed, to the milestones i have made, to the goals that have been met.

here’s to 1 month and many more to come. 💫🥂

[highabovethecloudssomewhere]

The BNHA Fandom and why I haven’t been creating content for it

I’d wanted to do this several months ago, when I first returned from my break through the month of February, but at the time I was wound to the point of snapping, exhausted, and overall in a pretty rough state of mind creatively. I’ll go into why in a moment, but either way, now, I think enough time has passed for me to be able to articulate my thoughts in a readable way that makes sense.

Before I get into it, let me start by saying:

A lot of this is personal. A lot of you will agree with me; a lot of you will disagree with me. Overall, please take this as my own personal thoughts and experiences. I’m doing this in the hopes that you can at least understand my mindset and where I’m coming from. I’m not attacking anyone particularly. I just want you to be able to understand, because you’ve all stuck with me this long, and feel you deserve an explanation.

This is not a callout post. This is just me, a tired writer and creator, explaining my mindset in a way that I hope you can understand. And maybe even relate to.

This has been long overdue. Here we go.

I started writing fanfiction for BNHA somewhere in between the spring and summer of 2017. Around that time, the show’s second season was airing and quickly gaining traction. I hopped on the bandwagon, fell in love, and began creating content for it before I even finished watching the anime. 

From there, I read the manga, and before I knew it, I had a new favorite series. And for a long time, it was my favorite series. I loved the cast of characters, I loved the engaging story, I loved all the different arcs, and I loved how the characters played off each other and grew through each other. I still love the characters with all my heart.

And this is where I start ranting. This is where a lot of you are gonna disagree with me. This is where the fandom divides.

Because ever since last year, the fandom has been in a meticulous state of divide, hate, arguments, controversy, and disarray. And suddenly logging onto social media to breeze through a boring 10 minutes became a truckload of fandom divide, arguments, hate, and overall toxicity. 

Of course, not all of the fandom is like this. It’s wrong to generalize like that. But oh my god, the divide in the fandom is bad. Maybe it’s not as bad as it could be. I’m sure it could be a hell of a lot worse. But it is bad. And it didn’t help the fact that [SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA] Endeavor, one of the series’ most hated characters (up to a point), had his own development arc. As a survivor of abuse and someone still fighting through it now, seeing this abusive character get such an arc in the story--arcs that his abused wife didn’t get, arcs that his abused children (sans Shouto) didn’t get--really, really crushed me. And that mashed with the declining state of the fandom for a whole mess of hurt and disappointment. [END OF MANGA SPOILERS]

Since then, it’s only gotten worse. The arguments are more heated than ever. The creator is being harassed (again, actually. This isn’t the first time). There’s so much war between users in the fandom, and even if the entire fandom isn’t a part of the fighting, they’re still affected by it. They’re like me, trying to make my way peacefully through it and inevitably running into so much divide and hatred it’s unbelievable. 

Every fandom has its bad parts. But as of late, all the bad in the BNHA fanbase has been more prevalent than the good. And that’s not even going into the issues I have with the original source material, or the fact that I’m no longer reading it. I’m not going to get into that, because that isn’t the point. 

And here’s where it gets personal. Here’s where “general fandom crap that every fandom has” became even more than that. 

In February of this year, I needed a break. So I took one. I posted no content through the month of February, consumed some other media (Ao no Exorcist and Mob Psycho 100 specifically), wrote stuff to post come March. And it was alright. Taking a break from the fandom was just what the doctor ordered. 

And then I returned. And I started posting again. And god, did the floodgates open. 

The attacks, the toxicity, the hate, flooded into comments. Demanding why I didn’t update when they wanted to; questioning what took me so long; ordering me to never do that again. Several comments that only contained the word “finally.” An entire, maxed-out page of the word “update” and nothing more. False accusations that were removed/deleted before anything could come out of them. And now, recently, a stolen work of mine up on Wattpad. 

If you go looking into the comments sections of my fics, you might find a couple. But only because I didn’t delete them. Up until this point, I’d hoped I’d be able to shove it under the rug, so to speak. After all, in my experience, the fandom was already full of toxicity. Of course. I should expect it, right? Expect it, not let it get to me, and move on. 

Except, it didn’t stop there. When I started posting again in March, along with my BNHA updates came a few works from the other fandoms I’d dabbled in. Specifically, Mob Psycho 100 fics. 

The bulk of the comments I got on those MP100 fics (comments which have long since been deleted, of course) were from anonymous users demanding to know when I was going update my BNHA fics.

Crazy, right. Give them nearly 1 million words worth of content from one fandom, and the second you try creating anything for another fandom, they come at you with pitchforks. It’s... actually really sad. And I felt trapped. 

Because at that point, to them, I was a creator. I was a writer. But I wasn’t a person. 

And of course, not everyone was like this. The majority of people were happy to see me writing again. They were understanding and encouraging, not just of my works, but of my taking time off, too. I have a wonderful community, I really do. And I’m so thankful for each and every one of you who offer such positivity towards me and my works. Those of you who treat me like a person.

But... it was a lot. Too much all at once, really. During what was already a really hard, dark time in my life. During a time when the majority of the stuff I wrote were vent/coping fics, because writing was the one thing I knew I could run to for solitude. And, by the end of February, I was scared of updating my bnha fics. Because I didn’t know if I could handle every update ending in a flood of demanding comments from people who cared more about what I could give them than about me as a person. 

You may be reading this and think I’m overreacting. You may be looking at all this and saying to yourself, “Oh, that isn’t so bad. [Creator] has been through worse and they’re still writing.”

Which I guess then begs the question: am I overreacting? 

No. 

No, I’m not.

Because this incident made me question my worth as a writer. Made me question if I was only worth the content I'm able to produce. And as someone who’s already driven by my abilities, as someone who already pushes myself, as someone who can only be proud of myself if I have something to show for it (which is a toxic mindset that I’m trying my damndest to work myself out of), this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

On one hand, when I was able to pull myself through this whole fiasco, when I was able to ingrain it in my head that I’m more than what I create, I was okay. I could write. I’m still writing now. Focusing on an original project as well as smaller projects in other fandoms. 

But on the other hand, the past couple times I’ve opened any WIPs I have for my BNHA fics, I’ve hesitated. I’ve opened them, and they were left open, untouched, until I closed them at night before I went to bed. 

Because I couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

Because I can’t bring myself to write for this fandom anymore. 

So, there you have it. A long, unedited, overdue explanation that I’ve been struggling to get off my chest for far too long. Does it make sense? Maybe. I don’t know. I hope at least you can understand where I’m coming from. Even if you think I’m overreacting, I hope you can at least see my side of this. 

So, what does this mean for my in-project bnha works? 

For stories like LAH and AHDAI, which are in their final stages (both with only one chapter and an epilogue left to go), I plan on finishing those. I’m proud of both those projects and want to finish strong. When will they be finished? Good question. I don’t know. 

As for my more recent works--specifically Resident Ghost--I honestly have no idea. I’m trying to pull myself through a few chapters, trying to at least tie up the USJ arc, but I honestly don’t know at this point. And I feel bad. Because I have ideas, I have thoughts, I have a story to tell, but the motivation isn’t there anymore. And that’s the battle right now. 

I really want to be able to write and finish it. And I’m gonna try my damndest to do it. But I can’t promise speed. All I can promise is that I’m going to try my best. I don’t know what else to say. What else to do. 

If you’ve read this far, thank you. Thank you for supporting me and being a wonderful part of this community. I love you guys so much. You’re such an encouragement, and honestly, a big portion of what’s kept me going for this long. Maybe I’ll be able to keep writing like I did someday. Maybe I’ll work myself out of this eventually. 

Until then, I hope this explanation has been enough. Thank you for all your support. 

[dejaaalm]

Fearless

I remember when I turned 16 years old, my mom brought me to Subway to apply for my first job. Applying and doing the interview was easy, but my first day on the job was really scary. I had so many doubts and questions. Was I ready to work? To make sandwiches in a fast-paced work environment? To provide good customer service? To count money and give back change correctly? I had all the thoughts and worries a 16-year old would have on their first day of working.

I remember the supervisor teaching me how to make all of the different sandwiches - this meat goes in here and this sauce goes with this. I felt fine at first because he was there to guide me. I felt confident and rest assured knowing that he had my back if I messed up. Two weeks after training, I was on my own. I felt lonely and unsure of what to do. I did not want to screw anything up. I still remember the first time I closed the shop all by myself. I had forgotten the password to the safe, how to alarm the store, and how to refill the pop machine. It was a disaster and I remember feeling so overwhelmed and afraid that I would get fired.

This experience made a huge life-long impact on me. The constant battle of feeling so fearful often wrapped its wings around me. When I got my job at Hennepin County in 2016, the adrenaline of fear slowly crept up on me again. My hire group and I were in training for about 2 months and then we were left to be on our own to prove that we were worthy enough to make the cut and be a permanent team member. Previously, probation was 6 months long. Training lasted 2 months and then we have 2.5 months to process cases and have them be reviewed. I needed to pass both months with a cumulative average of 85% or higher to show that I understand policies and procedures.

I witnessed people from the previous hire groups get fired. There were a few people in our group that got fired or left to find a new job. I was mad and irritated with health care policies and processing procedures. I wept and wanted to quit every day. I felt so neglected by my senior colleagues and supervisors. I felt like God left me there to be tormented and slowly die on the inside because every ounce of confidence and pride that I had left within me had gone out the window. I began to question my own worth. Am I cut out for this job? Do I suck this bad? Do these numbers and percentages really depict my worth?

I was angry for a while. One day, I was praying to God about how hurt and mad I was about the probation process. During my prayer, God revealed something so prominent that I will never forget. In the quiet, I heard "But this was the job you desperately prayed for a few months ago. This was the breakthrough you cried for. Now that you have it, you want to quit?" Right at the moment, one of my favorite Bible verses pierced my heart: Jeremiah 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Right then, I stopped crying. I stopped bickering. I stopped venting. I began to praise him and thanked him for all that I have been given. I promised myself that I would work harder and shift my focus from my defeats to my victories. I would allow God to use me, mold me, and take me to where I need to be.

That prayer led me to so many incredible experiences and connections with people at my workplace. This is not to say that I completely stopped feeling fearful, overwhelmed, angry, and anxious because I still feel all of these emotions from time to time. I still feel defeated and have lots of questions sometimes. The difference is that I have a better coping mechanism and I've learned to really do a lot of self-care. Instead of re-evaluating my entire life and mishaps, I focus on realistic goals that I can reach. Instead of feeling sorry or sad for myself when I didn't do something well, I focus on how I can improve. Shifting my mindset and letting God take the lead has really allowed me to take on opportunities at work.

I got two promotions last fall! I got promoted to be a senior and to be a mentor. I train new workers to potentially become a worker like my colleagues and me. I create training materials and activities, facilitate group discussions, train in-person and virtual training courses, and so much more. For the most part, I love my job. COVID-19 has really stretched my co-workers and me in a lot different ways on a personal and mental health level, but we're hanging there and doing our best to provide meaningful training content.

We have two new hire groups. Our Aug 2019 group completed their formal training and case reviews already but we are still providing support to them. Our March 2020 group started at a really awkward time. It happened right after Gov. Tim Walz ordered everything, except for essential workers, to shut down. We've been training everything virtually. We work with a very complex health care system so it's not easy training this stuff virtually.

Before the state was ordered to shut down all non-essential workers and employment, we were gearing up our Aug 2019 group for the formal period--that is to dissect their case work and look for errors. This process is currently on hold. I could see on their faces how stressed out they were. In fact, one of them broke into tears and walked out of the classroom a few months back because she was so overwhelmed by the amount of test evaluations they were taking. I was not there but when I heard about it, I wanted to hug her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. All of what they're going through right now is to prepare them to gain the knowledge and experiences needed for their future role as it has done for me.

I think our relationship with God is a lot like that. The beginning stages always feel like we're on cloud nine and things are going smoothly. We happily pray every day, sing songs of praise, read scriptures, and intentionally engage in bible studies with friends. We attend conferences, retreats, and worship events to be filled. We want and search for that feeling of "God is in my life and he's guiding me onto the right path." It feels good to have a sense of direction or feel that God is holding us in the palm of his hands. But what about when we hit rock bottom or get close to it? Or, how about the days when we feel like we're worthless, our life has no meaning or value, or you feel like no one cares about your passion and goals. Even in my own personal walk with Christ, sometimes I feel like that long lost and lonely 16-year old making sandwiches at Subway. I need someone to hold my hand. I hate the process. I hate the struggle. I hate what I'm going through. I need to be reminded of my purpose and that God still has a plan for me.

Often times, I was afraid. I was constantly afraid of doing things on my own, or facing trials and challenges, or trying new things, or believing that God really does have a unique plan for me. I realized that my biggest fear is actually not really a fear. I have a trust deficit. I don't trust myself, my skills and abilities, and sometimes, I don't even trust those closest to me. They say, trust in God because he has a plan for you. How can I trust in God if I can't trust myself and others?

Being fearless is something I struggled with. I'm afraid of so many things but most importantly, I'm afraid of my journey with Christ. I'm afraid to let God take control of my life. I'm afraid of being obedient because I don't know what's ahead of me. If you're anything like me, I like to read spoilers before reading a book or watching a movie or tv show. It is so weird but I do that all the time. I don't want to feel like I wasted my time on something so good but it ended so terribly.

It's easy to look up scriptures and read it and say "Oh, that was really good. I needed that today." This doesn't have any meaning. It's a quick "hand-holding" moment that often times lasts for a few minutes and is forgotten. One scripture in particular that has really been my living testimony the past decade is Joshua 1:9 - "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

When I was younger, I always liked this verse. I had it memorized and even recited it out loud whenever I was afraid. But to believe and trust in it was a different process. To see the word of God come to life and manifest in my life was compelling. This bible verse is no longer just an encouraging or inspirational verse. It's alive! It's real. Believe it. Let scriptures come alive.

I don't think it was the struggle of the work or the amount of work that I was afraid of; I was afraid of not knowing what will happen. I was already afraid of the possible negative outcomes if my performance was poor during probation. I was afraid knowing that I was on my own. But God says that we are never alone for he is always with us wherever we go.

During this pandemic, it is completely normal to feel fearful. It is our natural response to a global disaster such as COVID-19. Our social media and news outlets continue to feed us fear. We fear of being disposed to illness, fear of being sick, fear of dying, and fear of running out of food and supplies. Our entire focus is on social distancing and staying safe. Fear has consumed many of us. I encourage you to relinquish your fears today, whatever it may be or what it is related to, and let God take the lead. He knows your strengths and weaknesses and what you are capable of doing more than you know. When you let go and let God, you find the courage and strength to overcome your fears.

It’s easy to fall through the cracks and let the enemy seep through with lies and chaos. Whatever you are going through, know that God is bigger. I often tell my kids to trust me because I know what’s best for them and I know that they don’t know, so in essence, God is the same way. We don’t know what the outcome will be weeks and months from now, but we do know that God is loving, forgiving, kind, and faithful. Call unto him and he will hear you. I am praying for you, dear friend. Be fearless!

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 32: Echinacea Purpurea

Chapters: 32/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader,  Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Stress With No Outlet, Real Trials Are Boring, Ain’t Like TV, Botanical Gardens Are The Best, Iceland Sounds Like A Blessedly Quiet Place To Someone Who Lives Where The Trees Scream Several Months Out Of The Year Summary:   Reader’s insecurities build up again, but at least this time there is a calm place to vent them.

You'd only eaten a light breakfast, but it sat like a brick in your belly. Saldis had reappeared in your room once morning came, to help you dress and make sure you were ready. You weren't ready.

You certainly looked ready. Your hair was fine and your dress was fine, simple, plain, and modest. Your insides however, were spinning in frantic circles. What if the jury decided not to convict the guy? What if they all hated you too? What if somehow it got all turned around, and it was Loki that got thrown in jail instead? How would you help your prince then? You would have to go to jail too in that case, to stay alive. Would they put you in the same cell? Next to each other? Or would they find the farthest distance you could be from one another, and force you to stay that far apart?

No, no, those kinds of things only happened in television dramas. You had to ignore everything you had seen in the media about court proceedings; they were only written like that so that they wouldn't bore the viewers. Your only purpose here, Loki's only purpose here, was to give testimony. No one was going to try to put Loki on trial here, nor you. No one was going to let that man hurt you either. He was going to be confined to a chair, with no weapons, and there would be a lot of security. Brunnhilde and Borgliot, and even Thor himself would be there. You would be safe, and Loki would be safe, and soon this would be over.

But in order for it to be over, It had to begin. It couldn't be over until you had gone through it.

And so it was that you arrived at the courthouse, to find yet more protesters on the steps. Again, you found yourself surrounded by a protective Asgardian wall, though, to your surprise, many of these protesters seemed to be there in support of you. They had nothing but scathing denouncements for Loki though, viciously scolding him for his many crimes against humanity in general, and you in specific.

You wanted to tell them that it wasn't like that, but you didn't think they would be able to hear over their own shouting.

Thankfully, they were not being allowed into the actual courthouse, and would not be able to disturb the proceedings, though they had managed to disturb you. You hadn't thought about the awful things Loki had done on Earth for a while now, not when he showed you such consideration. He was so gentle with you, so...almost normal. But he had killed people, potentially many people. However, due to the secretive nature of some of the organizations he had attacked, no one had anything but rough estimates for how many deaths he was responsible.

No. You were here for a human murderer, and you would see justice done in this case at least.

The bereft soldier, Adalheid, was already there. As the primary witness to the actual murder, she had come to the city a few weeks ago for the preliminary hearing, and now waited in what you were calling the Witness Room with a few of the victim's family members. You couldn't speak with her directly, but with Loki and Saldis there, everyone was able to communicate fairly effectively.

To your surprise, nobody seemed to blame you. You were the reason the killer had even come here in the first place, but everybody placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, where it belonged.

“You cannot take the blame.” The victim's sister told you. “All you did was leave home. This man, he came with violence in his heart.”

“I knew that he would die long before I did.” Adalheid said through Saldis. “But I thought we would have some decades yet. That I might make him happy for the time we did have.”

“You did, dear. He always wanted to go back to you.”

It could have been you. People sitting around a room, consoling themselves over your absence. But instead, it was some guy who was completely uninvolved. If people back home thought you had somehow betrayed them for Loki, then ultimately, you could understand why they would be angry. Maybe even why someone would try to kill you. Somehow, it was more offensive, more cruel, that a man was dead now, just because he liked to cuddle with an Asgardian soldier.

Well, you would get vengeance for him. With the power of law!

It was, thankfully, nowhere near as dramatic as any of the television or movie trials you had seen, although there was the somewhat surreal experience of having the undivided attention of a room full of people who could neither speak to, nor understand you. Oh, it was likely that a few people here knew English, but maybe not well enough that you could communicate with each other.

That was Saldis' true purpose here. Being fluent in both Icelandic and English, she translated back and forth, able to effectively express nuance that might have been lost otherwise.

They wanted to know fairly simple things from you. Did you know the defendant? Had you ever met before, in person or on social media? Had you ever heard of him? No to all.

Had you ever met the victim? Had you otherwise heard of him? Not exactly, but from the little love nest Loki had described to you, you had surmised that someone like him must exist. You personally had never seen the evidence.

What did you remember from the day you were attacked? If you never saw his face, how do you know this is the same man who attacked you? Because he had blatantly told you at the scene of the murder itself.

All questions you had heard before, safe, rehearsed. No unexpected game changers from out of left field, no trying to twist your words around. No blame.

They released you from the stand, your head swimming in unfulfilled anxiety. That had been so simple.  Your part was over now, and it almost felt as if you hadn't done anything at all.

You made your way back to the Witness Room, still edgy. That had been actually boring! The killer hadn't even looked at you! No one had said anything else to you, other than the questions you knew they were going to ask. They hadn't even gotten mad when you couldn't bring yourself to swear on a bible. Thor had actually brought you Stormbreaker to place your hand on. He'd been asked politely but firmly to put it away and not bring it out again while he was within the city, but nobody had said anything to you about it.

That stunt would have gotten you killed socially and in the media back in the States. But things were different now. You took meals with gods, and slept in hotels with them. You held their hands and scolded them. You weren't the same now as you had been then.

Saldis tried to convince you to sit down and wait, but you were just too wound up to rest. You paced round and round, jumping as the door suddenly opened and Loki swept regally into the room.

“My dear.” He said. “You look troubled.”

You stopped pacing and hurried over to him. “I'm just...I don't know...”

“I think I do. Lucky for us, our presence is no longer necessary. We can go wherever we like now. Would you like food?​”

“You said there was a botanical garden? Can we go there?”

“Certainly. We can spend the rest of the day there, if you wish.” He promised, taking your hand.

“Your Highness, will you require my services any further?” Saldis asked.

“Not for today, I think. You may go where you wish, but do not go alone. Enjoy your day.”

Saldis bowed. “Thank you, your Highness.”

Loki led you back to the steps of the courthouse, where the protesters still gathered. They began shouting again, their fervor rising as they noticed Loki still holding your hand. Several people started screaming about love conquering all, but others jumped forward trying to separate you, to 'liberate' you.

“Oh, definitely not.” Loki muttered. He swept you into his arms as security guards rushed to restore peace. With a wild laugh, he sprang from the stairs, landing as gracefully as a dancer. Cries of awe and fear rose up behind you, receding as Loki ran down the street, carrying you off like a princess.

“You crazy bastard!” You gasped. Loki set you on your feet, and you leaned against the nearest wall until your heart stopped thudding.

“Those are very inelegant words with which to describe your prince and savior.” He said with a fake scowl. “Never fear; I can provide better ones. Gallant, for starters. Noble, courageous, clever, devastatingly handsome. Take your pick.”

“What kind of stunt was that?” You exclaimed. “What if you'd dropped me?”

“Oh _____,” Loki said, trailing a finger down your cheek. “When would I ever do that?”

You needed to lean against the wall for a little longer.

People started to notice you, or rather, Loki. These seemed like the regular residents of the town, and they did not try to approach, but you saw an awful lot of cellphones out and pointed in your direction.

The stroll through town would have been quite pleasant, aside from that. The place was very clean, and there were many cute buildings with bright paint.

“Loki, I think there are people following us.” You whispered, clinging to his offered arm.

“I know.” He whispered back. “As long as they keep a respectful distance, let them take their pictures and videos. What will it show to the world, save you and I sharing a quiet day in peaceful accord?”

“Is that your version of PR?”

“Given that the majority of Earth's footage of me is rather unflattering, yes. Let your internet flood with videos of myself chivalrously escorting you around the city. I don't mind it in the least.”

Nobody followed you into the gardens themselves, but Loki's presence did cause a stir there, gathering stares and whispers as he charmed the receptionist into appointing another worker as a personal guide and security guard. The poor fellow tried his best to clear the area, chattering about the history of the place, which Loki helpfully translated for you.

According to your new guide, the gardens were initially built in the early twentieth century, by a group of ladies who wanted to bring a bit of beauty to their far northern city. Over time, it grew and grew, encompassing some of the oldest buildings in the city, and containing, not only many examples of the hardy native flora, but also foreign species, carefully tended to keep them healthy.

There were plants here of types you hadn't seen in months. How could it have been so long since you had seen roses? Sunflowers? All these blossoms, so common to the landscaping of home, yards and gardens. You spotted a bed of purple coneflowers and found yourself fighting to hold back tears. These grew wild along the roadsides, little pops of pale purple swaying in the sparse breeze of late summer. When you were younger, walking home from school, you used to gather bouquets of them, leaving them in a vase for your Nanna Beth to find when she got home. They had been decimated by the Event, along with everything else.

Endless cornfields, and endless sky, and endless stars, and endless roads. Hedgerows and wildflowers on the roadsides, remnants of forest and prairie. The wide, flat expanse of living things, with just the occasional town tucked here and there, hidden among the life-giving corn.

It was still wrong somehow. Something was missing. Something was too still.

No butterflies. Almost no insects at all, just some small flies, hovering around the blossoms. For the first time you realized how quiet Iceland was. All the chirping, buzzing, and song you had grown up with were silent here. No crickets, no hornets, no cicadas, frogs, or grasshoppers.

You felt Loki's hands cup your shoulders. He had been speaking to you, but you had been too enthralled in the world the coneflowers had taken you back to. You turned and buried your face in his chest, and though he stiffened, he didn't seem entirely unprepared for a sudden reaction from you, and merely crossed his arms loosely around you.

Home was gone. Every time you thought you had come to accept that, something happened to awaken that ache inside again. Something was there to remind you of how far away and lost you were, how much of a stranger. But Loki was too, and you could turn to him. You both lived here now, but had come from far away places, very different from your new home.

How did he cope? For him, everything would seem wrong. The animals, the people, the plants, even the stars.

“Let it out my dear, I know you've been stressed. You have spent the whole day nearly vibrating from it. It is over now. You are unlikely to be called back to witness again, and no matter the outcome, he is going away. He will be subject to justice, the only question left is the severity of his punishment.”

“I know, I know! It's okay, I know. I was just...Those flowers over there, they used to grow...”

You found a bench to sit on, and told him everything; how isolated you felt, how out of place, how lost.

“But it's got to be so much worse for you.” You said. “How do you deal with it?”

“Well...I may not actually have it all that much worse than you.” Loki mused. “After all, my people are here. I am surrounded by them, by my culture. I hear my own language every day, see and wear familiar clothing, hear songs that I know.

You may be on the same world, but Earth is so large that the people in another area can be so different as to be nearly unfathomable. Yes, they're also human, but can you speak with them? Do you live in the same way? The rules may be different for them, and they have no way to tell you that. There is no one to protect and succor you. That's true isolation; to be alone, even among your own species.

Yet, you don't even have that. You no longer live among other humans. Everyone you see in a day is technically an extraterrestrial. Some are Aesir. None are humans, no matter how similar we might look, and something in your instincts knows that. Only a handful of people there know your language, and all sound foreign to you. The clothing is different from yours, some of the food as well. The culture is different, the architecture, the stories and holidays.

There are many things that are unfamiliar to me here. The fact that I cannot reach the edge of this world. Time zones. Seismic activity. But I am facing all of these things with my brother at my side, and my people behind me. So I really couldn't say which of us has it worse.

“I do feel lost sometimes. The sky here does not act right. The animals and plants of this world are terribly strange. Do you know how insane the concept of a whale is to someone whose world had no ocean? I do feel like I do not belong here, and I feel the isolation as well, on a deeper level than I can explain right now. At least one very powerful nation absolutely despises me, and they are not without reason. They have the ability to influence others, and are continually attempting to do so, even here.”

He leaned back against the bench with a deep sigh. Your guide continued trying to shoo away people with their phones, and you couldn't help but wonder how flooded with pictures and videos of the two of you the internet was about to be.

“I honestly wouldn't fret about it all that much, if not for the trouble my enemies try to bring upon those who are not my enemies. My brother. My people. You. There are already casualties, and I wasn't even involved! This is another reason I do not try to stop these people from filming me. The more normalized I become, the less controversial a figure. The more people see me as a person, the fewer people will attempt to do what this man has done.”

“And I can ultimately help with that.” You concluded. “Just by existing. As long as I look happy and healthy, and stay by your side, the more you look like a friend.”

“Indubitably. That wasn't the initial plan. There was no plan. But now...well, if there is a plan, it's a very loose one, it's just that I keep finding new and valuable facets to your company. So, If you find yourself feeling lost, feel free to come to me. We can be lost together.”

You sighed as well, this time in fondness. “You're very good at grand proclamations, you know? Is that part of being raised as a political figure?”

“Would you prefer me to be more succinct?”

“I'd rather you just say what you feel.”

“Oh my dear,” Loki said with a grin. “I hope then, that you are prepared to hear many, many words.”

[isa-ly]

“I HATE MY LIFE, LMAO”

TW: mental illness, therapy, self-hatred, self-deprecation

Let's start this one off with a text I received a few months ago from a friend, who I hadn't seen or spoken to in a while:

For anyone who isn't fluent in German, it reads as follows: "I'm hip and have a Twitter too now, as you probably noticed. Your own Twitter doesn't sound like you're too doing well. Can I help in any way?"

At first, I was like: "Huh? What does she mean?"

But, well...

Alright, I see her point.

And that's what I'm here to talk about today: Tweeting and joking your sorrows away (and why it's so hard to stop doing it). Before we get into it, however, I want to drop one last screenshot, because it just fits this current situation oh too well, and the irony made me giggle:

Okay, enough social media plugging, let's get back to business.

As you can see, I am quite active when it comes to tweeting about my struggles with mental illness. Which, in this day and age, really isn't a rarity. You just need to take one look at Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, TikTok or any dank meme, to see that joking, down-playing and iRoniCalLy tAkiNg tHe piSs out of personal problems and issues, has become quite the trend for millennials in general. Once again, I'm not the only one guilty of doing that.

Had you asked me a year ago whether or not I thought that constantly ridiculing very serious and traumatic incidents in my life was maybe a bit worrisome, I would have probably gotten very defensive and told you that "it's called coping, okay?” Because hey, making jokes and laughing about the bad things in your life gives them less power over you and helps distract from the pain. And that's good, right? That's what you're supposed to do. Right?

Well.

Dealing with your own issues, whether that's big or small ones, is a very personal process that, quite frankly, no one really gets to have a say in except for you. And yeah, sure, as we all learned by watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, ridiculing and laughing about something that really scares you, loosens the hold said fear has on you and makes it easier to deal with. However, there is a very big difference between the boggards of life (if you don’t get that reference, you clearly weren’t around when J.K. Rowling wasn’t problematic and transphobic yet) and medical mental health issues and disorders.

I am no doctor, I am aware of that, but even I know that having an ironic laugh about a shitty day is something very different to basically verbally abusing yourself and trying to make your own depression or anxiety relatable to ... well, to whom, actually? Random people on the internet? That are never going to really care or react to your self-deprecating jokes? That doesn’t seem like it’ll do much now, does it.

And that’s kind of the whole point, if you’re really honest with yourself. Social media has made it oh too easy to simply shout those invasive, painful and scary thoughts and feelings out into a void before they eat you alive. The thing about a void is, though: You're still alone in it. It doesn't answer you back. It's empty. And it will make you feel that exact emptiness inside you, too. It poses no comfort, it doesn't offer advice, it doesn't give you a hug, a shoulder to cry on or anything, really. It may swallow your word vomit whenever it bubbles out of you, but it will still leave you feeling drained and hollow because there's nothing you get from it in return.

Twitter, Instagram and every other easy-to-access-and-rant-on social media platform lets you dump your initial hurt all over it, but it doesn't lessen the pain. And neither do the self-deprecating jokes and dank depression memes.

I’ll say this once again, for the people in the back (me, I’m talking about myself here, I am the people in the back): Being mentally ill isn't a quirky personality trait, and making a lifestyle and constant comedy show out of is never, ever going to solve your problems and make you feel any better. You'll still be miserable if you don't actually work on solving your issues because you're too busy letting them define you.

Depression is not an aesthetic. Anxiety is not a competition. Panic attacks aren't funny memes.

I'm not saying that you can't and shouldn't joke or laugh about your own problems. Humor can be a very cathartic thing, I'm the living example of it. But staying put in your depression, anxiety or whatever issues you're dealing with, and trying to make a comedy skit out of it every time someone asks you how you are, is only going to make you more comfortable and validated in your own misery. And there are way better places to be comfortable in than that. Trust me.

You are not your mental illness. You are not your disorder. Those things will never define who you are. They're a part of you, yes, but they aren't you. You will always be the one that calls the shots and you always, always have choice and hope on your side. Even when it feels like you are alone and being swallowed whole by the darkness, it is never too early or late to get help. It might feel insincere, it might feel terrifying and impossible. But it never is. That's exactly what your disorders and problems want you to think. But they are wrong.

I had to accept that too. I had to accept that, once again, I wasn't as special of a snowflake as my mental illness painted me to be. By doing that, it simply did what any mental illness does best: it isolated me even more. With every joke, every #relatable tweet, every "lol" behind yet another truly worrisome sentence, I sunk back further and further into the cocoon of loneliness. And, plot twist, you can't finger-gun your way out of depression. Sorry, babes.

So, every time you’re about to chuck out another "I wanna die lmao" in a casual conversation with friends or yet another self-deprecating tweet, just take a second to ask yourself: Is this really a way of coping? Is it really making me feel better? Or is it actually a subconscious, desperate attempt of getting someone, anyone, to see that I'm slowly breaking on the inside?

Again, I don't want this to come across as a self-help guide on how to battle your mental illness. Not at all. If anything, the reason I phrase this blog and all my entries the way I do, is because it's what I need to keep telling myself, every time I revert back to old habits. It's a reminder. For me and, in case you want it to be, for you too. I'm not here to lecture anyone. Well, maybe myself, a little. But everyone makes their own choices and I'm no one's guide or saviour, nor do I want to be. However, I made a promise to myself to really commit to this blog thing, so here I am. I'm my own harshest critic, always have been, so if anything, this is a call out post for my own self-deprecating habits.

Receiving that message from my friend made me realize that even though I would have never admitted it to myself at the time, all those tweets and casually dropped “I’m gonna kms haha lol”s were nothing but very badly disguised cries for help. I was just too much of a coward to admit that to myself. Okay, maybe coward is a bit of a harsh word. I don’t want to diminish my fear or vulnerability just because I know the reason for it now. It’s just that looking back at my own denial, and still sometimes catching myself in moments where I slip back into this behaviour, makes me want to grab myself by the shoulders and shake me until I snap out of it.

Which is why I’m just going to do this through my blog now – for past, present and also future me: Get it together. Stop yourself in your own tracks when you’re about to word-vomit up another cryptic tweet or self-deprecating joke. Instead, talk to a friend. Type up a text. Call someone. Schedule a therapy session. It's always gonna help, way better than forcing out a laugh about something that is in no way a laughable matter. Reaching out is not going to fix everything immediately, but in the long run it will. And that's what we're in for, after all.

You can ask any of my friends and they will tell you that whenever they express feelings of insecurity about sharing their worries to me, I will be quick to stop them in the middle of their sentence to tell them that they can, and always should, talk to me. About any- and everything, be that day or night. It is something that I have been preaching for God knows how long, and I genuinely mean it, too. So, I’ve kind of just been a huge hypocrite by never listening to my own advice. And I knew that. Deep down, I always knew that I was ignoring the exact thing I kept telling the people I loved to do too. And what can I say, I hate being a hypocrite.

I’m not saying that any of this is easy. Hell, it can be the hardest God damn thing ever, especially when you’re as emotionally repressed and inept as I am most of the time. And yes, venting and shit-posting about how much you’ve been crying all day or how much you “hate your own life” might work as a quick fix to let off some of that frustration steam. But it’s never going to actually repair the underlying issues that cause you to feel this shitty in the first place. The only thing that’s gonna do that, is actually talking to people. Whether that is family, friends or a therapist, doesn’t matter. Because other than an Instagram story that disappears after 24 hours, or a tweet that has a 280-character limit, real life people who care about you will actually take the time to listen, say something in return, and provide the comfort and open ear no social media platform or meme ever could. You know that. And I know that too. 

So, I want to try and quit lmao-ing my way through life and instead do what I actually, secretly know I am trying to do anyway with all those self-deprecating attempts at morbid comedy: ask for help. No lol’s needed.

[resinatingbeauty]

News & New Stuff October 8th 2020 Update

SALE on Mercari and in the Etsy shop - Spend $30 in the shop for 40% off your order! Free shipping available for US customers and guaranteed free international shipping everywhere else when spending $35 + USD !

Introducing affordable hand crafted & charged 'Crystal Essentials' jewelry sets featuring iconic therapeutic natural crystals crafted into a beautiful beaded bracelet, necklace, and earring set with raw Selenite crystal to charge! Includes detailed information about the featured crystal / gemstone and Selenite / charging. Each set may be Personslized further by choosing your beading color scheme and comes with keepsake box and bags! These sets are priced just at $20-$35.00 (depending on stone) USD to make them affordable for everyone getting into crystal therapy, reiki, or those who just enjoy the natural beauty and colorations of these crystals!

THANK YOU to all my Mercari buyers for helping me reach 100 5 Star reviews this month! There are some special deals for Mercari users on my page that aren't listed anywhere else to celebrate, including 5 piece Crystal Beauty Bundle Boxes which feature natural crystals I have hand picked just for you, at least one of my own color changing / thermogenic creations, Selenite, Black Cleansing Salt, and a stretchy crystal stack Bracelet!

Updated the Etsy shop with new organization, some new listings and featured items including the aforementioned Crystal Essential sets of Malachite and Obsidian. Removed older listings that are still on Mercari for a discounted price.

I am ALWAYS accepting custom orders- the 'place custom order' button should now appear on my Etsy shop in the upper right hand corner of shop home. This was always meant to be, but most of my editing is done on the mobile app which is inconsistent with the website. Sorry for that!

I plan on collaborating with funky amazing artist Meg and doing a swap in the near future. Keep an eye out for photos - I can't wait to see what she designs for me!

It has been a hell of a month, let me tell you (not that anyone reads this, which makes it a great place to vent). Finances have been tight- sales have just BARELY covered my expenses (Etsy shop still in the hole by a literal dollar). Fortunately, I have been able to keep my day job during this pandemic as an essential worker, but I lost my side hustle and hours were cut there so even that hasn't been any help.

I started Resinating Beauty / Blursed Baubles by Samantha in Pursuit of a dream. I pursued that dream at a bad time.

Thankfully, I didn't take out any small business loans or borrow money to manifest my dream. Everything came out of pocket from money I had saved and the small inheritance my grandmother left me when I was 14, or what was left of it after I moved out of my parent's home and purchased a new car, which I am glad I'm not stuck with my dying 20 year old Cavalier and don't have to currently worry about a car payment or this car deciding it has had enough of me.

That money is gone now, and as I continue down this path, I may have gone full force when I should have held back and waited to see what the ultimate impact would be of this global phenomenon would be- between the pandemic and other events that appear to be harbingers of the apocalypse.

Every bit I make goes right back into maintaining my presence and keeping up with my creations when they aren't paying overdue bills, overdraft fees, and the rent.

What does this depressing rant mean for, if you so happen to have taken the time to read this? For one, thanks for that. At least keeping up with social media has somewhat paid off, though the ads brought likes, they never brought much revenue. That's what will ultimately kill this dream of mine, or at least bring everything to a full stop until I can afford to restock and promote. This means a few possibilities in the next few months:

Mercari only sales. Though Mercari has also become more of a pain in the ass and lackluster in the last few months, adding their payment processing fee in addition to their 10% listing fee and raising the cost of their prepaid labels.

I had expected the cost of labels to go up just to match the increase in postage cost, but the payment processing fee snuck right in there amidst everything. It has become very hard as a seller to make ANYTHING from a sale and price your items in a way that people will even stop and look at your listing because you're going to lose at least $5 off the top, more if you don't use your own label service and, God forbid, take your packages to a pack n ship store.

Higher Pricing Than Usual and No More Gratuitous Free Shipping

In exchange, I have had to list items at much higher prices than I would expect anyone to pay just to list them and promote them down to the price I expect, only to sell them at cost if not lower. I'm lucky to make a profit off any of my listings, but I do recognize that the majority of my sales come from Mercari. I've had the Etsy shop for almost as long and have only made a grand total of 5 (or so) sales, only two of which were international, which is really the entire point of running the Etsy shop. If this trend continues, I'll be forced to cut my losses and turn down international sales for the foreseeable future.

Free shipping will continue for now as I have been able to use a commercial shipping label service that provides discounted shipping labels, but if listing price dips below the 10-15% profit margin I need to continue, I will withdraw the offer of free shipping.

Advertising is word of mouth only- if you love it, like it! Share it! Buy it!

If you have purchased any of my handmade items or have seen them advertised when I could afford to do so and thought they were amazing, please help! The casualties of this pandemic are not just human- millions of small businesses, start ups, and solo ventures like myself are struggling just as much as you are (if not more) to keep a roof over their heads, to pay their bills, and to continue providing quality products and services from the USA, from my hands to yours. Corporations from China and other international conglomerates have infiltrated sites like Etsy and Mercari, selling their products as if they were handmade, unique, and just as special as someone who actually sat down and took the time to craft it over days and weeks- pouring their heart and souls into it like I know I do and God knows they mass produce these items, using these platform as just another way to promote their products. There is literally nothing we can do to stop it other than refuse to purchase from them and to invest our money in true homegrown small businesses.

As prices get higher here in the US, I can't blame people for immediately gravitating toward the lowest priced seller that is selling a copy cat item of another at half the cost, or one similar to it, but, damn, does it feel like a knife in the back to every entrepreneur or small business owner watching our dreams crumble at the feet of Chinese mega corps and pandemic/election propaganda.

Custom order cessation on all platforms. If I no longer have the extra materials, I cannot make custom orders. You may find custom or made to order listings have a much more abbreviated menu of options and variations due to cost and those who place custom orders and fail to follow up. Please only make custom order requests when you are ready to purchase them and allow me adequate time to create your item(s), finalize, and ship them to you.

With all that being said, I don't expect any of this to happen until next year. I continue to pull through, I'm still crafting and designing, making social media advertisements whenever I can, and going to sleep at night just praying with hope in my heart that one day it has got to get better. We have nowhere to go now but up. I truly make myself believe this and stay positive with my thoughts.

Some changes have taken effect already on Mercari and Etsy as you have seen my pricing rise and the free shipping go away and I'm truly sorry for that. I'm sorry I have to decline your offer as well if I just can't rationalize it in my head. I can promise you, however, that you will continue to receive quality, handmade, one of a kind creations with extra love and care with customer service to match. I appreciate everyone who has made a purchase as you have supported this dream of mine and those repeat customers who have become more than just buyers to me, you are truly amazing. Thank you again for getting me to 100 5 Star reviews on Mercari!

-Xo Samantha

[diaryofachurchboy]

‘Diarying’ continued

Diary of a Church Boy (S01 E03)

We explored the practice of taking sermon notes in church - which I observed we now mostly do on our mobile devices and I presented as a social habit which can have profound and extended impact in the lives we lead.

I still document my thoughts and the ways I feel about them. In fact, in the light of recent sexual violence incidents which has made media rounds in my country Nigeria, I’m going to end this episode with my thoughts on rape - especially since it happened recently in a church.

Owwteebee here. This is ‘Diary of a Church Boy’ and I keep my promise from last episode by sharing why I still document my thought and the ways I feel about them.

Let’s do this.

Diarying’ can become a keystone habit - a small but significant routine that can transform other aspects of our lives. I found that those skills I acquired from the practice of taking notes in church are portable; I now use them - somewhat unconsciously, when documenting other areas of my life and here’s some of the benefits I find in this.

I find it to be uplifting.

I was driving back from a production meeting I had with clients in a town about an hour and a half from the one I resided in, when suddenly I realized a truck was heading straight at me. 

A few moments later I was forklifted out of a nearby ditch where I’d been hit into. The car was wrecked beyond repair but I came out unscathed. Still in a state of shock, I lifted my eyes, saw a kite flying up in the sky and got teary-eyed, realizing I’d just been given a second chance at life.

‘I’m a kite that flew against the wind of adversity,’ I later wrote in my diary. ‘I’m that bird that missed the fowler’s snare. Yes I was made to overcome and fly against the wind of adversity.’ Writing about experiences like this inspire hope. They’re very uplifting and you should empower yourself with this. 

I find it to be cathartic. 

I write down my concerns; things that bother, frustrate and drain me. There’s a relief that the very act of harnessing those thoughts and transferring them in words to a medium brings. It feels to me like ‘casting my burdens’ on a piece of paper or now on my mobile note taking app. In fact, I literally take those notes to the place of prayer during quiet time. And what’s more I can be brutally honestly when venting this way without the limitations of people’s opinions and judgements. Venting on my diary is very cathartic and you should try it sometime. With note taking apps now that accept voice notes, this make it even easier.

I find this liberating.

As I alluded to in the first episode - which you should check out by the way, there are certain subjects that were awkward to express in church circles. What’s sad is that we can transfer this to our everyday lives and never express our opinions and reservations on certain issues. For instance, I worked and served for a few years in my church as ‘pastor’ for discipleship and media production but I never liked to be referred to by that title. 

Don’t get it twisted though, there’s nothing wrong with it; I just didn’t see myself as a pastor - that’s not what I wanted to be known for. And every time I expressed that? I got the look. “Once a pastor, always a pastor,” I’d be told. “I’m not a pastor,” I’d likely reply. No Sir. I didn’t think that being a pastor was the only dignified way to serve God and humanity. I still don’t. I am inspired differently and I have other passions.

“By me shall all the families of the earth be blessed - and by me they shall bless themselves,” another version of that scripture explains. I’m Out-to-Bless! and I don’t have to do that on a church podium. So my diary became my platform for emancipation. “I work in the pastorate now but I’m not a pastor,” I would write to remind myself. There are no limitations when ‘diarying’ and this, if you ask me, is quite therapeutic. You should try it too.

Here’s the last one I’ll share and I’ll make it brief:

I find that’s it’s the responsible thing to do. 

You see, confronting my conflicts and struggles forces me not to play the ostrich. Reflecting on things I’ve documented; questioning them objectively, acknowledging accompanying trauma and labeling the emotions that come with them - especially in a systematic way, opens me up to insights and perspectives that I otherwise would not have accessed. In the end, I become more self aware and empowered.

One of my favorite books of the Christian Bible is the Psalms and that’s because the chapters read, to me, like a diary entries. David would express his joys, vent his frustrations and even admit his faults and shortcomings unrestrained. If these records could make it to the canon that eventually became the Christian Bible, tell me why I shouldn’t do same with my ‘diarying’. In fact, here’s a part of a recent entry that was incited by a rape incidence that occurred in the premises of a local church in Nigeria.

Rape is a blatant disregard of not just the right but the dignity of another human for self gratification. Unfortunately, these incidents of sexual violence happen everyday to people we know and those we don’t- both in and outside the church. 

People who assault and harass others sexually are not normal and their actions should not be normalized. In fact, I am of the opinion that it is not enough - especially as men, to be non-rapist; we should all be anti-rape. 

We should promote environments that allow women to live without the fear of sexual violence, environments that allow victims to share their experiences without guilt, shame, the fear of not being believed and - most importantly, the fear of not getting justice and the church should be at the fore-front on this.

I’ll take a break here. See you when we return.

...

This podcast is a digital audio diary of my reflections on church-life and faith. If you enjoy and are empowered by this body of work, please subscribe, share with friends and loved ones and consider supporting on Patreon. See episode notes for more details and information.

So yeah, ‘diarying’ has been my thing and still is. It’s a keystone habit that I find to be uplifting, cathartic, liberating and the responsible thing to do. I encourage you to empower yourself with this practice. 

Remember to subscribe to this diary on your preferable podcast app. Follow @diaryofachurchboy on social, and if you enjoyed this episode please share it with someone and consider supporting on Patreon.

See you on the next one! 

[sweetnestor]

You Look Happier | Chapter 9

university au, teamiplier + jack

platonic/romance/angst/(smut at one point but it’ll only be on ao3)

previous chapter

“Run that by me again?”  I asked, shocked.

Mark was a little taken aback at my outburst. “I want you to be involved in this project. You’ll get to work with all of us. You’ve been… an inspiration to me. I understand it sounds a little-”

“Invasive,” I finished, folding my arms. “You’re basing your alter ego, one that your fans worship, off of my personal struggles, and-”

“That’s why I’m giving you control over that particular thing. You can’t expect me to call off this project, there’s already so much that’s gone into it!” Mark argued. “And you’re the one who inspired a majority of what this ego is! Don’t you remember you telling me your ideas a couple years ago?”

“I was drunk and destructive!” I shot back. I paced his living room, fuming. “That was me venting, that wasn’t for your creative process! God, I should have known! This was why you started talking to me again, right? You just wanted something from me!”

“Now hold on-”

“You were just manipulating me! And I fell for it, como una pinche pendeja! No lo puedo creer!”

“Listen to me!” Mark snapped, his voice booming. Then he brought it down a notch. “If you don’t want to be involved in this project, then fine. It’s going to happen with or without you. But I have never tried to manipulate you into anything! I promise you, I would never do something like that.”

I didn’t say anything to that. My defensiveness only rose higher. He had to be lying. He brought me back into his life just as he started working on this project that included the alter ego that was the representation of my dark and intrusive thoughts. That had to be the only reason why he contacted me.

“Alright, you know what?” Mark spitefully said. “Wait until the videos come out. You’ll see what manipulation is. You’ll see the difference between me and whatever you’re feeling right now.”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my purse and left his house. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was to fall for any of this. He just needed me for something, and then he would leave again. He didn’t want to be friends again. Why would he want to be friends with me?

I came home to an empty apartment. I didn’t have any classes to keep me busy today, and the only two people I talked to had their own things to worry about. I was alone again.

But then I thought about Ethan. He was apart of Mark’s big project. Was he apart of the “Manipulating Bella” plan? Did Mark tell Ethan to pretend to date me to let my guard down, just so Mark could sneak in and take more away from me? Was that all I was to them?

My phone was pulled out of my pocket, and I was typing a frantic message to Ethan as I paced around the living room. “I know what you’re doing and I’m not stupid enough to fall for it! Mark already told me what was going on and what he wanted from me! Never talk to me-”

Suddenly, I stopped typing. Was I going to dump him so abruptly? Over a text?

That’s what he deserves, said the bad voice in my head.

Does he, though? Did this really make any sense?

Quickly, I backspaced and wrote out a different message. “Do you actually like me?” Too desperate, try again. “What do you think of me?” That’s better. I hesitated for a moment before sending it.

The time it took for him to reply went agonizingly slow. I continued pacing and rubbing my hands together, and then nearly screamed when someone knocked on the door. I had a fleeting moment of sheer panic, but then the lightbulb going off in my head made me relax again. But then I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. Ethan was supposed to come over today. That meant we were going to have quite the conversation.

“Did you get my text?” was the first thing I said to him. My mind was starting to spiral, and I had to come back to earth before I impulsively dumped him.

“Um, yeah. I’m glad I came over, actually,” he replied, entering the vicinity. “Is everything okay?”

There were so many things I was feeling, I couldn't put any of them into a coherent sentence. I couldn't lie and say I was fine, either. Ethan had already seen my text, and I couldn't keep the worried look off my face. I walked towards the living room with him following after me.

“So what do you think of me?” I asked, but then I had to explain. “I know I probably sound insane and I'm sorry, but I'm… I feel like…” I paused, not know which emotion to express. “I feel like I'm freaking out over nothing?”

He looked worried, but also confused. “Um… did something happen?”

This wasn't helping. “Do you still like me?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said without hesitating.

“Why?”

He shrugged lightly, like this was no big deal to him. “‘Cause… you get me. And you're funny and talented and… you're patient with me. I don't know, it's not coming out the way it is in my head. There's a lot of reasons.”

I nodded. I knew he had trouble getting his words together. I knew that feeling all too well. “Can you… tell me I'm being paranoid?”

“You're being paranoid,” he said like it was a question. “Bella, what happened?”

Now I was hesitating. A huge ball of emotion and tears were stuck in my throat. I needed someone to tell me that I was being stupid, that the anxiety was playing with me again, because I couldn’t trust myself to calm down alone. Ethan was here, and he wasn’t scared off yet.

I sighed, and then I explained what went down with Mark earlier in the day. Somehow, I didn’t cry, but my speech was shaky and frantic. “...a-and you work for him, and I had a moment of…”

“You think I would manipulate you?” he finished in disbelief. “I’d never do that, I promise.”

“Promise is a big word that adds pressure,” I said.

“Well… I would never do anything to hurt you. You gotta trust me.”

Trust? Don’t know her. Don’t like her… but I have to play nice with her. No more shutting people out. I talked about this so I could feel better and come to some sort of solution.

I nodded lightly. “I’m trying.”

“Okay. Trying counts as progress.” He paused. “I… I know things like this aren’t easy for you… but I’m glad you were able to tell me.”

What is it about Ethan that makes these things less difficult? A year ago, I could barely tell Mark what I wanted for dinner, much less be intimate with him. Maybe things were better off this way.

~

A few days later, it was Jack’s birthday. I had gotten him a bundle of Overwatch merch (like he needed more) and then… we went to Mark’s house for a little celebration. The only reason why I went was because it’s my best friend, and I reminded myself of the time he ditched his other friends at Thanksgiving because of me. Also, Ethan was there. So were Tyler, Kathryn, and Amy. To them, I was only there because of Jack, but it wasn’t as awkward as I had anticipated.

“Did you have a good birthday?” I asked once we were back in the car.

“Yeah,” Jack replied, still high from the euphoria and the drinks he had. “It was fun. Were you okay? I noticed you didn’t drink at all.”

“I had to drive,” I said. “And I did this for you. Plus, I didn’t have a panic attack, so that’s cool.”

“It was a great day!” Jack cheered, throwing his arms up. “Let’s get ice cream!”

I giggled. “Whatever the birthday boy wants.”

“In that case, let’s also get a yacht and twelve puppies!”

After going to a Sonic drive-thru, I took us home. It was late in the evening, and I was mildly exhausted from all the interaction. But Jack was still a bundle of energy, like always. When we sat on the couch, I took out my phone and posted an old selfie of us on Instagram with a heartfelt happy birthday caption. I hadn't checked my social media all day, but I could guess that I was probably getting yelled at for not publicly wishing my friend a happy birthday.

“So how was it pretending not to be Ethan's girlfriend?” asked that particular friend.

“Easy, because you were there,” I replied, still scrolling on my phone.

“Why didn't you guys tell everyone? It seemed like the perfect time,” Jack mused. “They were all there.”

I chuckled. “I'm not stealing your thunder on your birthday.”

“I wouldn't have minded! Now you guys have to pretend to not be dating when we're all together for a weekend,” he said.

That was true. Another thing that happened at the party was Mark, Tyler, and Ethan's idea for all of us to take a trip to the Grand Canyon at the end of the month. Don't get me wrong, I was still salty at Mark about the Darkiplier thing. If it wasn't for Ethan and Jack, then I would have turned down the trip. A weekend with the friends Mark abandoned me for? It sounded like a nightmare. But I was trying to be a bigger, stronger person.

“Hmm, do you think Mark would be mad if I told him about me and Ethan?” I wondered, leaning back so I was slouching.

Jack thought about it. “Well, he was mad when he found out you and I were friends, and we didn’t even try to hide that.”

I chewed my lip nervously. “Oh man. And you guys aren’t as close anymore because of that?”

“I wouldn’t say that. He threw a party for me, and we had a good time. Sometimes friends grow distant for a little bit. And besides… he hurt you pretty bad. But time goes on.”

After all this time, I still didn’t understand how Jack picked me over Mark, but I didn’t feel like getting into that. My mind was too clogged up for any more overthinking. I was already less sad about life and being alive, I didn’t want to soil it with my own intrusive thoughts.

We continued on with the week, already accustomed to our YTU schedules. Awake and out of the house by seven. Drop off Jack. Go back home and sleep. Breakfast is optional. Seeing the boyfriend is also optional. Classes from twelve to four. Dinner by six. Spend the rest of the day with either the bestie or the boyfriend.

One day, though, I got out of my psych lecture when Ethan had some downtime. We met up on the courtyard and walked around the area, keeping a decent distance apart. There were lurkers and gossip channels all over. Not that anyone paid any attention to us, I was just mildly paranoid. Plus, on some gossip channels, I was still painted as ‘Markiplier’s Crazy Ex-Girlfriend,’ so that’s fun.

“Have you made any new friends?” I asked as we strolled by the fountain.

“Yeah, I talk to some people in my classes,” he replied. “Well, in one class. I have Mark and Amy in video production and bio.”

“Cool,” I said, even though I was surprised to hear about those two. Didn’t know Mark decided to come back, and to bring his non-YouTuber girlfriend with him. “My biology class requires group work, and I’m trying really hard not to drop the course.”

“Aw, no. Do you talk to anyone at all?”

I shook my head. “I could literally be failing the class and I won’t ask for help or anything.”

“Whoa… wait. So, being in a room full of people is really stressful for you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So then… why did you enroll here in the first place?”

There was a huge story behind that, but I stuck with the short answer. “My followers.”

I stopped in my tracks when my phone rang. My stomach sank when I discovered a new Twitter DM from someone named ‘Peebles.’ Oh crap, today’s the day.

“So, um,” I said to Ethan, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen, “did I tell you that Amy wanted to meet up with me?”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “Now?”

I nodded, reading over the message. “She wants to meet at The Tube in about an hour.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Always.”

“Hey,” Ethan said, putting his hand on my shoulder, “it’ll be okay. I know Amy, she’s really cool once you get to know her. And she’s really nice, and she’s probably just as nervous as you are.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay… it’s fine. This is fine.”

“Do you need a distraction or something?”

“Yes please.”

“Wanna drop me off at the office?”

It was a good idea. Driving took my mind off of things. Although, it was a fairly short ride from campus to the office, and Ethan had to get out of the car quickly just in case the blonde alien lady left the building. Although, he did quickly duck back in to kiss me goodbye, and then he went on his way to the office.

Getting to The Tube was a bit more stressful, because I didn’t have anyone to talk me down from the oncoming anxiety attack. I was in the parking lot, trying not to hyperventilate. I should have suggested another place to meet up, given that this particular diner didn’t have a nice place in my history. But I was here now, and I couldn’t back out. It would only make things worse.

We met up and sat at a booth. Thankfully, it wasn’t so busy at this hour. Nerves were still pretty high, though. She ordered a coffee, and I stuck with water.

“Sorry I took a while to contact you,” she began. “So much has been going on, there’s this project we’re all working on. It’s taking up a lot of time.”

“Yeah, I heard,” I told her. “Mark was telling me some stuff about it.” And I turned into a mega-bitch, which I was sure he told Amy about.

She nodded. “Yeah… um, how often do you talk to him?”

The reason why we were here: Mark. I shoved my hands under my thighs to keep them from shaking, but then my whole body began to tremble. I made myself rigid to keep myself still. The last thing I need is for my physiological symptoms to show and freak her out.

“Usually, once a week,” I replied. “But he’s been busy, so…”

“And you guys talk about… the past?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Mistakes we made, moving on. I kind of assumed that he had told you.”

“Yeah, he tells me some things. I know it’s between you guys, so I try not to butt in. I know he’s doing this so he and I can have a better relationship.” She paused. “And he wants to be friends with you.”

“That’s because we were friends before we dated,” I said.

“I know. He would talk about you… like, when we first met.”

Blood began pounding in my ears. If I had eaten anything at all today, I would have thrown it back up. I couldn’t even drink my water.

“He never told me about you,” I softly admitted. “I never knew you existed until he broke up with me.”

Amy’s face fell a little. She leaned back in her seat and stayed quiet.

“I-I mean,” I went on, trying to fill the silence, “it was… it was random, I guess. He very recently told me how long he had known you and I… I suppose it made sense, given how the last couple of months of our relationship were. I don’t know, I just wish I had known about you sooner. Maybe things would have been different. I mean, it still would have hurt, but maybe I wouldn’t have tried to kill myself, I don’t know-”

“Whoa, wait,” Amy suddenly said, sounding concerned and shocked. “What do you mean you tried to kill yourself?”

My eyes widened. For a second, I stayed frozen in my position, my mouth agape. “He never told you?”

“No? Oh my god…” Amy trailed off. “I’m… was it because of him, or us?”

Here we go. Time to hold her hand and not make her feel like a total asshole.

“No,” I replied, but then again I couldn’t lie. “Not necessarily. I’ve had my fair share of bad shit happen, along with my disorders... and for a while, Mark was giving me hope and strength. Then he was gone. But I’m not blaming my shitty mental health on him or your relationship with him. I think…” I sighed as I came to a conclusion that I had to admit. “I think I had it coming with or without the breakup.”

Amy sat there, still looking very distressed and caught off guard. “I-I’m so sorry. I had no idea that happened.”

“Really?” I asked, now confused. “I mean, well, I told him not to tell anyone when it happened, but I assumed that you would have been the exception. Where did you think he was when he disappeared for a couple of weeks?”

“I was still living in Boston. All he told me was that he broke up with you, so I gave him some space until I moved here. I can’t believe he never told me.”

I hesitated. “That’s on me. I asked him to keep it to himself. I realize now that that wasn’t the best idea.”

“Well, I imagine you were in a really dark place,” Amy said solemnly. “It’s not an easy thing to talk about.”

I nodded. “Pretty much.”

The air was awkward all over again. If I had known that Amy never knew about my attempt, I would have kept my mouth shut. Now she knew things about me, personal things. I couldn’t help but feel exposed. It was worse knowing that I had exposed myself in front of the girl that Mark had left me for. It probably wasn’t surprising to her that Mark had decided to dump me.

“So, the Grand Canyon,” Amy said, changing the subject. “You’re really up for that?”

I nodded, despite that her change in tone only added to the nerves. Was it really a good idea for me to go? To all of ‘Teamiplier,’ I was the ex-girlfriend. I was sure to make everything uncomfortable. My presence in general was uncomfortable. Why did I agree to go on this trip?

“Okay, well I hope it’s fun for the both of us.” She smiled.

“Me too.” It’ll only be fun if I could be slightly intoxicated once we got to the park, but lord knows that won’t happen.

~

“Don’t freak out, and don’t get mad okay?” read the text from Ethan.

Honestly, I had taken one step back into my apartment, ready to recover from the day I had. But no, I had to worry and stress even more, just because of the way my boyfriend had worded his text.

“What’s going on?” I replied as I took deep breaths. He wouldn’t break up with me over a text, would he? He wouldn’t tell me anything really serious over a text, right?

Before I could pace in a frantic manner, I got another text.

“Kathryn knows about us. But she won’t tell anyone!”

My eyes widened. I didn’t know how to form a coherent sentence, so I just smashed my keyboard and sent the jumble of letters to him. Then, before I could panic, I sent, “How???”

“Can I tell you over dinner?”

“I have to know NOW otherwise I’ll lose my mind over it until I see you.”

My stomach sank further. Any normal person wouldn’t get so twitchy and irrational over something like this. I was aware of this, yet I was still playing terrible scenarios in my head of Mark finding out and then firing Ethan. Or worse, Mark making Ethan choose between his relationship and his career. Oh god, would I be able to handle that?

Ding!

“I had on lip gloss… from when you kissed me in the car… She kept asking about it, so I told her about us and I made her not tell anyone!”

Well shit. This was my fault. I was going to be the reason why we were exposed before we were ready.

“FUCK,” I typed. “Are you sure she won’t say anything? Did she say anything else?”

“I promise she won’t tell. She’s my friend, I swear she’s cool. Look, can I come over? Idk if this is making you anxious, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

I sighed, now feeling guilty. I was losing my mind over this whether I liked it or not.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess over this ugh,” I sent.

“It’s okay, you’re my mess ❤”

_______

next chapter

[ravensand-writingdesks]

So fucking hurt right now. And I just need to vent. Let it out before it eats me alive from the inside out.

4:23 AM:

It’s been fucking days and we still haven’t talked. I’m trying not to rush things or push you but honestly I just feel like giving up. I’m tired of having hope because hope is what is hurting me. I want to abandon the hope things will come back together because it’s eating my soul alive but I fucking can’t. And it’s hurting me and killing me that I can’t give up on us. And that I don’t want to. I miss my best friend so much and it’s left the biggest fucking hole in my heart that I don’t think will ever heal. But I’d rather go lick my wounds and be alone than keep thinking maybe there’s still hope. Because the logical side of myself knows I’m being fucking stupid and childish.

I just want to fucking scream. Or hit something. Or run until I pass out. Or drink until I forget your fucking name because I can’t hate you. Or forget you. Or give up. I’m so tired. I’m tired of missing you and I’m tired of being sad and I’m tired of every time my phone lights up having hope that it’s fucking you. I’m tired of checking your blog every few hours hoping you’re somehow communicating with me and I’m tired of seeing if you looked at my story or checking your Facebook obsessively. I’m tired of feeling so fucking clingy and pathetic and like a total piece of shit.im tired trying to run that night in my head and piece together what the fuck happened and I’m trying to stop thinking of ways to let you know how sorry I am. I’m so fucking OVER everything in my life making me want to text you. I’m tired of dreaming about us and waking up thinking we’re okay for a brief second, only to have my heart broken all over again realizing that we’re not. And I feel so fucking stupid and childish because I’m here clinging and crying and you seem to not even have a problem cutting me out. And I wish I could do the fucking same. I wish I could be positive and learn a lesson and move the fuck on and I wish I could stop texting you and messaging you all the time even though I know in my heart you aren’t going to reply.... I’m so tired of crying over this fucking situation and I’m so tired.

I FUCKED UP. I WAS A DRUNK ASSHOLE AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I SAID OR DID BUT I CAN PROMISE YOU I DIDNT FUCKING MEAN IT AND I CAN PROMISE YOU IM SORRY. if I could tear off a part of my soul and give it to you, so you could feel how much I apologize for hurting you I fucking would.

If there was something that would make you come back, and be my best friend again, I would’ve done it.

But I don’t know how much longer my heart can stand screaming into the silence with no echo. I don’t know how much longer I can take this fucking pain before I lose my god damn mind.

You can have my festival ticket. Take him. I don’t even care anymore. I’ll UPS you your stuff. I’ll delete your number and block all your social media if you want me to because I can’t leave you the fuck alone. I can’t ducking do it because everything makes me want to text you. Or snap you or call you. You’re my best friend. Or were my best friend? And you’re probably the best friend that I’ll ever get to have had. And it’s killing me. I’ve never felt so fucking pathetic in my entire life. I’ve never been so disappointed and disgusted with myself.

I’m

Just

Tired

YOURE NOT COMING BACK AND I NEED TO GET IT THROUGH MY FUCKING HEAD AND GET THE FUCK OVER IT BECAUSE ITS EATING ME ALIVE AND IM TIRED OF BEING FUCKING MISERABLE OVER IT.

And I’m also tired of hitting you up knowing I’m making your life harder. Im tired of knowing I’m hurting and inconvinencing you and making things worse because it’s not what I want to do. I want to make things easier on you. I want you to be happy, even if it isn’t with me in your life and I really do mean that. It’s just easier in theory than practice because I never thought it’d come to this.

I’m so fucking mad I’m shaking

And it’s not even at you. At all. I don’t blame you one fucking bit for anything. it’s at me. This whole thing is self imposed. It’s my fault. The whole thing is literally on me. You’re just reacting to my asshole-ness. I put you in this position and I don’t blame you nor do I hold anything against you. But I hate this whole bullshit and I hate how much I fucking think about you and miss you and I hate how much I’m hurt because I never thought ANYONE would have this much power over my heart. No one ever has yet.

Fuck everything man fuck it all. Literally. I’m just....I’m so tired of missing you. But I don’t think I’ll ever stop and I don’t think I’ll ever stop hoping for things to be the same. Or better even. I don’t think our friendship will ever stop being my 11:11 wish. But I’m so...

Tired.

[twisted-petal]

Death Continued: Part 5

... "And in case you're still reading... You weren't hiding anyone... When I warned you about my ability to figure shit out, I was giving you the chance to come clean... I told you I just wanted to know. We could have worked something out. Something more pleasant. And YOU... I can't even be vague enough on here for you. You should have listened before...

Gods I could go on forever... Just to finally be heard. For my words to finally be understood? It's not as though I ask for much action, or even a physical presence... A voice, an ear, or some lines of text.

Just stop fighting me... Stop lying... Stop fucking flirting, and stop trying to fix me! I just want some fucking honesty and support! I try so hard to do whatever I can for any of you who come to me. I have sacrificed a great deal for some. The least you could do is humour me for a bit...

/vent

Going to make this last bit quick; FB keeps trying to crash my phone and not posting this, and making me rewrite shit and I need to stop c-c

If you really need to comment or ask a question or whatever, I just ask that you do so in private and just be nice. Please? I've been avoiding social media and my phone in general (save those I felt I could trust and felt safest around...). I don't want to deal with any more crap. I just want to feel normal again, and a lot of people I've been going to or who have come up to me have not made that any easier. I can only hope I've made it clear to any of you, personally, that I have appreciate what little you were able to do for me. Especially not knowing the details about him or anything else that happened last year. I was so determined to fight everything without being too much of a burden, by trying to be sneaky in my search for help.

I didn't want pity! I thought that the less you all knew, the easier it would be to find a friend willing to give me the time, and once things went south it made things worse... For myself and those involved. I hope that it doesn't stick to any one of you, now that I've left you alone or you've left me behind. I get it... Still don't like it. Doesn't make it any less my fault.

If I get any of your usual responses I *will* get pissed off. Don't want to deal with any shit... I've had enough..."

The feedback from the was... Mostly undesirable. I got the responses I specifically asked not to receive, was promised more attention from those who lost contact with me and never received it, and all males tried taking advantage of my "vulnerability". I'm not an idiot...

On October 28th, I went to a Halloween party with my landlady and a friend of hers. She was on her phone the entire time, her friend vanished to go hit some dabs or whatever-the-fuck, and a gal mistook me for an ex's ex (I don't believe they're together) as we wore similar outfits (I saw her go by once that night), and so smacked my ass. Discomfort and awkwardness around. We were at Johnny B's, which added to the anxiety as I worried I would run into a different ex: If I am not friends with my exes, I am more or less terrified to run into them.

I wanted out of here... Around 1:30 I was convincing Corey to come take me home, as I was wearing a corset and fluffy skirt, shoes with heels (hate heels...), it was cold, and my ankle didn't let the cold or the shoes (I was wearing my cosplay from RTX). He finally agreed to come get me, and I invited him in to come chat as we used to - we were not together.

We fell asleep after I curled up to him, still not feeling all that great from my trip to Portland, which I told him. He rarely stayed a whole night, let alone not demand sex. I woke up to him yanking my pants down...

I have been called a liar, a whore, and accused of begging for attention by calling rape. Gods forbid I seek attention or support from those around me at all... I have lost many friends over this.

March 18th it was brought to me attention (in an irritating and vague way) that he had been arrested for sexual abuse. Because of my cowardice, he attacked someone else and on March 8th he was admitted to the local jailhouse. There are now three counts under his name. I don't know if it's from the same gal or others speaking up, but I wish I had the courage and finances to add to his sentence... His bail is set to $50,000 with no release date posted.

I have grown colder and bitchier than ever before, trying to explain to some why this is the case and faced with zero patience, tolerance, or support. Through everything, I have been alone.

I smoked heavily after this, trying to forget. Cut myself off from everyone around me. Eventually I started reaching out to those I was most comfortable around and now they are gone. I am too broken to them...

Puppy insisted I stay with him for a week up in Portland. My stay started off terribly... There were mobs going around to prostest Trump: Breaking windows, starting fires, vandalizing and shit, and he lived a few blocks from where they rallies took place. I kept him up-to-date on when my bus left and when I would arrive - texting him several times as the bus entered the city and I grew closer to the station.

Waiting outside the station, bums who frequented there would ooze closer and a couple confronted me. He assured me he was on his way with his friend (who I was eager to finally meet). Discomfort and anxiety increasing as I was surrounded by these strange people trying to talk to me, I finally made my own way to his place; Puppy's place wasn't all that for from the station, just across the street and over a small bridge.

He finally made it to the station just a few minutes after I got to his complex - he was furious. I was scared and alone... He knew when I would be there! I kept him up-to-date! Why wasn't he just there...... Why would he leave me waiting like that... Alone...

I very much enjoyed the short time I was able to spend with him... He had to work, but we had a couple days to venture out. He also forgot what day I was leaving... It felt like he wasn't at all pleased with my visit... I was mopey and slow from not feeling well, and I wasn't smiling much... I completely destroyed my time with him...

I spent my days watching videos to help me smile more, reading one of the books I got at Powell's, and cleaning his apartment. I swear that boy hadn't cleaned since the day he moved in. It was the least I could do for him - I wanted to feel useful again and care for him as he cared for me... I wanted him to feel relaxed and comfortable and come back to a clean environment. I wanted to see him smile... His smile is my absolute favorite sight, and he always hid it from me because he doesn't like his smile lines. I adore him. Every inch of him... He was my muse, my comfort, my confidence, and my joy.

I don't need him for these feelings, but he was a major source of these that I greatly welcomed - I appreciated his presence far more than he could ever understand or that would matter to him... I wish I could have done the same for him... He's so hard on himself... If he wasn't such a poop-face. But it doesn't matter... He has made it perfectly clear that I am too broken for him... Saying he just wants to focus on himself, only to inform me he's found someone he wants to get close to... Always when I start smiling inside again... I truly wish him luck in finding a mate that will allow him to see all the amazing colors in life that he's missing. I wonder if he ever figured out what those new colors I showed him meant... I hope they weren't bad colors...

- Sidenote: He told me once long ago so I can't remember the name or details exactly, but he sees moods/feelings as color: Synesthesia, I believe. I looked it up to be sure, but there are several different types of color associated sensory conditions, and I don't know all he experiences.... Sensory experience* sounds much better than "condition". Wiki says it's a "phenomenon".

Honestly... I could write just as much as I have now about all he means to me and my interactions with him on the two and a half years I've known him... So...

We visited Powell's, checked out the art store near his place, and took a bus to the comic and pet shops he goes to. I picked up a few books and comics that I very much want to complete, and I had such a great time being out and about with him. I had shut myself away after what had happened... I'd been feeling so dead inside. Still a bit of a shut-in, but I'm finally getting out more to get some things done.

Living with who I am... I continue to struggle with feeling at all decent about myself... Corey being in jail has made job searching easier, as I no longer live around the area he frequented and there's no chance of bumping into him, but my legs have grown weak since my accident at Michaels and it has made me a tad lazy... It doesn't take much anymore for my ankle to start hurting, and my knees have grown a tad wobbly. My confidence is still shot, depression less crippling but still heavy, and I'm just not the bad-ass chick with the smile that brightens any room, anymore...

Actually... There are so many more details I want to get into - of my recent days and those from events I've already described - but I feel I've said enough... I have no one to talk with and I just wish to speak. For someone to finally listen to me and sympathize in some way. To not be spoken to in a textbook, regurgitated manner. I miss having someone to connect with... A back-and-forth conversation about anything: troubles, success, interests, displeasures, complains, approvals - everything.

Ducky told me long ago that it is important to vent... Before he and I got together I bottled up everything and he saw how it was destroying me. Those years before him have been condensed and intensified this year and a fouth, with all that has happened in this short time... There is so much left unsaid.

Today (upon writing this) the family gets together to pick what they want of Grams' old possessions... I have been drinking this afternoon... I'd picked up drinking so I could grow sleepy enough to pass out as my roommate games late into the night and I cannot find sleep. Today I drink for stress and anxiety and sadness. This will not become a habit; I have always been good at avoiding being consumed by addictive substances.

As much as I repeat to myself on a daily basis that I should not exist, I will live on and continue to fight. And no; my roommate does not comfort me, console, or converse with me. He is just there. Sharing a room with a dude suuuuuuucks and I am glad I did not accept his confession. He has proven to be disgusting, wasteful, and inconsiderate. I am still thankful for the invitation to stay here, though. It's just difficult and tiring...

고맙습니다, thank you.

([I hope I wrote that right, I'm still learning and have found too many ways to say the same thing... 고마 ㅝㅛ?)]