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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough.

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly.

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered.

“I like this one,” you said.

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…”

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed.

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head.

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut.

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #Dark Fic #dark!fic #reader x oc husband #fic #series #the devil all the time #of something beautiful but annihilating

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ameliashepherdwannabe · 4 years ago

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This is a prompt from @doep1csh1t

Amelia gets sick (your choice with what) while living at the hospital in season 12 (after Mer kicked her out and she fought with Owen, before Mer’s attack). Maybe Jo and Alex find her and take care of her until Maggie can come help.

THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG IM SO SORRY!! i’ll try to be more active now that my school works done. There’s some jolex here too :)

tw//suicidal thoughts

Let Me Help You

My eyes burned. My throat burned. My head burned. Everything was on fire. I sent everything up in flames. Again. Of course I did.

I was doing good, after derek’s death, after Mer came home. I was with Owen, kind of. I was happy, I laughed, I smiled, I joked.

And now I was in a supply closet sobbing. Hugging a bottle of vodka I took from someone’s locker.

After I yelled at Meredith and she kicked me out, I felt empty, hallow. I went down to the clinic to avoid anybody that I had ever talked with. Which wasn’t a good idea considering it was the beginning of the flu season and people were spitting up germs left and right. I felt horrible. I couldn’t tell if that’s because i’ve been sobbing my heart out or coughing up my lungs for the past hour.

The only thing stopping me from downing the entire bottle was how physically bad I felt. I really wanted to but I was exhausted, my chest was heavy and I couldn’t get my head to lift past the cold floor. What if I was dying? That’d be good. I would see Derek, my dad, Mark, i’d get to know Lexie better. And my son. What if I just died? It would be better then facing whatever mysterious deadly disease I contracted. I try to push myself off the floor but the world spins and another harsh coughing fit forces me back down. Well I guess this is how god wants me to die. Slow, and painfully. Like my life. No, no. There’s no god. No god would take away every ounce of happiness in my life. Nobody in the right state of mind would do it. Well, maybe god has a giant inoperable glioma. Then I guess I could forgive it.

My chest stings, so does my throat. I want to go home, run a hot bath and snuggle into bed, but I don’t have a home. I’m homeless. This wouldn’t be the first time. Hell, it wouldn’t be the second.

The door of the supply closet opens but I have no strength to move. I start crying even harder, tears blur my vision. I know whoever this is going on to think I’m some sort of crazy lady on the floor of a supply closet hugging an unopened bottle of vodka.

“Docter Shepherd?” someone asks, I hear the door shut behind them. I hear concern in their voice and it makes me cry harder. “Do you want me to go?”

I open my eyes and notice Wilson still standing by the door, her hand still on the handle. If she left, I’d be alone, I shouldn’t be alone right now. I shake my head and she starts to grab a few things, as she turns to leave she asks, “Do you need anything?” I start coughing again and crying.

“Don’t go,”’I beg softly, “Please,”

“I’m on Dr. Avery’s service today, I’m sorry but I need to get back. Do you want me to get somebody? Maybe Dr. Grey?” The thought of Meredith seeing she successfully hurt me panic more.

“No, no, please no. I’ll tell him I needed you,” I just wanted someone to hug me and tell me I wasn’t alone. It made me weak and pathetic but i’ve moved way passed the line of giving a fuck about what people think about me.

Jo closed and locked the door. She walked over to me and slowly slid down to my level.

“Alex proposed,” She said softly, I could trace a tear falling out of her eye. “I would do anything to say yes, but I can’t, I love him more then anybody. But I legally can’t,”

I don’t know what she means but I have no right to judge her so I just reach my hand out. Jo grabs it and just the simple human touch makes me start to sob again. And crying made me cough.

“Dr. Shepherd—”

“Amelia,” I interject between my body trying to jack up my lungs,

“Amelia, that cough really doesn’t sound good,” she runs her hand up and down my back in attempt of making my coughs slow down.

Eventually they do. Jo looks down at me with watery eyes and puts her overly cool hand on my forehead. Jo, I’m dying let it happen.

“Dr.-, Amelia. You have a fever,”

“Wilson, death is calling let it happen.”

“Amelia, I don’t think your dying. You probably just caught a bad case of bronchitis.”

I started crying again. I didn’t know if it was relief, embarrassment for thinking I was going to die, or regret for being sick but not dying.

I curl up into a ball, You’re being so weak, Meredith would be laughing her ass off at you if she could see it. My internal monologue is the death of me. I start laughing at the absurd conversation accruing in my head.

Jo sighs, “I can take you home, back to Dr. Grey’s?”

“No, no, no, no,”

“Okay, I’m working over shift and someone’s probably taken care of what I’m supposed to do,”

I took out my phone and texted Jackson that Jo was needed with me. I sat up as I continued to cough, even though every cell in my body wanted me to lie back down, I needed more oxygen. Jo sat there and just rubbed my back.

“I’ll take you back to Alex’s okay? So you can rest? Its the safest place for now I guess,”

I nodded and leaned back against her. My sweaty body against her cool one caused a set of chills to run through me.

“Okay, Amelia, let’s get you home,”

Jo lifted me up under my armpits and I slumpt against her. We walked out into the bright hallway, I heard people’s voices but they were muffled from my fever. I knew they were talking about me. I started to silently sob as we walked.

“It’s okay Amelia, we’re almost there. Hold on,”

—————————————————————————————————————

“I’ve been driving around looking for you for the past hour!” I heard someone yell, he sounded hurt.

“I was at Grey Sloan! And why were you chasing me around?”

“Well why did you bring Amelia back here? Did you kidnap her?”

“Alex, Look at her. How could I just leave her there? I found her crying in a supply closet coughing up her lungs.”

“Jo, why didn’t you just call Meredith?”

“She didn’t want me to!”

“What about Maggie!”

“Could you guys kindly shut the fuck up, or go outside? My head is killing me.” I said hoarsely, coughing a few times.

“I’m sorry,” they whispered,

“Amelia,” Jo walked up to me, “Can I call Maggie?”

“No,” I shook my head,

“Amelia-” Alex jumped in,

Jo whispered something to Alex and then went to the bathroom to get something, my chest burned too much to care.

“I’m sorry,” I coughed, “For making you lie to Meredith and have me infect everything around you with germs,”

“It’s no trouble,” Jo answered, “Alex just went outside to make a call,”

“Oh my god,” I sat up, coughing more, “Oh god this must be so awkward,”

“Lie down, and let’s not talk about it, maybe?” she stuck a thermometer into my mouth before I had the chance to respond,

“Rude,” I teased,

“Very mature of an attending like your self,” she put a teeshirt and sweatpants in front of me, “Put those on in a sec,”

The thermometer beeped, “101.3,” I started to put it on the coffee table but Jo snatched it out of my hands, “You’re pretty bossy for a resident,”

She scoffed, “You’re pretty immature for an attending sooo,” This made me laugh, so it made me cough. Jo sat down next to me and started to rub my back, a sorry attempt to calm my lungs down. “Yeah, that’s bronchitis. Change! Then get in the bed, don’t argue, I’m not ratting you out to your sisters like I should!”

The smile on my face immediately faded, “Meredith’s not my sister.”

“That’s arguable-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I knew she was huge mood killer, that Jo was just trying to get me to laugh.

“Change, then get into the bed. I’m going to set up a humidifier and maybe we can watch a movie?”

I nodded as I finished changing into Jo’s clothes I jumped onto their bed.

“Maggie still has awhile ‘till her shift is over, so your stuck with us for the rest of tonight!” Alex exclaimed, closing the door as he reentered the loft. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Karev, is that fake enthusiasm I’m hearing?” I mutter softly, my eyes slipping shut.

“WHAT!! Of course not!!” I laugh at his response,

“Okay Evilspawn,” I mutter, it made alex laugh. Once everything was quiet, my lungs were the loudest thing in the room. No doubt about it, they were struggling.

“Alex,” Jo asked, setting the humidifier down next to me, “Could you get a nebulizer from the hospital, just in case she might need it,”

”She probably will,” Alex muttered. Just then, I started coughing. Harsh, echoey coughs that made it almost impossible to breathe with.

“Okay, let’s sit you up.” Jo pushed me up and sat behind me as I coughed into my elbow. “Deep breaths, deep breaths.”

“Alex try to hurry up with the nebulizer. I’m gonna order something from the deli across the street so just pick it up on your way back.”

Alex nodded and hurried out. “Do you want noodles in your chicken soup?” I nodded, snuggling closer to her, “I’m making them make it spicy, since supposedly that’ll help the congestion in your lungs-”

I didn’t get to here what else Jo had said because I had just fallen asleep on the spot.

—————————————————————————————————————

“I’m your sister!” I scream,

“You are not my sister. Cristina is my sister. You are Derek’s sister, and derek is gone.” Meredith’s voice echoed. Of everything she has said to me, this one might’ve hurt true most.

“Dr. Grey, I changed the mediastinal drains—” Penny barged in,

“GET OUT!” I yell, “Is this why you hate me? ‘Cause I remind you of him? Does it help you to hate me?”

I’m suddenly shaken out of my nightmare,

“Amelia! Amelia, hey. You’re shaking,” Alex looked at me concerned, “I thought it was your bronchitis but it was just a nightmare. What happened? Were you chased by a giant rubber ducky and thrown into a pool of ice?” he snorts,

“No I was chased by Medusa,” I replied hoarsely, It was then when I realized the uncomfortable nebulizer on my face and tore it off,

“Are you feeling up to eating something?” Jo asked sweetly from the kitchen,

“Umm, yeah. Could I have some of that?” I reached my hand out to alex who was eating some cheap delicious looking chips,

“Fine but you have to have some soup too,” Jo started preparing it while I leaned forward and snatch the bag of takis from alex. This was depressingly hard to do as I put my hands above my head to try and catch my wheezy breath.

“Dude, your pretty fucking desperate for some takis,”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” I cough,

“He knows he just doesn’t care,” Jo laughed,

“Let’s watch a movie,” Alex interrupted, jumping to grab his computer, “How about a horror movie?”

“Fine, but nothings scary anymore. Like i’ve watched all the scary ones all ready,” I reply,

“He always gets scared,” Jo adds,

“I think your talking about yourself,” Alex shoots her a look.

I suddenly start coughing harshly, too harshly. Jo hurries up to me and puts the nebulizer back over my mouth, motioning for me to lie back down.

“How about we just let you rest?” I nod slowly, drifting off into a feverish dreamland.

—————————————————————————————————————

I wake up and feel someone stroking my head, I’m pretty sure I had just slept awhile but I didn’t feel much better. I push away whoever’s touching my head as it makes it pound harder.

“Amelia, hey, you’re awake!” Maggie says softly,

“Ugh, where am I?” I ask groggily,

“Back home, at Meredith’s,”

“What?” I sit up, “I can’t be here!”

“Amelia, it’s okay. Your sick, you need to rest,” Almost on que, I started coughing harshly. Maggie handed me a tissue to spit up some phlegm in.

“Meredith hates me though,” I layed back down on her lap, “I shouldn’t be here,”

“Well Meredith will get off her high horse when she sees how deathly pale and sick you are, huh?”

“Meredith will get off her-” Mer barged into Maggie’s room, “Amelia! What are you doing-, are you okay?”

I give her a thumbs up and cough quietly,

“She’s fine, but let’s not kick each other out, how about that?”

Meredith paled at Maggie’s accusation, obviously regretting what she said. But it was my fault, I pushed her too far. I knew it as I said it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I looked her in the eyes,

“No, no, save your breath,” She sat down next to me and rubbed my back,

“We’re sisters,” Maggie said, “Come on let’s say it together,”

“We’re sisters,” me and Mer muttered,

“Ugh good enough.” Maggie said.

It made me smile.

Fin.

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offtopicoverload · 4 years ago

Note

Any random galaxy thoughts you wanna share? 🧠🧠🧠

so ive been trying to figure out how to answer this for like two days now, and ive got nothing, so im just gonna ramble incoherently about literally whatever comes to mind, but i think thats what you signed up for anyway, so this is on you

im replaying blades rn and nias just the besttttt. i wish more female lis got her treatment, cuz she really wasn't sidelined, like shes fucking there ya know?

im looking through my ocs birthdays cuz i wanted to include the newbies since heights worked last time, and i totally missed violet’s on the 12th, but olives is soon on the 25th, so thats fun. also love the fact that i accidentally made rue’s valentines day without even thinking about it, and she would hate that, so fun. i also dont have one for izzy cuz i dont think i can get her full chart, the site i used didnt go back far enough for like jupiter and stuff i dont think, but here's the newbies birth charts

Rowan (Second Chance) - 21 September 1999

Sun - Virgo

Moon - Aquarius

Mercury - Libra

Venus - Leo

Mars - Sagittarius

Jupiter - Taurus

Saturn - Taurus

Uranus - Aquarius

Neptune - Aquarius

Pluto - Sagittarius

Lilith - Sagittarius

Rising - Gemini

Briar (Late Night Lyrics) - 6 July 1996

Sun - Cancer

Moon - Pisces

Mercury - Cancer

Venus - Gemini

Mars - Gemini

Jupiter - Capricorn

Saturn - Aries

Uranus - Aquarius

Neptune - Capricorn

Pluto - Sagittarius

Lilith - Leo

Rising - Cancer

Oakley (WIP AU) - 26 March 1998

Sun - Aries

Moon - Pisces

Mercury - Aries

Venus - Aquarius

Mars - Aries

Jupiter - Pisces

Saturn - Aries

Uranus - Aquarius

Neptune - Aquarius

Pluto - Sagittarius

Lilith - Libra

Rising - Libra

Rue (Sit and Watch the Hourglass Drain) - 14 February 1992

Sun - Aquarius

Moon - Cancer

Mercury -Aquarius

Venus - Capricorn

Mars - Capricorn

Jupiter - Virgo

Saturn - Aquarius

Uranus - Capricorn

Neptune - Capricorn

Pluto - Scorpio

Lilith - Aquarius

Rising - Scorpio

my blogs been so empty, so thank you for sending asks and stuff, idk what's going on rn but thank you, you truly are the best aries and i adore you

OH, idk if you play lovestruck, but one of my favourites, nysa, came back yesterday, so thats great, i think i want to write something for her, but it'd be pretty long, so idk. the only idea i have would be to make the time between seasons an actual jump, and to up the stakes, and im not sold on that yet. i already have a million other things to write, but who knows since im entirely unpredictable and unreliable

i think i want to try the thing where you write like everything for a fic, and start dumping out chapters, then i could trust myself not to get distracted, but ALSO, im way too impatient for that, so then were just back at square one, and its getting frustrating and stressful, especially when im not even doing the moodboard thing which was really fun while it lasted

i wanted to make one for allegra cuz ive never seen one for her, but i get why now. i have no idea what to do for her, so i might try again after doing like talia or someone, just to practice

i want to draw rainbow lips. no reason, just want to, and maybe i will

i wish i was better at art, i have this one drawing stuck in my head for months and it'd be so dope to make it, but i suck and cant work on something for very long without getting annoyed about making progress soooooo

maybe ill try traditional stuff again, i always did okay, and maybe i could draw briar or something for you ashfkjddslk

im currently playing a fun game of “am i extra depressed again or just need to get my life together OR do i need to find a new interest?”

but here's the thing. i dont want to find a new interest and abandon all this, i really like it, but litgs super dead, which is just fucking fantastic, and choices is so big and overwhelming, and lovestruck is messy as fuck, so im just hanging out here man. just fucking around

ANYWAY, i wrote a thing, but i dont even know if i can fit it into sawthd, or if itd be a good description, but ima dump it here until i figure it out cuz it kinda vibes, right?-

Do you ever wonder it would be like to to crush something so delicate in the palm of your hand, to watch the glass crack and splinter into shards, to watch them cut your skin like paper, to watch ruby red droplets glitter with the reflections and refractions, sparkle in the light or gleam in the dark? Do you ever wonder how bad it would hurt, for the fragments to slice through you so easily, like a knife cutting butter, a rock splitting waves, a bird parting clouds, a destruction so simple and easy? Do you ever wonder if it would be worth it? If the stinging cuts and splinters stuck in your skin as blood traverses the lines in your palm like water through a river would be worth it, just to watch the fragile remains of something that was once whole sparkle like tiny diamonds, just to watch a million different slivers of yourself staring back at you, just to watch the way everything falls apart, one way or another?

this isn't helping the depression thing is it asdkfjs

#can it kc #asks #best aries #you can just ignore most of this my brains in overdrive rn

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camistired · 4 years ago

Text

the peculiar one

chp. 1 // an emotional beginning

not edited

december 31, 2018

word count: 2671

song: alice by avril lavigne

—

On this particular humid summer day, I find myself asking the same question I always ask myself when I know it's not going to go anywhere good.

‘Why am I here?’

Four simple words that I usually used as an excuse to not move from under my comforter. Four simple words that I used to stay in room and read a couple of my mom's old journal entries. Four simple words that don't mean anything simple.

But today, they weren't going to do much and change my plans.

For the entire summer after I learned that I was able to attend public school again, I've been trying to work on getting a better habit of actually doing things and not being locked in my room. And today was no exception.

I lazily raise my head from the pillow and begrudgingly climb out of bed. I grab my towel off of my chair before trudging into my bathroom. I quickly strip from my sweats, baggy shirt, and undergarments before hopping into the warm water of the shower.

I don't know what I was going to do today. I knew that both Lila and Mar were going to be busy at work and the only person home was going to be Dannie, who usually minded his own business.

With a silent, frustrated sigh I began wash myself with body wash that was scented to smell like cherry blossoms. I don't know how or why I was attracted to the smell but I didn't do much questioning of it.

I stuck my head under the water, letting my purplish tinted silver hair get drenched with the pellets of the warm water. I wipe the water from my eyes, contemplating on whether to wash my hair or not. Deciding against it, I turned the water off and climb out into the bathroom. I wrap myself in my towel before walking back into the main part of my room.

I walk over to my dresser before pulling out a thin black and white plaid shirt, black jean shorts, and a grayish blue t-shirt. I started getting dress as I hum softly under my breath. I was slipping on my plaid shirt as three quick raps were heard at the door. I move to open the door to see Daniel, his face pale from the blood that drained his face.

“What's wrong, Danny?” I ask, slightly concerned for my brother. He quickly hands me his phone before running into his room, probably to get something.

I look down at the phone in my hands and look at the messages between him and Lila;

From Lila: hey, is Alex up? I've been texting but I'm not getting anything.

From Daniel: she's in the shower, why?

From Lila: it's about dad. his brain activity is working alarmingly unusual

they don't know if something is seriously wrong or if he's waking up

From Lila: hold on, let me call you

My breath hitches as I read the conversation. I quickly slip on a pair of high tops and practically ran down the stairs. Daniel was waiting patiently by the door ready to go.

I handed him back his phone as I turn to open the door only to be greeted with the face that I feel like is always judging me.

“Alice..! What a surprise... What're you doing here?” I force out in a cheerful tone. I never had much family that was around, and I should be greatful for Alice being here, but I feel like the person I read about and the person I see almost everyday is two different people.

“Lillian called and told me about Michael, so I'm here to take you guys to the hospital.” Her tone was strict and left no room to say no, but there was a certain tenderness behind it that would be hard to notice if you were anyone else.

I sigh, knowing I couldn't argue much with the woman in front of me, “Alright, come on let's go.”

She has a small victorious smile on her face as she moves towards the car.

I sigh and look at Daniel who just shrugs and skips towards the car. I roll my eyes and close the door behind me and locking it before getting into the back of Alice's car, seeing as Betty was sitting patiently and bored in the front seat. The engine roared as she switched the gearshift to drive and pulled out the driveway.

As we drew closer to the hospital the knot in my stomach tightened and my breathing sped up into quiet tiny pants. I look out the window to, hopefully, calm my nerves. And, unfortunately, the silence in the car isn't helping one bit. I silently prayed for someone to say something before we get there, but something tells me it isn't going to happen anytime soon.

I felt a small pat on my leg and I look up to see Daniel looking at me with some sort of assurance. I smile softly at him and I rub his shoulder to try and reassure him that I'm okay, but I can tell it does little to nothing to comfort him.

I felt my phone vibrated in my pocket and I pull it out to see it was from Jughead. My nerves calm down a little, but not much. I open the text from my best friend;

From Juggy: hey are you not at home?

no one's opening the door and it's

locked

From Lexi: wowow you show up my

house without notice? and think

you can casually waltz into it like

you own the place?

From Juggy: yea, cause i know you

don't care

From Lexi: what if i was in the shower, eh?

From Juggy: didn't your mom used to make us take baths together when we younger?

From Lexi: we were two and we dragged mud throughout the house. she didn't care at that point

From Lexi: plus we're OLDER now. we might as well be dating if you walked in on me showering

From Juggy: uh-huh

From Juggy: you know you love me

From Lexi: sure

From Lexi: omg, im going to die

From Juggy: im missing the picture here, you're going to die from what?

From Lexi: i can't tell. it's either this thick awkward tension or my anxiety

From Juggy: im still very confused

From Lexi: im on my way to the hospital but im stuck in a car with Danny, Betty, and Alice

From Juggy: alright, i'll meet you there

From Lexi: huh?

From Juggy: idk why you're heading to the hospital, but your stuck in a car with two people you don't know if they hate you or not, so that tells me that it is important

by itself alone

From Juggy: so, i'll meet you at the

hospital

From Juggy: don't know when i'll get there, so good luck until then

The car takes a sharp turn into a free parking spot and before the car jerks to a complete stop, I already had my seat belt off and was sprinting out of car and into the building. I stop myself from going into the room and stop at the receptionist.

“Hi, I'm just double checking, but Michael Nelson is still in room 22-C, correct?” I ask as she checked on her computer for the correct room number.

She nods and looks at me, “Yes he is, miss. Go right ahead.”

“Thank you so much, have a good day.” I rush out before heading down the corridor to the right room that I've been in so many times. I stop at the door and I contemplate going inside for a moment. My hand subconsciously raises up and grasp the door knob before I can even think about what was happening. It was at that moment, I knew I didn't need to think much longer.

I twisted my wrist until I hear the door make a soft 'click'. I pushed the door open and took in the sight in front of me. Lila was sitting at the end of the bed uncomfortable looking bed, her words falling silent in my ears as she talks to the man laying down, who was being covered by a curtain in the room.

I walk in the bland room, the door closing softly behind me. I stalk towards the bed to be greeted with a pair of pale eyes that I'm so used to be closed. My breath gets caught in the back my throat as a small gasp echos through the seemingly empty room. His eyes lock with mine and in a blur of a second, my arms are wrapped around the males neck and quiet whimpers fall from my lips as small tears fall from my eyes.

The feeling of his arms wrapping around my waist to return the embrace made me completely lose it; crocodile tears, full on sobbing, and clinging on to him tighter - scared that the moment I loosen the hold I have on him, he'll leave me again.

I hear the sound of swift footsteps entering the room through my crying as I let out all of my emotions on this one man that I thought I had lost for the rest of my life. The feel the bed shift and more footsteps before the door closes. I'm suddenly pulled closer and I'm, now, laying on the fragile man you seems to not even give a care in the world that I'm laying on him.

For a moment, I felt like the little girl who laid on her dad all those years ago;

“Daddy..?” I coughed out as the toxic smoke filed out of the exploded glass from our previously beloved family home. A younger Daniel laid on the grass, silently asleep and unhurt. My dad had a cut on his temple and was breathing heavily yet very, very slowly.

I laid my had on his chest hearing his faint heartbeat. I prayed silently that he'd wrap his arms around me. Even with his skin basically burned from the fire, he seemed cold as ice. And I did the only thing I knew to do at the time.

I screamed for my dad. But he was to far gone to reply.

I don't even know how long even been laying there, but I've eventually stopped crying and he started running his fingers through my hair. I felt comfortable when I heard the door open and close. I realized that I was probably being selfish and slowly got off of him, wiping my eyes. I look up to see that Daniel and Lila had walked in.

They look at me and smile genuinely at me. Lila looks down over Daniel and ushers him towards dad. He walks over to him and hugs his torso. I stare at the fourteen year old as the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. I didn't even realize that my sister was standing next to me until she wrapped her arm around my shoulders, making me jump a little.

She chuckles softly and looks at me, “Jughead is waiting out in the hall with the Cooper girls. Want me to let him in?”

I stifle my laugh at the thought of poor Jughead standing in the hall with Alice and Betty. Okay maybe being with Betty, not so bad, but Alice is pretty bad. I nod at her as she let's her arm fall and goes to get Jug.

I shrug my bag off my shoulders and open it and see the worn journal sitting in there from the last time I went out to Sweetwater River. I pull it out and examine the torn leather. I look up and to see Daniel talking to dad about whatever, but the look on both of their faces made me smile softly. I see a mop of midnight hair under a familiar beanie in my peripheral vision, making me smile a little.

I turn towards him and I feel a bit more relaxed, especially knowing that he's here to help even when I don't need to ask. A part of me even felt giddy that he decided to come here instead of go to Pop's or something. Maybe it's just the relief that he came here without me even saying anything or even asking.

Maybe.

He wraps an arm around me in a side hug, which threw me off slightly but I returned the hug regardless. It was comforting to know that he was still by my side especially since we've known each other's practically since birth and he hasn't gotten sick of me yet.

Dad looked up and greeted Jug with a smile. My best friend returned the gesture before sitting in a chair on the side of the room were on. Soon we caught him up on everything.

His face fell solemn after we've informed him that mom was still missing and that the sheriff's office said they needed to step away from the case. It was still open – barely – and if they found new information, it would be added to it. However, they said that years ago. If they, or anyone, doesn't find anything soon, I'm sure they are going to close the case and it'll be an unsolved mystery.

Suddenly Lila's phone started ringing. She looked at the screen and smiled softly before answering it, bringing the speaker to her ear.

“Hey, babe. How's everything at the shop go-? What?” I watch her movements as she went from happy and calm to concerned and frigid, “Mar-Marlene! Slow down, I can't understand you.”

She turned towards me and Jug before turning forward again, “Okay, okay... I don't think I can go down there right now, I'm here with dad. How about I send Jughead and Alexandria there instead, will that be okay? .....Alright. I love you. Bye.”

I look at Jug and he shrugs, just as confused as I was. Lila hung up and turned towards us, “Something happened down at Sweetwater River. I hate asking you two to go, but I have to finish up here, then help Danny to get back home and go back to the shop– it's just a mess right now and I need someone down there with Mar.”

She ran her hand through her dark colored hair as she avoided looking at the males behind her. The worried line creased in her face made me sigh softly before nodding to ease her mind a little.

“Yeah we can go.” I can see the relief wash ovee her as I stand up and shrug my bag back over my shoulder as Juggy does the same. She engulfs me in a tight hug, mumbling ‘thank you’ to me before letting me go.

I walk out of the room with the raven haired boy after saying ‘bye’ to dad and Dan. Not realizing that after I left the room that mom's journal fell out of my bag onto the floor of dad's hospital room.

As we trudged towards Sweetwater River, the sound of sirens in the distance made me start to worry with each step we took towards the river I've began to love to find quiet. As we approach, we scan over the people which seemed to be the whole town.

I find Marlene, who is hyperventilating away from the crowd. I tighten my grip on my bag and jog towards her, not really caring if Jug followed me or not. I place my hand on her shoulder and she flinches, whipping her head towards me before she physically relaxes.

“Mar, what is going on?” I ask softly, removing my hand from her shoulder as the runs her hand through her hair.

“It's the Blossom's. Something's happened to Jason.”

And it was at this moment, that I swore that history may have just repeated itself.

#riverdale #jughead jones #jughead jones x ofc #angst #original fanfiction #betty cooper #alice cooper #original female character #slow burn #mutual pining #riverdale season one

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vanillaicebear · 3 years ago

Text

i would like to not think for some days

literally just sit for hours and just be, or not feeling like being who i think i am, just empty, nothing to feel or think at all

like no identity so no one can see me, think about me, know me, have an opinion or idea of me. i dont want to be the product of everything bad that ever happened to me. and even then i think the core of my personality was quite manic and impatient and egoistic and i hate to be that person. it makes me feel narcisstic and disconnected. how in the world does one change?

id like to return to the womb or even before. to just consciousness with no story so i can at last connect to the very source of existence and just live in pure love and light which is the peace i crave for. for i feel only that will be the solution to the suffocating, draining way i experience myself and others.

if id never be here no one would have missed me but now that i am here people will probably miss me (or the idea of me) even though i feel im not being true and im a lazy egoistic manic disappointment. i hate how that part of me is always content and how the part of me that awakened to myself, the one writing this, is screaming and sufficating wanting to be a good, pure, empathic person. it’s like im stuck in this mind with a demon or a devil. to live like this and be aware of the demon as im making any move, forming any sentence, talk to whoever. its like a curse.

so i won’t feel egoistic, lazy, guilt, insecure, anxious, weird, fake, try hard, analytic, careless, drained, overwhelmed, scared, unwanted, disliked, judged, a disappointment, childish, incapabale of changing & growing, frowned upon, disrespected, misunderstood, ignored, unheard, paranoid, angry, hateful, envious, judgemental, disconnected, hypervigilant, crazy, manic. those are ever lingering in me even when im not thinking about it. it makes me me. its who i am made up of

0 notes

angeljonghyun · 7 years ago

Text

So i guess here goes my longer ramble about my feelings and thoughts. No need to read it. Feel free to ignore it. The only way for me to feel relief is to post it online in some way and although i know tumblr is such a toxic site its the only space that feels right for it. its probably full of typos and doesnt make any sense, but hey who cares.

So yeah

Lately a lot of things happened, things which im thankful for and things that help me heal, but theyre not big of a help since my emotions are so strong. As some might know im currently in a clinic for relaxation 5 days a week from 10 am-2:30 pm and its pretty tough. Being around people again, experiencing painful moments during acupuncture (they find good spots that make me cry, not even really bc theyre hurting but they just make me feel all my inner pain all at once), feeling uncomfortable around certain people there and not loving all therapists bc theyre way too harsh with their words.

The past weeks have been intense and exhausting.. and since its all about relaxing i had much time to think. I had lots of time to think about jjong. Sadly it never felt like i have space, strength and time to heal properly.

I feel lots of pain,my heart feels so heavy, im bitter and im weak? Im forcing my emotions to stay calm, i hate crying in the clinic, i cant open up properly and just dont want to cry there all the time although i know i should but i just cant.

Jjong is on my mind 24/7 like literally 24/7 hes always there, always was and idk how much longer he will be but i want him to leave. My memories and the emptiness which i feel is too much, its draining me its hurting so freaking much that i cant even put it in words and the bad thing is that no one really understands.

People may know that im sad in a way but i dont think anyone understands my pain completely, obviously not, no one ever knows how one truly feels, but its a devastating feeling. Its a feeling that makes me feel quite lost and lonely, because the only person i always believed would understand my pain was him. He was my safe haven, he was the one who would be there and never judge and just understand.

Its a really sick part of my mind which has still control over this part of my emotions, i cant trust anyone, i always.. ALWAYS feel judged and i always feel like a burden and i never want to talk about my struggles because it only causes so much more chaos or eventually i never feel like the person tries and feel all lonely and unimportant again.

Jjong he was just there.. you know ?

Just his existence caused some kind of comfort for my soul, a place to rest and feel nothing but good things for a bit although even he was hurting me too, but i accepted it bc he was far away and it was ok. He was so far away always and that gave me the chance to create the 'perfect' comfort zone. I didnt know him, he was never here.. i will just pick out parts i need and use them to stay alive.

Its not something good, but i feel like everyone does this stuff with their bias. Some more than others. I did it too much and that shows how weak and hurt my soul is. Instead of working on my problems properly i just fled into the comfort of jjongs existence, one that was so very similar to my mothers, my mother who i have lost in november 2014. winter... buried in december. Winter. The season where I lost the most important person in my life not only once, but twice now.

Jjong was like a mother to me. I cant describe my feelings for him in another way. He protected me from so much evil within myself while i wanted to protect him too at all costs and it feels HORRIBLE to have failed yet another time. It hurts so fucking much that i lost him too. He who was the biggest reason for me not to kill myself after my mom died. He who was the reason why i started eating again after developing an eating disorder. He who caused so much good in my life. He who in some way managed to manipulate me in the best possible way.

In the end it was all me, i know that, but its still the bond i had to jjong. A sick and sad one and the worst part is that i felt ready to let go slowly at the end of last year. I started realizing that i coudlnt be thinking about him all the time anymore. I want to start going to school again after 4 years of nothing but therapy. I would HAVE to let go and create a more healthy relationship. I was so ready. And then he took his own life..

He stole the opportunity from me to change. He left me here. He left me and all my problems still attached to him behind. Hes not here anymore and although i never saw him or heard or felt him in real life it makes such a huge difference to me and at the same time it doesnt. That is one of the most confusing and depressing feelings ive ever felt.

I wanted to see him in 2018.. i had many chances to see him but never one to go with me. I finally had someone to go with... and now im here.. with that opportunity gone. My biggest wish my biggest dream, the ONE thing that kept me alive for so long. Gone... all ive ever wanted was to see him live. And now.. yeah.

Those are all selfish reasons. I know that. If you even read this then no its not all i feel, but of course my feelings towards him are most important to me, its the only feelings i can work on and the only ones i truly feel. My healthy grief is there too. A distanced version of what i personally feel and no other could. But thats not truly what this post is about. Please dont judge.

So now im here and i dont know what to do.

Death has been the worst and most intense trigger in my life forever. I started being so afraid of death as a child that i could not sleep anymore bc i thought i would die. It was a horrible time, therapy followed, fear left for a few years and came back as strong as ever. Its here too now. My fear. Another reason why i am alive now, yet its not strong enough to truly shut my self destructive thoughts up. Ive noticed that around the time of jjongs burial. I was ... so ready to leave. I still feel sympathy and empathy for myself there. Bc my pain is so big. Its truly so immense but no one truly knows or cares much. Maybe my therapist, but i doubt it.

Well im now always thinking about death and jjong being dead and ive said before that these thoughts are really killing me inside. Idk where he is, how he is, how he feels, does he feel? Whats up with him... what happens??? Its so scary. I find zero comfort in the thought of him resting bc where is he? Is he resting? Does he know? Where is the man i love so freaking much? Where is my mom? Is she with him? Are they lonely?

Ive always said

When its about death, i envy religious people. They have something to hold onto. I have nothing but the unknown in my head. Another one of my biggest fears and my loved ones are stuck in there. In the unknown. And im not there and i couldnt say goodbye to either of them.

Im so bitter i envy everyone whose bias is still there and im always thinking why him. Why HIM why another person of My life why someone i love so much why when i was feeling so much better thanks to him why did he have to suffer. Will i lose everyone?

Im afraid to sleep still bc im scared to wake up to news of another loved one gone. The fears and memories, theyre everywhere. I cant escape and i hate it and dont know how to process.

The most important form of jjong to me was and still is the fictional one, although jjong as a distant human being will always be more fictional to me than real. The fictional version which i have created for my own reasons, its still there just like always, its still cheering me up, its sweet its cute and lovely, but still hard to work with bc i always end up thinking about the real jjong.

Now after seeing the pictures of his grave i rather see that image than him as a person. I welcome that. Im glad i saw the pics bc its all more real to me now, im glad i saw the burial video.. although i never wanted it to be filmed or real in the first place. I dont think i would be still as sane as i am atm if i didn’t see this stuff.

I know that im doing quite good.. i should be proud of myself i guess.. but my pain is overshadowing everything else to the point where im completely at loss of every emotion just thinking about jjong not being here anymore.

Knowledge about his passing, own experiences and the whole process, everything. It haunts me.

Its quite a long way to go i think. I always felt so close to him, we were so similar and although he had many flaws i didnt quite like, especially as i was getting more healthy and he was still stuck, i still loved him so much and accepted that. He was getting so much better from and outside point of view and maybe that was the reason why he finally found strength to leave and its such a sad thing to think about, but i cant really change a thing anymore.

Sadly. Yeah ..

At the end of this i just want to say. Please just care, be there and if a depressed person in your life gets better please pay special attention bc it might be their chance to end it all. I dont want people to die bc of that dumb fucking illness anymore and i know its not possible to prevent it completely but well..

Im tired and theres still so much more to say for me but i cant say much more now. My head hurts and i need to get up and do something in order to forget about all of this for a while.

Please stay strong, please dont give up. I promise you one day it will get better, never fully ok, but better.

Im trying my best to find joy in jjong and shinee again, i doubt that i will, but im trying. I wont leave the fandom now, but im not the same anymore. Listening to shinees or jjongs music is impossible, watching videos too. If you feel the same its fine. Just do whats right for you. Im just here feeling happy for the others and hoping that theyre feeling better slooowly each day a little. Just like i hope it to be for everyone else.

If you came till here. Thanks for caring. Please take care of yourself, you are very loved. Life is hard, but not impossible.

Stay strong.

#personal #longpost #negative #tw:suicide #tw:death

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jeonwrit · 8 years ago

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Mornings Without Good Coffee

originally based off this (but really i veered off course) jungkook x reader genre: fluff + not-a-morning-person/rich asshole!jeon word count: 2799 warnings: none, but the fluff thoooo, im disgusted by myself

Jungkook knows that when his marimba alarm rings in the AM, he has to get up. He can’t revel in the silk of his bed after a week of late nights that have succeeded in draining his energy to a lowly poor amount, and he most certainly can’t take his goddamn time with getting up. He’s given his personal assistant the week off (something about his father being sick) so no wake up call, no suit ready and waiting on his hangar, no hand-crushed coffee beans in his coffee. This means, not only does he have to make his own fucking coffee, he has to pick out his own goddamn suit, and his own goddamn cufflinks, and this is so goddamn stupid. Though Jungkook can’t quite remember the last time he put his cufflinks on by himself, he’s sure that it can’t be that difficult. He’s wrong. Terribly wrong. At least he managed to pack for himself. At least he knows how to drive to the airport. And if he can’t drive, then he’s sure he can get a helicopter to pick him up from the house.

The coffee tastes horrible, he tried to crush his own coffee beans, but when they fell into a mess all over the floor, some pieces crushed like pecans and others smashed into fine dust that looked like cumin powder, he gave up.

The black BMW he drives waits for him outside, the setting moon before the dawn shining on it’s perfect surface. He looks at the immaculate paint job and smiles. At least something is going right this morning, other than his really fucking impeccable alarm. On the way to Incheon, he picks up a espresso from a fast-food restaurant. It tastes like shit also to his freshly-grounded-coffee beans taste buds.

When Jungkook walks into Incheon Airport on Monday morning (actually it’s not so much morning as it is really fucking late night, at least for Jungkook) at 3:10 AM, he expects it to be empty, at least of all those perky vacationers, who usually leave on Fridays. He expects it to be quiet, only the low hum of the conveyor belt and maybe the occasional rumble of a half-empty airplane taking off overhead. He expects it to be peaceful, only a cup of black coffee, a no sugar, no cream americano to be exact, in his hands and a black Tumi bag that he can store carry-on.

His shoes, freshly polished, scuff against the floor, and he’s missing a cuff link to his new suit. Without an assistant this morning, he’s falling apart, from the seams of his jacket to the tie that doesn’t match or suit the business meeting that he’s supposed to be attending. Jungkook scowls.

He gets in line to get his boarding pass (the electronic machines don’t make much sense, and what’s the use in that when there are people for a reason to help a person) behind a woman. She also carries a black Tumi bag, and in her black pumps and pencil skirt, she looks like she is leaving town for a business meeting.

But then she opens her mouth. “Hi, I’m going to Busan,” she says. And yes, if Jungkook were a romantic he would describe her voice as a fairy’s, not unlike his best friend Jimin’s, all tinkling bells that don’t fail to light up the air around her and lullabies that seem to reflect all the moonlight keeping the world awake at night. But Jungkook’s not a romantic, so he doesn’t think that (yes, he does), and her cheerful voice, just like every other cheerful, perky-ass voice, sets his teeth on edge. It doesn’t help that he’s going to Busan too, and it’s quite likely that he will be on the same flight as her. He mumbles an excuse me, pushing past her to get to the other kiosk, where another official dressed in blue and white airplane color awaits him.

And the girl turns, opens her mouth to say sorry, most likely, but then stops. She probably sees the expression of ultimate distress and distrust and disgust on his face because her mouth arranges itself into a scowl and she frowns. Jungkook wishes she would stop because, unfortunately for his sanity, pretty girls with frowns make up some of the parts of his brain that file away most annoying people in the world.

But instead of the probably insincere, habitual sorry that Jungkook expects, she spits, “Yes, excuse you.” Jungkook has enough to control to prevent his face from turning red, but he knows the tips of ring-clad ears are burning like hell. Her face is pretty, and he wants to reach out to touch the tips of her hair that looks too soft to be real. Her eyelashes are long and they dust across her cheekbones with every blink of eyes that Jungkook is sure belong with stars. He wishes he had enough courage to stay around and talk, but his body betrays him and he spins on his heel to talk to the noticeably male flight attendant.

After attaining his boarding pass, Jungkook walks through the long halls corridors of the airport. The intercom calls for flights 712, 713, and 256, in its staticy female voice, the epitome of computerized feeling.

His gate enters his field of vision, but he stops to get another cup of coffee that will keep away the sleep, like a ward against evil. He almost chokes on the tasteless nastiness of the black bitter coffee. Yes, Jungkook has resigned himself to this type of coffee, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it, no matter how many times he tells himself he needs it. But he doesn’t and as a night owl by nature, he’s sure coffee doesn’t help him any. He sips away, already used to the horrid taste, like a first-time smoker gets used to his cigarette.

He gives his boarding pass to the attendee who stands patiently waiting. She’s taken aback by Jungkook’s hostile expression, but Jungkook’s knows this look by now, in fact he’s intimately familiar with it.

“Sir,” she says, pointedly staring at the cup of coffee in his hands. “You’ll have to throw that away.”

“Why?” he asks her, as nice as is possible for him right now, but it still comes off as mean.

“We do not allow food or drink on domestic flights, sir,” she patiently says.

“And when did you change the policies?” Jungkook inquires.

“I do not know, sir, I believe this has always been our policy.”

Jungkook doesn’t look away from the woman as he throws away the cup in the trash that stands next to her.

Jungkook walks into the plane, with his Tumi bag, and his black shoes, and his tailored jacket, in a huff.

His seat is annoying too, the pillow and the blanket that are usually customary in flights this early in the morning are both missing, and Jungkook wants to sleep. He wishes he didn’t get the coffee because he can feel the jitters buzzing through his veins, his brain struggling to find fatigue and finding none. He slumps in his seat, wishing for the business class ticket he usually gets.

He’s finally staring contentedly outside the window, when she walks towards him. She doesn’t carry anything but a small brown leather backpack, and a phone, into which she is speaking rapid-fire Korean. The Tumi bag is gone, obviously checked in. He stares at the graceful curve of her neck (it’s actually a bit like a swan’s, but, you know, without the white feather down) for a few seconds, watching the pulse flutter at the top of her collarbone, and she flushes when she catches his unrelenting staring.

The phone clicks off, and she takes out what is obviously her airplane ticket from the brown leather bag, forehead creasing. Jungkook tries not to think about the fact that she looks incredibly cute, the skin between her eyebrows furrowing, and bright eyes squinting so that he can’t see what color they are anymore.

“So,” she says, annoyed, and though Jungkook does wonder what has piqued her annoyance, he is more curious about her herself. Her eyebrow raises. “You seem to have taken my seat.”

“No.” Jungkook is bristling, because who does she think she is. He pulls out his own ticket from his wallet in his back pocket. “I do not believe I have. You see my ticket here, says 9...” Jungkook trails off.

There is silence as she waits for him to continue.

“Does it say A or B?” she inquires, that note of patient annoyance in her voice. Really Jungkook thinks it is condescension.

“B. I suppose I read it wrong,” Jungkook says, the apology in his voice noticeably missing. He gets up into the aisle, leaning into her as he does so. She steps back.

Jungkook tries to get more comfortable again (but comfort obviously doesn’t exist in economy), but he finds himself staring at her, her profile much more interesting than the small window on her right. She reads a SkyMall magazine, and Jungkook finds himself much more entranced than he would like.

The plane rumbles as it takes off, the vibrations making Jungkook sick, he’s always hated the sound and the stale air of the plane. But quickly he finds himself falling asleep with headphones in his ears and the sweet sound of Dean melting honey upon his eardrums.

When Jungkook wakes up, he smells mango and mint, a fruit cocktail in the air, and he’s swallowing hair, the strands stuck in his mouth and in his nose. It’s not bad precisely, the luscious locks smooth and silky, but there is a weight on his chest that he can’t say was there before, a weight that’s actually quite nice, Jungkook smiles. Maybe the morning never fucking happened and it was all a nightmare. Yes, nightmares tend to be actually scary, not incredibly boring, but who knows.

He opens his eyes, the blurry lines of the airplane coming into sharp awareness, and Jungkook becomes painfully aware of the vibration of the airplane, he can tell from a quick glance at the window that they are still in the air. And another quick glance tells him that it’s–

Her. She’s sleeping on his chest, little wisps of hair blowing out of her space with every breath, light snores that sound like a lullaby Jungkook could fall asleep to, her sweet face unmarred by annoyed scowls. If he thought she was pretty before, with her glares of dislike, she’s beautiful now, all peaceful and still and so, so relaxed. He can’t deny that he’s attracted to her. He lets her sleep, lets her stay lost in the land of dreams, in the land of beauty and horrors. Really though, it’s for his own benefit, he could stay here smelling the orange and green scent of her hair forever, letting it wash over him like a tidal wave, too much and altogether too little, the waves pulling him under and over; he’s unable to stop himself from falling into the chasm of her, though he knows little about her, not even able to let the sweet taste of her name grace his lips. Though only this morning he hated her and all the cheeriness she represented. He’s been pulled so deep that he lets her pull him into dreamland with her, and his breath slows and deepens.

She’s staring at him: he can tell from the prickling feeling of his face, the piercing of her eyes, noticeable even with his own eyes closed. Jungkook’s mind wants to leap to conclusions (What if they have a connection?), but he forces himself to stop.

“I can feel your glare,” he smirks and opens his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been hated so intensely by someone I don’t know.”

She blushes, the pretty pink shading her face like a painting, and Jungkook’s hand itches to touch her pink cheeks, or maybe draw it. He would do it in pastels, wine, and sunset, and rose gray.

“I’m sorry.” Then to Jungkook’s extreme disappointment, she turns and looks outside the window. But Jungkook can’t help himself from teasing her.

“So,” he drawls, “Did you sleep well?”

“Fine,” she mutters.

“Yes,” he announces, “I’m sure my chest was incredibly comfortable.”

And she blushes again, but this time his mind jumps to white sheets and long nights and her coral cheeks against his silk duvet.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” she says.

“Don’t be.” She swallows at his words and turns to look at Busan; from the air, the sea-city is beautiful, but the plane circles the city for the third time now, and Jungkook knows it can’t be that interesting. He keeps hoping for her to turn and look at him, with those eyes as deep as oceans, just as full of emotion, ever changing, ever beautiful. Maybe she’ll talk to him. And maybe she won’t. But maybe she’ll say–

“Hey.” There is an apologetic look on her face, all wide eyes and downturned puckered mouth that Jungkook wants to kiss. He wonders if tastes like the strawberries it looks like. He wonders if he will be given a chance to smooth the remorseful look that shadows her face. “I’m sorry. About earlier I mean. I just– I was really stressed, and I’m not a morning person, and I’m incredibly sorry.”

Jungkook can’t help the grin that stretches his mouth, her pout is just so cute, and so fucking adorable. He doesn’t know what has made him take a complete 360, but the girl is cute, so why the hell not forgive her.

“It’s okay. I can’t deny it, I was a bit of an ass, too.”

Her eyes of galaxies widen, “A bit?” she choruses, in a tone that tells him she thinks his assholery was much more than a bit.

“You know, a smidgen.”

“Definitely more than a smidgen.”

“You think?” he asks, and the grin has definitely been permanently etched onto his face. He doesn’t ever want to stop grinning like this, so wide it hurts. Probably a bit belatedly, he wonders if there is anything on his teeth. But that thought stays in the recesses of his mind because he realizes she is grinning just as wide at him, pearly whites stark against the natural red of her lips, the angles of her face beautiful and elegant. Jungkook can feel his heart fluttering a bit, as she leans into whisper into his ear.

“I think so, yeah,” she says, lips brushing against the cuff his ear. Maybe it’s just him that feels the electricity of their proximity. Maybe it’s the both of them, but either way Jungkook finds himself, in this two-sentence conversation that they’ve just, that he likes her.

“So,” Jungkook smiles, taking a chance here, heart in his throat, pounding and fluttering so much that he can barely hear his voice. He only stares at stars that make up her eyes, at the soft curves of her face, and then he continues, “Maybe I can make it up to you by buying you breakfast when we get to Busan?”

He can see her hesitance, just by the way her eyes close, the waves of emotion in her eyes unavailable to him.

“There’s a beautiful cafe on the beach,” he cajoles. He knows that the way his eyes widen and his bunny teeth stick out that no one can resist. He doesn’t prove to be wrong.

She blinks and smiles. “Okay,” she agrees.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he remembers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been asked on a date before I got a name.”

His mouth tries to smile, before he realizes he’s smiling as wide as he can. “Was I going to get a name?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a date before without getting a name first.”

“Well, unfortunately,” she is smiling too, and Jungkook wants to see that smile as they walk on the beach, wants to remember it as he sits to the droning of people at his business meetings, wants kiss it when he gets home. “I don’t think that today is the day. I’m Y/N.”

He laughs as the plane lands in Busan; the captain’s speaking, but he cares about the way that she laughs back, the way it sounds like the tinkle of bells, the sound effect that seems to come with magic. And it is magic, when she speaks to him and his heart flutter like a giddy school girl’s. And Jungkook realizes, after breakfast, after he’s attained her number, that sometimes mornings on which you have to wake up at 3 AM without any good coffee aren’t all that bad.

#mornings without good coffee #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook scenarios #fluff #smut #angst #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #mine #jungkook fic

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bunnyblitzspookybitch · 8 years ago

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Circles

I feel like I've hit a wall. I am not moving forward, just running around and everytime i think I've made progress I'm right back where I started. I have broken it down into three areas that need improvement: Work, drinking and relationships. I need a new job but mostly i need a new career. Hairdressing isnt doing it for me. I know I enjoy it sometimes but I feel like after almost four I would have built up a better clientele. Maybe its Ms. Kim's words still haunting me. "Most people don't make it more than 3 years in this industry. If you havent figured yourself out by 5 years you never will." Those words stuck with me to the point of being terified. They used to fuel me, drive me to proove her wrong. Now its like a prediction about my future, or lack of one. Of the 23 students who took the program, I think 4 or 5 of us still work as hair stylists. I think im the only one who get left behind by Ms. Kim who is still doing hair. Everyone else she saw obvious potential in, where as I just got left struggling on my own. I was so determined to proove her wrong. Maybe if I had left Brava before now I wouldnt feel so run down. Now I'm so fucking burnt out from the abuse I get from Frank, that I can't get my shit together enough to find a new job. Stuck in a vortex of bullshit thats draining the life right out of me. This leads to the drinking, which has become a constant part of my life. I dont go more than a few days without a drink. I can come up with a thousand excuses but the only thing they all have in common is me. I am making the conscious choice to spend every dollar i spend at the bar. Its not healthy and I can't afford it. I dont want to stop though. I realized last night that I never really stopped my self destructive behavior, just switched it to something more socially acceptable. No longer using a razor blade to numb the pain and block out all the things in my head, now its just glass after glass of rum and cokes. I know its really bad when its gotten to the point where i can't stand being alone and sober because all the things Im not dealing with come flooding back to me like the gates of pain in my mind just broke. Once the storm rolls in I cant seem to get it back under controll. I end up silently convincing myself not to do something stupid like walk into traffic, everyday. I went out last night, telling only one person where I was going but knowing they wouldnt be there when I got there. I thought to myself, if I killed myself tonight nobody would know where I was untill it was too late. Its not even untill now that thoughts of Kira and the affect she had on our friends came back to me. Last night it didnt matter. Last night the one thing that has always stopped me from killing myself, my mum, didnt even cross my mind. I was in a dangerous place, i was dancing with the edge and I still havent quite backed off. I dont know what to do. This leaves us with the last of whats going on. With this sense of inability to move forward, relationships seem to lose hope. I feel there is no future for myself, giving me the feeling there is no hope of a future for me and the people I care about. It's as though ive just filled my life up with people, to treat as patches for the holes in myself. Yes friends are there to build each other up, but its not fair to have them around mostly to distract me from whats going on in my head, that I am choosing to ignore. They cant help me if they dont know whats going on. They also cant help if I dont want it. More than anything they cant help if I keep acting the way I have been, thibking that if I dont say it out load it wont be true. It is true. I am very depressed and I cant help myself anymore. I am at the end of my rope, but as far as anyone knows Ive got another fifty feet. I put on a face to hide from them whats hurting me. Now i just feel like a mask and an empty body. I will probably add to this later. But this is about as much as I can take without crying. Running around in circles beating my head against the walls. I feel like a lost cause.

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theeweatherreport · 6 years ago

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Back Slide

I am emotionally failing. Things as they are, life wise, have not been terrible. I thank god for that. However, as of late, I am consistently feeling drab. My physical health has gone down the drain along with my mental health. I can’t seem to dig myself out of this. What started as a skid has turned into a slow moving disaster. I saw it coming. I couldn’t stop it. I still can’t stop it. I feel so incredibly empty - so unfulfilled. Everything I do seems to have no meaning.

My sketch comedy group no longer brings me the joy and excitement it used to. It gives me very little fulfillment anymore. I love the people and I love the community. It’s like family. However, recently it feels like I’m in the wrong place. I’m not sure if it’s entirely one person’s fault, or if I am just feeling this way. I can’t help but feel so existentially dreadful when I am in meetings. This is the one thing that saved me from deep depression last year. Now, it’s losing its touch. I thought about quitting.

My internship has taken an abrupt turn for the worse. My boss left the company without warning, and I haven’t worked in weeks. The company is not doing well. I think I might have to leave soon. I don’t know where to go. I don’t think getting a new job would help. I feel like anything else would feel like a huge downgrade.

I’ve just been feeling like the depths of Hell. Every day is exhausting. I trudge through them like a soldier wading through a thick swamp. I was very very depressed for a little while. At this point I think I’m sad, but it’s not as bad as it was a few weeks ago. I remember I was standing in a bathroom stall just banging my head against the wall like that would trigger my brain to stop being so damn depressed. I’m not that bad right now, but I’m not much better. I fail to see the joy in existence. I don’t want to die. I want to get better. I just can’t seem to find my footing. I feel so empty inside. I feel like a hallow man. I keep repeating the same words I apologize. I don’t know how else to say it. Nothing I do brings me any sustained happiness. I am stuck. I write on this blog as if someone will see it and help me. No one is coming to save me.

It’s just me out here. I am my own worst enemy and I am the only one who can save me from him.

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aproposofthoughts · 7 years ago

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Im really tired of talking to people about my insomnia.

I'm so incredibly tired of talking about my sleep with people, wordplay absolutely intended. I've spoken at great lengths with people, as they have done with me about improving me sleep.

People don't seem to understand how much my insomnia affects me. They should for they too have felt the effects of a bad nights sleep, the weight of which bears down on you and your mood throughout the day. Perhaps still being manageable, but nonetheless a reminder of how much the bad nights sleep shook you.

I think here I must start making distinctions. The first of which is the difference between sleep disturbances and insomnia. Sleep disturbances is merely the occurence of disruptions to sleep. Waking up throughout the night, excessive amount of time to get to sleep.

I have always had sleep disturbances, in my memory is nothing but an inordinate amount of time of those times throughout the night that I would find myself awake in. I remember the endless cycle of books I would work through. Everyone else long since asleep, but I just couldn't sleep yet. I couldn't sleep because I wasn't tired. I remember waking at all the various hours in the night. The sound and silence of each hour different to the one before. I remember staring night after night into the dark. Watching the night and everything contained within twist and move as I tried to fill in the emptiness around me.

That's been with me since a time before memory, something that has been and will probably continue to be a part of me until I finally keel over in exhaustion. Insomnia however is something that's new, something that's recent (well a decade ago but close enough)

Insomnia is specifically, the impairment of daytime functioning caused by sleep distractions. It's the

I don't think I know the feeling of waking up and feeling refreshed anymore. I must have done because despite having the same sleep disturbances that affect me now, as a kid I was fine with it. I handled my weird sleep well enough that everything felt normal, nothing actually felt wrong with my sleep. But for the last decade, that once harmless sleep peculiarity has feed the insomnia. The insomnia that I can't cope with, that doesn't let me feel like I'm normal or that it's not a problem. Do you know what it's like to live a life where you never feel refreshed after a good nights sleep? Of course you don't but yet I continue to ramble. To never be able to lay down you head at night, drift off into a peaceful slumber and to have all the stresses and feelings of the day you'd carried around with you dissolve into the pillow and air around you. To never feel like yesterday quite ended. You still carry a mark of the torturous nights sleep with you, and the weight of the day before not quite lifted when you get up the next day. And the cycle of still carrying all that weight of the days and nights that have been lost upon you grinds away at you. Day to day like this and never a break in between it all. I never feel like I can get relief, I can get respite. I never feel like I can rest for next day. This is my best attempt to explain how my sleep affects me.

The thing that drains me the most is the situation that seems to happen every single time. When you've been dealing with insomnia as long as I have, you have heard every single sleep 'tip' under the moon from dozens upon dozens of people trying offer their own advice. I appreciate you trying to help, I truely do but you're telling me what I personally can do to improve my sleep. I don't seem appreciative because I'm tired of hearing the same stuff I have heard hundreds of time before.

This is where that disconnect begins. I have heard of these things parroted out out to me at any given opportunity, and then people seem annoyed that I don't seem to be listening. Why listen if I heard all this before.

I've heard it all before, and there are ones I used and continue to use which are the ones that help. There a lots of little things that help a little, I acknowledge that they help and together they improve my sleep hugely. They help maintain something I can cope with. However it's only ever just coping. All these things you parrot back to me improve things, but I'm still struggling? I utilise all that I can to give my sleep its best chance, but there are times that happen way too often when sometimes those 'tips' just aren't enough to help me cope anymore. People don't see to quite grip the concept that even though I've improved a lot of through efforts of myself. In the end though, I can still be demolished and taken out by the slightest whim of that sleeplessness.

People always seem to run through the list of these tips they have handy, and grow in frustration at me. My hollow responses of 'no it doesn't work' 'yeah that kinda helps' seem to annoy them. I picture in their mind going through this list, sure that something, surely something on this list has to be 'the one'. The one big thing to make a huge difference and I will be free forever more. They go through and hear me bark back mostly no's, only a few half committed yes's or maybe's. They then seem to resign into a blind frustration. Well he doesn't seem very enthused, or very committed. On this long list surely there must be something that helps for sure, he must not be trying hard enough, mustn't have stuck with it long enough to get a result.

I picture this going on inside everyone's heads when they talk to me about my sleep. I feel like it sounds like I'm only complaining hopelessly about my situation, not willing to put in the effort to make an improvement happen. In fact that is what I have been told what I seem like. That hurts me deeply beyond the countenance of words. To be made to feel like I'm not putting in effort in, I'm not committed to enacting a change. People don't seem to realise that I have always been fighting, always been putting in my best effort. I'm terrified at the way this affects me, I'm desperate for any solid improvement. I've been fighting all this time tooth and nail to try and be free from this. What you see from the outside is just someone who's been fighting all this time, but hasn't had a good nights sleep to feel that respite and feel refreshed. You're just seeing someone that is just very, very tired.

#thoughts #sleep #insomnia #writing

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uhhimdead · 8 years ago

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No Where To Go

I just feel so worthless all the time and I need help. Ive got no where to go and no one left to talk to because i always feel like im annoying everyone. I just want to be okay again. Ive been feeling so bad about myself for so long now. Im only 14 years old. Im not supposed to be feeling this way. Life isn't supposed to be this way. Im supposed to be on the basketball team like everyone else in my family. Im supposed to be outgoing and talk to everyone just like everyone else in my family. But i cant. I feel as if im being judged by everyone i walk past or try to talk to. Im constantly comparing myself to everyone and i dont think ill ever be loved. Ive been making myself throw up because i hate my body so much. The feeling of emptiness when i throw up is bad but it somehow feels good because i know i wont be gaining weight. But i always feel so tired afterwards. I dont want to talk to my mom because she has so much shit on her mind already. My dad is a piece of shit and none of my siblings care about me. You guys always tell me they're there for me and I appreciate that, but whenever i want to talk to you guys about my feelings i feel so bad because i know you're going through you're own shit and i dont want to bother you. I keep trying to text hotlines to help me but it just feels like im talking to a stranger that doesnt care and says the same things to everyone. I feel like no one cares even when they say they do. I feel like no one would ever care about someone like me. I dont care about myself at all. Everyday at school I want to kill myself so badly because i feel like no one likes me because im just so quiet and whenever someone tries to talk to me im the one that makes it awkward. Im the one that ends the conversation because im scared that they'll get bored of me and just leave. Everyone is so pretty and im so so ugly. No one knows who i am because im so quiet and i hate that so much. I get so scared just walking around the hallways alone or talking to adults. When i get home I criticize myself for not talking to anyone and then i just lay in my bed all day because i never have the energy to do anything. Im so tired all the time. Everyone in my house just yells. Im physically and mentally drained. Everyday i feel like giving up on myself because i feel like everyone gave up on me a long time ago. I know you guys care and im sorry im like this and im sorry i cant change. Im trying. Im bad at everything. I quit basketball because i was so afraid of failure and talking to people. Im such a disappointment to everyone and i feel bad for you guys because im just so sad all the time. I cant help it. I dont mean to be. Im just stuck. Im ugly. And when you say im pretty i just never believe you because i always just look at myself in the mirror and i hate that thats what i look like. Im screaming inside and im hoping someone will hear me, but they dont because i suck. My mind is a mess. Im a mess. Im sorry i sometimes dont know what to say when you guys arent feeling good. I feel so bad that im silent when you guys need someone. I just feel like anything i say will make you guys feel worse. Im sorry im mean sometimes. Im sorry i get mad easily sometimes. Im sorry im so awkward sometimes. Im sorry i cant say that i love you guys. I do. I just cant say it out loud and im not even sure why. I always say im ok because i dont want to add to the stress you already have. I try to hard to fix myself but its so hard and i fail every time. I keep trying so hard but i just suck. I suck at everything. The harder i try the worse it gets. Im not even good at pretending to be happy. I cant believe this is who i am. Im sorry im not getting better like we all wanted to do. Every time i think im getting better, i end up getting worse. I get worse everytime. I dont want to be like this anymore, but i feel like im in too deep to ever get out. I just don't want you guys to give up on me because if you ever did, i would give up on myself too. Im trying. I promise. You guys are very important to me and im sorry if i make you feel unimportant at times.

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yungxyari · 8 years ago

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3am thoughts....

I wanna write how I feel because its eating me up inside and when I try to express myself I get stuck First is first I messed up I wasn’t in the wrong from the beginning my birthday was great and for once I was absolutely happy not a care in the world first time in a long time. With happiness came a funny feeling for me those are never ever good when I say never I mean never bowling didn’t sound so right not after he expressed how tired he was something was off. Tuesday night is a night I’m done reliving I kinda just wished it never happened but since it did my next step is literally acting like it didn’t. Just to let it go After that night I shouldve blocked him but I didn’t I fucking didn’t block him I wanted to talk I wanted to work shit out when you love someone unconditionally shit like this tends to happen.. you just kinda sorta feel sick to your stomach giving up And this is the part where everyone gives in their opinion Why care about him if he doesn’t care about you his actions should show how he feels They probably are right but when you get to know someone you get to know them. And him I knew better then I know myself. Moving on I flipped my anxiety sucks I can’t control it it basically controls me and thats me upmost scariest feeling I have ever felt. I loose all sense of everything and im really going to try to get medication for that it fucking sucks and it basically dragged me to where I’m at the moment. Friday was hard after asking for nothing but the truth he wanted to still protect me and he lied I left work looking for nothing I shouldve went home I shouldve showered I shouldve laid down and once again BLOCKED HIM but I didn’t once again I let the anxiety the anger get the better of me. I really don’t have a valid explanation for any of my actions I swear I don’t and I don’t know what I wanted to accomplish by showing up at publix making a scene for what to drive him away even more. That isn’t the point he tried to check on me but it was already to late I was less then 500 feet from him with my heart beating almost out my chest not knowing my next move.. publix happened shit I’m not proud of another reason to apologize to C since his thing is he wants me to take responsibility.. he did me wrong asf me out of everyone he knows how I am and how I was with him and he took advantage of me of my heart and of my love and he abused it. Here everyone goes saying how can you feel that way at such a young age but me and the kid shared everything it was more of a friendship with the amount of unconditional love I believed we was throwing around… where do I continue Friday was Friday I ended up at my cousins party Lord help me that was a movie hen ciroc and beer pong how did I wake up the next day ask the devil because I don’t know I called him that night very mad at each other he answered on the first ring and I noticed I call he answers first ring second no more after that night. We talked for 21 minutes if I remember right the conversation I can’t tell you what was said but my drunken thoughts and sober words said anything and everything you can imagine. He was a dear the him I knew but better but caring but loving but supprortive things I havent seen in a while it felt good I felt good the call ended when G called me back in and 2 more shots later a bathroom converstaion occurred s/o to my girl A the first person to tell me something that makes sense not the default message I was getting from everyone because fuck him you deserve better really gets played tf out !!!!! that was over the party continued blasé blase “I’m finally in bed” text became a “good morning its work time “ text nothing too deep happened Saturday just the usual mix of emotions and feeling “I wish you were here right now” that broke my heart to pieces was the least of my worries. Saturday wasn’t bad and Sunday either I got an “I miss you” which made me feel great because fuckkkk finally I can confirm he feels the same Side note saturday I asked to b his first kiss of the year might not count for anything but it was important to me Sunday is where it began to fall not going into detail the day was good afternoon was good 7-9 was good I was out at first ignoring him but the kid just has a damn way of hoping back into my system. Spoke about fucking donuts which I was going to get delivered to him we left it at he’s taking a nap and that was it Till I got the feeling The feeling that fucks me over and shuts the reasonable part of my brain off. After this the outcome I lost my best friend I lost my keys I lost my self respect I lost my faith and hope and gained a charge Sunday Night was an eye opener well I thought it was Monday I woke up different it was good then sucked then sucked again it was great and at the end sucked even more at the end of this I stressed my mom out more then she is and lost his trust and everything Tuesday nothing really to say and Wednesday which is today but it isn’t considering its 3 am was a lot.

It went a little of both good and bad. More bad then good ofc “your picture is on my mirror but I’m going to have to take it off soon” As young as I may b I know, I know the feeling you get when you just know and I just know its kid having someone say they saw a future with u even at 17 maybe not now Mayb in 5 years maybe in 55 but that means a lot I lost him but I didn’t. And thats all ill say about it it ended sad and I could hear in his voice I’m not the only one hurting he just sucks at even showing this emotion do u love me….the reply was given basically then I love you it hasn’t sounded that way in never and click. The little details are out but this is basically what I can think of now it was about 30 minutes it was a lot.. The Instagram pictures are gone. And d is posted. I’m not even sure if giving an opinion on this is ok but b basically It feels empty I deleted the February picture and kept it moving… I started this at 2:58 am and its 3:40 and I’m still sitting here with a million and one things on my mind. School is in 4 days and I still need a week tomorrow I’m asking my mom I really need it. I need anxiety help and I need weight help just the month of December I lost 4 pounds shit is real its no longer a joke

Idk if I want help or I wanna give up, cutting ur self is super middle school, and pills are a game… tonight I’m feeling like I’m tired I’m tired of it all I don’t wanna deal with anything going on anymore and I say this with my eyes getting teary eyed I’m fucking tired honest to the god I don’t even know if belive In I’m fucking tired I wanna die I’m making my moms life harder and she already has her own shit I’m not happy I’m not motivated ion wanna do this shit anymore I’m fucking tired still havent blocked him yo sitting here thinking of what to do. Will writing it then reading it make it better?? Pills an option but the what ifs still sit. If I try it and nothing happens I’m forcing myself to keep it pushing but if anything at all happens then it was the right thing I’m sad I’m not alone but it feels like it I gotta work on things so many damn things I mean here goes nothing I think I got 2 benadryls Advil and other shit ill see what I pull out the bag for the record it was nobody fault but mine I’m just fucking tired drained and ready to give up I love u all so much always checking making sure I’m staright. I gone make this future happen if I don’t make this happen. And I dont know how u end this.. goodnight xo 54 minutes of pure feellings and my head is still going on at it.

update I woke up the next morning with a huge headache and disappointed

#jan5 #depressing thoughts #feelings #heartbreak #anxitey

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