#i'm angry today and it feels good

[likegemstone]

I spent several years so afraid that my writing might offend/hurt someone that even thinking about writing would cause intense anxiety and I simply didn't write for years. It even got to the point where I very rarely *read* anything because reading made me want to write, and that triggered anxiety.

When I finally started to write again (bc it's in my fucken DNA and I just. can't not tell stories) I had to tell myself that I was never going to let ANYONE read what I was working on, and I probably wouldn't even ever reread it myself. That was the only way I could get myself to relax enough to tell the story.

Writing/telling stories is how I have always processed and understood the world—all the messy, nuanced, confusing, painful, fucked up parts of the human experience. Stories are the only real way I've ever been able to connect to people in a meaningful way.

And for those years I wasn't writing, I honestly just wasn't processing my emotions, my experiences, my thoughts and opinions. Every confusing or painful or complex feeling or experience I had was utterly overwhelming. I slowly began to isolate myself more and more from everything because it was just too much.

In my attempt to make sure I never ever hurt anyone, I was slowly killing myself.

I have all this anger now. Anger aimed at the situations and relationships in my childhood that made me have such intense reactions to upsetting someone, at the spaces I was in leading up to this isolation that were so clique-y and judgmental and virtue signal-y that made me so convinced that any move I might make would be "problematic," and mostly at Me for letting this happen. For closing myself off and letting the world keep moving and growing while I sat there and just. rotted.

Even now that I'm writing again and even sharing my work, I catch myself sometimes watering Her Broken Magic down, to make it more palatable, less messy. I've done edits to tone down the characters' personalities to make them more "likable." And I'm pissed about that—that I've been made to feel like I have to, but also that I did it at all. HBM certainly still pushes the envelope in many ways, but it would be a much more brutal beast if I wasn't keeping its reins so taut.

It's fucking exhausting spending my life walking on eggshells. It's not sustainable. I will always be sensitive and arguably over-empathetic, I will always try to uphold my morals, be respectful and understanding, and I'll always feel awful any time I hurt someone. But I've had to accept that the only way to completely avoid hurting anyone is to not exist. To never have existed.

But I exist, and I don't want to be ashamed of that anymore.

[kittenintheden]

what if I just like. quit my job and wrote like my life depended on it. what then.

[quietlyblooms]

alrighty, friends, i feel the need to be a little transparent because it's affecting things here. the short version of everything is: i'm not doing so hot in the mental health department. no one needs to be concerned -- i'm okay even if i'm having a hard time. but i just ask that everyone continues to be patient and understanding bc i promise that i'm excited to write and chat!! both new and old mutuals, i have so much admiration for you all!! the problem is that the discomfort and sensitivity i feel are making it increasingly difficult to be punctual and social.

so what does this mean? it means my activity may continue to be extra slow. i might procrastinate with messages or go completely silent. i might not log on some days just so i don't have to use my brain. but however my presence here fluctuates, i promise that in no way this is a reflection of my feelings towards you or our muses. i'm just going through it.

all that said, thank you for being here <3 thank you for filling my dash with things that make me smile, and thank you for being a space where i can relax. i care about all of you so much, and i encourage you to be kind to yourselves!! take breaks!! take your time!! your happiness and health matter first always.

[king-of-havoc]

Sorry ur dads a loser asshole :(

Parents treat your children with human decency challenge.

Fucking literally. He makes it hard to love him. He wonders why I don't like hanging out with him alone but he can flip so fucking quickly from being okay to be an ass so I never know what to fucking expect from him

My mom literally told me he was in a good mood today but nope. That must have been short lived, and when he's in a bad mood he makes it everyone's problem 🙄

[ficoandleo]

[Please convince your violent husband to use the sensory deprivation tanks at Darkwick General instead of committing crimes against his own body. I've already wrangled permissions for him to use them freely, he just needs to show up.]

@ask-doctor-isami

He starts to type 'He's not my husband' but concludes that it's besides the point and a waste of time to say. He knows who he means.

He hasn't done anything abnormally dangerous since then, but if I think he's acting strange again I'll see what I can do

Not that that BTH listens to me. But he might consider it more if I suggest it

On the other hand the more I think about it the more I don't know if leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts is a good idea

He flies off the handle at random. He might just feel worse in there

Maybe he'll tell me why he doesn't like the idea at least

[werewolf-on-high]

Actually losing my fucking mind rn why cant anything go RIGHT

[yourdailyjormy]

Canary

It was forty years ago that the miners stood their ground To say "enough's enough" earning pennies to the pound And they held the line against the riot shields and the cops For the sake of what they needed, for what their living cost

It was dirty work but honest, or so the slogans said But the truth is all they needed was to earn their daily bread And they stood shoulder to shoulder, for all the world to see And I'm too young to know that kind of solidarity.

And I wonder after all this time If it makes it worse to know The canary in the coal mine Was when the coal mines closed

Now the cops wear body armour and they've opened up the shop They kettled kids in 2010 and now they lock them up And the armoured cars in '84 that got my mum afraid Are peanuts to the kit they bring out for the arms fairs and parades

They'll tell you Just Stop Oil and BLM are thugs Just like they did the pitsmen who were trying to keep their jobs And just like then they'll try a short, sharp shock And when it doesn't work they'll try an awful bloody lot

And I know it didn't start then But I can't quite shake the thought That the canary in the coal mine Was when the miners fought

And of course it wasn't perfect and they didn't bloody win The state that washed the lines away is the state we're living in But we should have seen it coming that it wouldn't end with strikes It was blackleg miners yesterday, today it's every fight.

We need it more than ever now, that strength of '84 To stand shoulder to shoulder for the hope of something more But we let it slip out past us in the spring of '85 And we're losing ground with every year, till protest can't survive

And I know it isn't hopeless I know the lines can hold But the canary in the coal mine Is still and dead and cold

And I wonder after all this time If there's any way to go The canary was the coal mine And the coal mines are all closed

[moe-broey]

Wait I can pinpoint the Exact place I dropped it. That's so fucking funny

[running-in-the-dark]

just now realising that it's kinda weird that every damn thing I did as a kid, even accidentally, still gets dragged out all the time as proof of how mean and bossy I was.

meanwhile one of my brothers stabbed my other brother with a screwdriver and it's just so funny. one of them jumped on my back when we were fighting and hurt me so bad that I couldn't get up for an hour (and I got yelled at). one of them broke someone else's property on purpose and it's just a funny anecdote about how he and his friend had to pay for the damage. they stole cash and very expensive alcohol, so funny and cute. they got drunk all the time and started smoking at 12.

which is all fine. people do stupid things as kids. but it sucks that I'm always the difficult one, the one that causes trouble, the mean one. the worst thing I ever did was drop out of school because I was too terrified and depressed to keep going. this is somehow proof that I was such a difficult child to raise, so hard to be around. not that my parents completely failed me in every way, or anything like that.

my brother attacked me this year. but that's totally excusable because surely he had his reasons (yeah, I disagreed with him and wouldn't back down. great.) and I probably just misunderstood (how?!) and anyway it wasn't really that bad. he yelled at me for daring to disagree with him, insulted me and then grabbed me when I told him to get out. but he's just having a hard time and can't express his feelings well and can't I just forgive him?

but I'm bad for things I did when I was 15 or 10 or 5 or literally a baby. I'm bad for things that never happened. I'm bad for things that other people did. I'm just bad.

[the-sunshine-dragon]

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[ikishima]

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[byanyan]

byan "i thought being a vampire would be sick as fuck but instead it's turned my life upside down, caused me to lose the few safety nets i actually had, and somehow given me less freedom where i thought it'd give me more" byun

[millenniumdueled]

sorry I haven't been more active on my muses lately my brain is just. not. working.

[tin-can-iron-man]

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[satanfemme]

I am so fucking tireddddd

[luckywolfsbane]

..