#i've spent 12 years hurting myself physically

[stupidg0th]

vent!!

[preciousweirdworld]

Hey guys. I've been on Tumblr for the last almost decade, probably since I was like 11 or 12. I've never actually made a post, only shared others post, but today I’ll be making my first post.

This post is a plea for help. First off, I should introduce myself. My name is Keiranique, but everyone calls me Precious. I was born with a rare deformity known as Fibular Hemimelia. This means that I was born without fibular bones in my legs. I was also born without ligaments in my left leg, so that’s means my left knee dislocates with any little movement I make.

I’ve spent my entire life in pain. I literally can’t walk or stand for more than a few minutes without experiencing excruciating pain and soreness and discomfort. The doctors in my country (The Bahamas) have never been able to provide a concrete treatment plan to straighten my leg, most have given up entirely. My case was too complex for them.

I had to seek help abroad. After years of tirelessly searching, I finally found an Orthopedic surgery center that can help me. The problem is that my surgery cost hundreds of thousands of dollars I simply do not have.

This surgery is a life-changing operation and my life literally depends on it. Because of my limited mobility, I have been left out of so many things. There are so many places and activities that aren’t accessible to me because of my disability.

It hurts so much to always be left behind and out of stuff. I feel so sad and lonely all the time. For years I have struggled with depression and anxiety and suicidal thoughts. Unfortunately, my mental health has only gotten worse over the years.

I started a GoFundMe campaign a few weeks ago, and sadly I’ve only received a few donations (which I am very grateful for). I thought more people would donate to help me, but sadly, that hasn’t been the case.

So guys, I pleading for any donations and help. Even if you are able to donate, it’s okay, you can share this post so that it can reach more people.

I’ll attach a video of me willingly dislocating my leg to validate my claims. I’ll also include a picture of my most recent X-Ray.

Guys, I’m really going through it mentally and physically. I don’t know how much longer I can go like this. This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been, so please be nice and no negative comments.

Please help in any way you can.

I need all the help I can get.

TRIGGER WARNING

[sunflowerabyss]

Crescent Resurgence

Pairings: Older!Remus Lupin x Reader

Bitten by Remus Lupin after an attempt to comfort him many years ago, you are left to navigate the challenges of lycanthropy alone. The resurgence of Voldemort brings you back together in the Order of the Phoenix, forcing Remus to seek redemption after all those years.

Warning: Angst. Slight comfort?

____________________________________________________

The night hung heavy with the weight of secrets and regrets as the moon cast its silvery glow over Grimmauld Place. For fifteen years, Y/N had lived in the shadows, mastering the art of solitude and survival. The scars, both physical and emotional, bore witness to a life shaped by the bite of a werewolf, and the absence of the one who had inflicted the wound.

The transformation was always a dance with pain, but that fateful night, a month after the tragic events that had torn apart their world, it became a brutal confrontation with the demons that lingered within Remus Lupin. Y/N, in her panther form, had watched over him, determined to be the support he so desperately needed. Yet, the trauma of loss had rendered him careless and hostile. In a moment of unbridled aggression, he bit her, causing her panther form to shift back into a vulnerable human.

Acceptance of death had washed over Y/N as she slipped into unconsciousness that night, only to awaken the next morning in a haze of agony. Survival instincts kicked in, and she learned to navigate the torment of lycanthropy on her own, crafting a modified Wolfsbane potion that not only eased the pain but hastened the healing process.

The rage within her burned like an eternal flame, fueled not only by the pain of the bite but by Remus's inexplicable disappearance. He was a ghost, a memory, and for years, Y/N wrestled with the love that refused to fade and the fury that refused to be silenced.

The Order of the Phoenix, in its desperate search for allies, found Y/N. Moody tracked her down, relentless in his pursuit of warriors. Driven by a desire for revenge for the friends she had lost, Y/N agreed to join the cause. The journey led her back to Grimmauld Place 12, a place steeped in memories both bitter and sweet.

Sirius Black, alive and well, greeted her with open arms. The warmth of his embrace contrasted sharply with the chill that swept through her when she saw him – Remus Lupin. More scars adorned his tired face, his hair graying, and a visible weariness etched into his being. He was a reflection of the years they had spent apart, the years of silence that screamed louder than words.

The meeting began, a gathering of familiar faces and strangers bound by a common enemy. Harry Potter, the spitting image of his parents, entered the room, and Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the echoes of a past that seemed simultaneously distant and achingly close.

As the meeting concluded, Y/N made a swift exit, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions. The night air offered a temporary reprieve, but Remus followed her outside. The tension between them crackled like electricity as words, long unspoken, spilled into the air.

"You left without a word," Y/N accused, her voice steady but laden with years of hurt.

Remus, a shadow of his former self, nodded solemnly. "I couldn't face you. I couldn't face what I had done to you."

The confrontation escalated, a whirlwind of accusations and admissions. Remus, burdened by guilt, conceded to the pain he had caused. Y/N, refusing to be swayed by words alone, stood her ground, her heart torn between love and resentment.

"I will never forgive myself for the pain I've caused you," Remus confessed, his eyes reflecting the depth of his remorse.

A heavy silence hung between them before Y/N, her voice edged with sorrow, admitted, "I loved you. I never wanted to be apart."

The admission hung in the air, a fragile bridge between past wounds and uncertain futures. Remus, understanding the gravity of his sins, asked the question that loomed over them both. "Do you still love me?"

The answer, honest and raw, escaped Y/N's lips: "I don't know."

A nod passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the fractures that time had failed to heal. Remus bid her goodnight, his figure disappearing into the shadows of Grimmauld Place.

_______________________________________________________

Weeks passed since that night and Y/N found herself standing alone in the courtyard of Grimmauld Place, a burdensome storm of emotions raging within her. The confrontation with Remus reverberated through her mind, and the weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on her chest. Sirius emerged from the dimly lit entrance, concern etched on his face as he approached her.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and empathetic. "I know that seeing Remus again is difficult. He's been through a lot, and so have you."

She looked at Sirius, gratitude flickering in her eyes. "It's just… it's been so long, and I thought I had moved on, but seeing him again brought back everything."

Sirius placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now. Give yourself time."

Feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness, Y/N nodded. She retreated to a quiet corner of the courtyard, taking deep breaths to steady her racing heart. The night air was cool, but the turmoil within her was hotter than any flame. It was a blend of love, resentment, and the jagged edges of memories that had never quite faded.

As she stood there lost in thought, Remus emerged from the shadows, his footsteps hesitant. He approached her, his eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. Y/N steeled herself, preparing for another round of the emotional storm that seemed to follow him.

"I… I know I hurt you," Remus began, his voice filled with regret. "I can't change the past, but I want to make things right. If that means staying away, I'll do it. I just… I can't bear to see you in pain because of me."

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes a mixture of sadness and determination. "Remus, you don't get to decide what's right for me anymore. I've spent years learning to live with the consequences of your actions, and I've become stronger despite it all."

He sighed, a heavy acknowledgment of the truth in her words. "I never meant to leave you alone, to make you bear this burden on your own."

"And yet you did," Y/N replied, her voice firm. "You left without a word, and I had to learn to survive without you."

Remus ran a hand through his graying hair, a gesture of frustration and remorse. "I understand if you can't forgive me. I don't deserve it."

The air was thick with tension as Y/N considered his words. "Forgiveness is a process, Remus. It's not something that happens overnight. I need time to figure out what this means for both of us."

He nodded, a silent acceptance of the reality they faced. "I just want you to know that I never stopped caring about you."

Y/N looked away, a mixture of sadness and longing in her eyes. "Caring is not enough, Remus. I needed you to be there for me, and you weren't."

The conversation lingered, suspended in the night air like the unspoken words between them. Eventually, Y/N turned away, her resolve unwavering. "I need some time alone. Don't follow me."

Remus watched her retreating figure, a heavy heart filled with remorse. The courtyard remained silent, shadows playing on the stone walls, as both Y/N and Remus grappled with the ghosts of their shared past.

Days turned into nights, and Y/N navigated the war-torn world with a heart heavy with conflicting emotions. The Order of the Phoenix, bound by a common purpose, continued their fight against Voldemort's forces.

One day, as she stood by the fireplace at Grimmauld Place, watching the flickering flames dance, Remus approached her. The lines on his face spoke of battles fought, both internal and external.

"Y/N," he said quietly, his gaze searching hers. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said. I understand that I can't change the past, but I want to be there for you now. If you'll let me."

The room fell silent as Y/N considered his words. She saw sincerity in his eyes, a glimmer of the Remus she had once known. The wounds of the past still lingered, but perhaps, in the midst of the war, there was room for healing and reconciliation.

[bytchysylvy]

ART VS ARTIST 2023 + yet another reflection

tw ed recovery

I dont know when I developed an eating disorder since it feels like its always been there, having off and on symptoms in childhood and in my teen years, but it wasnt until about 2017 where I started engaging in complete restriction. For years I've dealt with health problems that my doctors could never figure out the cause of, never looking into my eating habits (in fairness, I wouldn't have been honest at the time). I pseudo-recovered in 2020, where suddenly so many of my problems vanished nearly overnight. But then relapsed very hard in 2022, I spent the next few months basically being dead let alone making art. By january I could barely stand yet was told "we dont have to do anything about it". In feburary after failing to find treatment I decided to recover on my own and gave myself refeeding syndrome, avoiding hospitalization by accidentally misleading the er about the treatment I was receiving (which was none). In march my therapist reached out to an eating disorder clinic and by april I was in treatment. From then until the end of october has been a mix of php and iop treatment, having to take residency in seattle for awhile at one point. I've gone down to regular outpatient, things have gotten rocky again but at least I'm not where I was a year ago and will never be back at square one again.

I was really reluctant to do one of these art vs artist things despite wanting to for awhile now since I gained 50% of my initial body weight since the start of the year and have never been so self conscious about my appearance; I had to change my entire wardrobe, hurts man. But rehimboification gave me my ability to make art back and ive since made too many bangers to pick my top eight from. I did four sets of the cast, 30+ pages of comics, and returned to animation. ACT 1 is in its last third of work, ACT 2 is about a third done. I've picked up sewing (you can see the flag i made in the background) and plan to garden once its the season to do so. Im in an infinitely healthier place now both physically and mentally. My only regret is not getting help sooner and hurting myself this badly in the first place.

I'm thankful for what this year has given me back, but with being in therapy 12-30 hours a week while being in and out of work, I'm tired. I'm glad that this year of my life is over.

[ahiddenpath]

Life Update

Life chat beneath the cut. I feel like this one is a bit on the whiney complainy side, but it is where I am now, so I'm keeping it for posterity, lol! But don't read if you're not down for some whine and cheese xD

So I took the last week off from work. I was frustrated, because I didn't go anywhere- it was a staycation. We opted for that mostly because I was going to lose my gd mind if I didn't get some time off. I get 3 weeks off per year, plus a week closure around Christmas "made of" federal holidays that we do not get, so I try to optimize my time off. But... I didn't have the brain space to do anything, and also, as I tried to plan things... Holy damn, everything is so much more expensive than it was even like three years ago.

But now I'm further frustrated because I spent the vast majority of the week just doing damned chores and household projects. Like, I told myself I would stop doing any chores yesterday, but I still spent until 2 PM exercising and doing "a few quick things." The same thing happened today. I'm kind of in, like, a horrible sort of awe of how long shit takes, man. For example, it took my husband and I about 2 hr to take down a broken ceiling fan that was 30 years old and not very user friendly and replace it with a new one. It took me an hour with a hair drier and a scraper to remove like 2.5 cm of hot glue from a doll's head (holding her removable eyes in place) so I could send her out to be painted. And I spent 40-90 min outside for like 8-12 days weeding and doing some basic yard work to prep for a mulch delivery.

I'm trying to be more fit recently. I am, ah. A very unfit human. I think I somehow have not mentioned this in the 12 years of this blog, but... I've had a million surgeries on my hip and spent roughly age 6 months to 2 yrs in a body cast, then until roughly age 4 in physical therapy to learn to move around. I'm clumsy and can just, like, fall over unprompted, I assume because of all that. I don't have the full range of movement in my lower body, so doing physical things can be... Really daunting. I always put exercise and mobility training off.

And of course, it's starting to bite my ass, lmao. I recently learned that humans begin losing muscle mass in their 30s, meaning that weight training is essential. I also learned that using a machine to exercise (like an elliptical) is only good for cardiovascular health. The machine takes on a lot of the... strain?? Work?? Of moving, meaning you aren't working your body in the same way as when you just... Walk. It's meant to help you work out longer, so you can develop your cardiovascular system. (Incidentally, this is why walking and hiking are great exercise).

That's why I took on a lot of the gardening/yard work. I did clear out all of the weeds! And the way my soreness decreased over the days means that I did something good for my body.

But, like. The amount of time caring for your body takes is absolutely gobsmackingly unreal. Holy shit god damn! I've always struggled to keep the balls of work, mental health, creativity, physical health, and social health in the air, not touching on chores and stuff. The physical ball is the one I always put down first.

But I only get this one body, and the American healthcare system is a nightmare. So... Yeah, the priorities need to shift here. My foot has been hurting for a few weeks, now, and it happened last year after Japan, too. It's time to actually go to the doctor for that.

I am sensing more and more that I need to give less to work, too. That's difficult for someone like me to do, because I always feel a deep need to do my best with everything. But... Working this hard just isn't sustainable, and it isn't as if I'm rewarded over someone in the same position who does less.

I haven't had much of an opportunity to rest or do anything creative this week, despite being off. And I'm just as distressed by the fact that um... Just being gone at work from 8:20 AM-5:50 PM every day makes it impossible to do the tasks that built up over the last 3-4 years of being in this home. You know, sometimes people tell me, "But what would you do if you didn't have a job? I'd go crazy!" And I'm like- DUDE. DUDE! I could exercise, walk, work on house projects, and do chores all day every day for like three years and still have stuff to do! That doesn't even touch the personal projects and hobbies I want to work on.

Hopefully, I can figure out some kind of balance that works for me and is healthy. I wish you all the best, my dears <3

[blondiest]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @ashleyfanfic !

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

21 on neallo, 5 on blondiest

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

212k: 121k on neallo + 91k on blondiest

3. What fandoms do you write for?

death note and (allegedly) stranger things

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

i'm going to exclude my stranger things ones or i will only have one death note fic listed lol.

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

hot soup on a cold day

i want to hold you (hostage)

engaged

there's nothing i want but you

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

on neallo, yes. every single one. i reply bc it's a nice way to connect with the readers :-) i am really really behind on blondiest comments but there are also fewer since it's been so long since i updated anything 😭

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably nothing hurts like you do, though idk if that counts bc it's a prequel to holdyouhostage. shot in the dark has a not-happy ending, but it's meant to be very open-ended.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmmm!!! most of my fics have happy endings, to be honest. i think i would perhaps say it's you and me, that's my whole world bc that's my most indulgently hurtcomfort story 🥰

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have! but only on one occasion (though it was a decent number of comments). i was told that i was an example of why modern fans can't write mello and near lmfao (<- was into death note in 2008. if i suck at writing them, i come by it honestly 😇)

9. Do you write smut. If so, what kind?

hehe. yes. i have written a pretty good variety of types of smut. i tried listing out the various acts here and then was like... let me not do this to myself. “what kind” ? hopefully the kind that is at least kinda hot 💋

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no not really! i wouldn't rule it out but i've never had an idea for one. i did once write a fic loosely based on ‘this is just to say’ by william carlos williams, but it is not on neallo or blondiest and isn't for a fandom i have posted about on here.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

lmfao yeah, very recently

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! i had a very short fic translated into french on the aforementioned mystery account lol

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

yes!!! voted most likely is a collaboration with my darling friend dee, and i have several fics with the beloved @empressofthewind

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

meronia. it hit me so violently and has not let go for a full year. it's so over for me forever

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

hmmmm. honestly, i have my doubts about finishing voted most likely, sadly. i feel like the major, real conflicts were already solved, and the plans i had for the rest of the plot feel very drawn out now. i just want to let them be happy immediately lol. maybe i need to brainstorm a new ending 😔

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think my dialogue skills are pretty strong :-)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i am not, i don't think, particularly strong at descriptions of locations or of physical appearances lol

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i prefer to have it in english and italics rather than including actual full phrases from the other language, bc i don't want to fuck up the grammar in another language and i also don't want to confuse readers. occasionally i will use individual words from another language (ingerasul meu lol), but i try to always provide in-text cues for what it is being said.

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

lmfao...................... time princess

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

oh god. i want to hold you (hostage), hands down. it's not close. i spent so much time on that story, and i became very fond of it.

i am soooooooo sleepy so i'm doing the lazy bitch thing and saying that if you see this you should consider yourself tagged 💋

[mementofloreo-archived]

An Update/Happy New Years Letter from Toby!!

hi folks, here's a catchup post from yours truly! it's a bit long so i've put it under a readmore, but there's nothing too serious under there, it really is just a life update of the same sort I try to write every new year!

sorry for not being around lately! i've been having a pretty bad chronic pain flareup and have been kinda sick.

a while back my cat- who is a nasty little escape artist and very naughty boy!!- managed to get outside the house. it was on an evening when it would later get into the single digits.

milo's very important to me, and we live right next to a highway now, so every time he does this it's stressful. when he wasn't back home by around ten pm(despite each of us periodically going to check and call for him) I got pretty desperate. it was so cold out, and i felt distraught just thinking about him possibly getting sick or hurt or worse out there somewhere when it was 12 degrees and getting colder.

In the end I was wandering around calling for him out there for about half an hour, and then spent half an hour sitting on the patio with my phone and calling for him periodically. I knew spending so much time in the cold would make me really sick bc I've always been frail and highly sensitive to the cold dry of winter, so i have myself to blame for that.

i had to leave a blanket out for milo in the end bc it was getting hard to breathe; he did finally come home a little later and i found him on his blankie close to midnight. he was calm and not shivering or seeming sick, so he must have found somewhere pretty safe to hang out before coming and staying warm on the porch. he was VERY hungry and thirsty when he came inside but he's remained healthy since and in good spirits, so I'm fine with being sick. he's my baby and I would rather get a cold working to get him home than have him not come home at all, or let him get hurt or sick.

storytime aside, it's just a time of year when I tend to struggle a lot more with my emotional and mental health. my family has suffered through a lot of tragedies that took place around this time and it's also the worst time for my seasonal affective disorder. so on top of my physical health being worst in winter, so is all my other health. ongoing shortages of several different medications(mostly for adhd and similar symptoms) in my area mean that I am also without my adderall or concerta and haven't had reliable access since about november. I don't function at nearly even ten percent without them, so that has also been a big factor.

to my new mutuals, I'm sorry I haven't been around! I hope we can finally start chatting and plotting soon, because I truly do want to get to know you and see what clicks for us as writers.

and to my friends and other mutuals, thank you as always for your patience with my spotty activity and for still being sociable with and happy to hear from me even when I'm not feeling able to write. you're more precious to me(every one of you!!) than I can adequately express.

since the start of 2020, my life and my family's lives have all been very difficult, fraught with hardships of all different sorts and a lot of chaotic and unpredictable change. the divorce and eventual remarriage of one of my brothers; my mom and i moving out to live with her sister in the first months of 2020 in a last ditch effort to drive my dad to finally really address his drinking problem(he is now over a year sober!!!)

and then of course my mom getting sick that may,

and then never getting better.

and then we found out that she never would. she has chronic fatigue syndrome now, and issues with low blood pressure and breathing. the family home we'd lived in since I was just a little kid was old old old and we found out eventually that she had new mold allergies. as our savings dried up and we finally managed to sell and move out at the end of 2021, I knew '22 would be harrowing.

and it was. it was awful. from the end of january to the end of august I lived in the spare room at my brother's home, unsure what would happen from one day to the next, how long i would be there.

since early september my parents and i have been slowly settling into a double wide mobile home we were(by the grace of luck and higher powers) able to purchase rather than simply rent, when we had thought initially it would be difficult to even find an apartment that would meet mom's needs and be withing our range.

but we finally have some stability and peace of mind in our lives again. and I hope that will bode well for the rest of this year.

I don't know how soon I'll be consistently active here on the dashboard again, but I do want to try, even if it ends up a slow process. happy new year to all of you, and i dearly hope you will see more of me as it goes on.

-Toby

[tox-talks]

Coliseum traumatized me a few years ago and I've never been able to do it since, not that I can physically do it without hurting myself anyway. I spent 12 hours straight clicking during a bout of hyperfixation trying to get carpenter bees (or whichever bees the purple ones are), did not get the bees, and gave myself lifelong cubital tunnel and neuropathy in my hand. Clicking like that for any length of time aggravates it now and causes pain. I can't do coli anymore. That's why my dragons are always starving lmao. Gathering turns don't really do much for me.

It's also why I ask for food so often, because short of buying it, which I can't afford, I have a hard time keeping my dragons fed.

Thinking of reducing the number of dragons I have, but I'm not sure.

(if you want to donate to the food cause, my UN is toxictoxophilite)

[diaryofnathanxu314]

Another Vent (?

Before the dawn of tomorrow, a day on which I shall be absent due to my impending journey to Alubihid for the camp, I must confess a dread that weighs heavily on my soul. Truly, the shadows of fear grip me, for I ought never to have come here—especially with him lurking like a specter in the midst. His very presence sends shivers cascading down my spine, stirring a turmoil within me. I abhor every moment spent in this place, yearning instead for the comforting embrace of home. Yet, here I stand, bound by the chains of academics, compelled to partake in this encampment lest I forfeit my progression to Grade 12. Moreover, it stands as both a necessary clearance and a physical education requirement—a dual burden that I bear with great reluctance.

So here's the tea: it all started in Grade 10 when I decided to dip my toes into the whole school camping scene for the first time. The first night was pretty uneventful, so let's fast-forward to the next day. There was this guy, who used to be my crush back then. Let's call him JP. Everything was smooth sailing until the tail end of the camp.

Picture this: I'm in the restroom changing clothes, and out of nowhere, JP flung the door open. There I was, mid-outfit swap, absolutely mortified. Seriously, the last thing I wanted was for him to catch a glimpse of me at my most vulnerable. I felt like crawling into a hole.

However as I soaked up those vacation days before starting 11th grade, it hit me how much his behavior was like a dark cloud from my past, one that still messes with me emotionally. It reminded me of this awful time in fifth grade when my classmates sexually harassed me. Just the way he barged in while I was changing—it brought it all back. That's when I really start to fall apart inside, with each passing day chipping away at my peace of mind. It's like I'm coming undone, thread by thread. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my first day back in 11th grade hit me like a ton of bricks—I found out he's still in my class, of all the luck. Then, to top it off, at this year's camp, when I checked the room assignments, there he was, listed right next to me, in the same room. Give me a break. It feels like I'm just setting myself up for him to hurt me all over again. As if I'm not messed up enough already, why does he have to be in the same room with me?

And as much as I hate to say it, I spent hours crying in the school bathroom. I had to tuck myself away from the crowd. God forbid anyone sees me and I end up embarrassed. Now, with it being so early in the morning (around 2 am) I ought to be extra cautious lest he ruin my life once more, like the one he dealt me last year. And it really gets under my skin that he's moved on while I've been left to lug around this heavy trauma for a whole year. Each day comes by and my sanity is going lower and lower and I don't even know how long can I hold on. And what hurts even more is that back in tenth grade, I had a huge crush on him. I was totally drawn in by his enigmatic vibe, his charm, and his smarts. He's like the devil dressed up in charisma.

It's all my fault I'm messed up hahahaha It's all my fault that it lead me to this, the unhinged vengeful guy seeking revenge Now, all that's left is an empty shell of a shattered soul, my sanity reduced to nihility. I've lost touch with who I used to be; if I looked in the mirror now, I'd probably see nothing but a vindictive madman staring back.

[autisticbee]

coming to terms with having faced/is facing mental+emotional abuse can be so difficult. I've spent so much time wondering if I'm exaggerating it or making it up in my head or maybe that's just how parents are supposed to be, how would I know any different?

My mother fought for my autism diagnosis, she buys me things, sometimes we get along and laugh and smile with each other. And in those moments I wonder if I'm being ungrateful, if I'm wrong

And then she'll flip on me over something small, turn something into a argument for the millionth time & then blame me saying I'm the one who did it, she'll leave me in tears & won't care & yet if anything I say/upsets her she'll go on about how I never show anything towards her (I've told her many times, that I express my feelings in things such as sharing my special interests, that when I want her to watch a episode of my fave thing or listen to me ramble about something, that's my way of connecting. she doesn't care. & Yet I have to listen to her describe every detail of whatever show she watches, knowing I won't get the same consideration.). She guilt trips me because I don't hug her & don't like touch, even though I've explained how it physically hurts me to do

She tells me she'll die one day because of me, and that she hopes she does. she's legally my carer but if I rely on her as such then I'm selfish, lazy

She took me out of school when I was nine years old, she acts as though this was for my benefit. My favorite teacher left and they didn't give the proper one on one time to me. She becomes my teacher, except there are many things she doesn't know. I learn to finally tell the time but I don't make much progress in math. To this day I don't understand it beyond basic times tables. I feel I missed out, that most people understand something I never can.

When was younger, under 12, I wanted to be friends with the kids who lived in my area. I was bullied, in a way I didn't really grasp at the time. When the kids told me to wait outside for them and that I'd be back soon I believed them, as I stood out there for ages. When I was in the backyard of my so-called friends at the time, one of them pulled a carving knife on me. He chased me around the garden and I thought I was going to die, his mother stood in the doorway and told me he wouldn't hurt me with it.

When I talk about the impact these things on me, how it hurt to be socially rejected & how lonely it was to not really have any friends (up until I met my best friend, lex ily 🫶🏻), my mother blames me. She says it's because my voice is monotone, that I never 'gave' anything because I never wanted to be the leader. She says it's better I ended up with one good friend, dismisses how I felt in the past despite how that played a part in me feeling suicidal at eleven years old

I don't really have a end point to this. I just think I needed to get it off my chest. I'm tired of waking up & feeling in a good mood only to have it completely destroyed by my mother not long after. I'm so tired of never knowing what will make her angry. I hate being in this house. When I briefly leave to pop to the shops I feel at ease. I wish I could leave. I wish I wasn't reliant on her as a disabled person.

It sounds awful, but some days I long for the day she dies. I know my life will be turned upside down. I know I will feel mournful as well as relieved. I know I will lose my entire blood 'family' because the moment she's gone I will live as who I really am, and they'll cut me off. And yet... nothing keeps going more, than the hope of one day being able to openly live as myself, away from this religious cult & away from all these people I can't stand but am forced to put up with because of blood ties

I hope my future will be better

[lost-girl-trying-find-her-way]

4/01/24

How do you deal with the constant memories. The trauma of being an abused child. The DV relationships that have left you with trust issues, overthinking, debt, self worth being at its lowest. The trauma of the system that is supposed to protect you as child and failed uses that against you with your own when you know your not threat or harm to them at all.

The flash backs of that knife stabbed into the top of the stairs, and being corned into the door as small as you can to avoid being hurt, the years of being told you look like your mother and they hate you just for that. The bruises the scars that come with it. The pain from your own siblings physically assaulting you every day down your spine because that's what they knew hurt you. Your own siblings acting as though they got the worse of it when in reality they never did.

I wasn't innocent i fought back and made it worse. I've spent my whole life living in fight or flight mode and I don't know how to get out of it. I love my family to pieces and most of that trauma is shut out but when every now and then the unconscious version of myself is active and kicking around and them memories slip out of that closed and padlocked space in the back of my mind and I wake up in the middle of the night when I'm not working or through the day when I've only had 3 hours sleep from a 12 hour shift alone and I'm panicking, crying and praying someone will just come in and just give me a hug to tell me everything is okay and I'm not in that place anymore.

Working 12 hour night shifts so you can avoid sleeping, working so much your exhausted only to feel like your never at home your with other people's family just to escape from your demons.

How do you tell the person who saved you 2 years ago about all the trauma you have stored away when they have their own too and you don't want to feel a burden to them because your in the healthiest relationship you've ever been in :(

[one-abuse-survivor]

hey there ! anon with the abusive sister here. hope you're doing okay ! (if i've already sent in an ask pls ignore the last one—my memory is super bad rn and i cant really remember if i did or not-)

thank you so much for your kind words !! september went really well and she didn't show up ! i was a bit stressed, and did spend the first two days feeling incredibly sick from stomach cramps. on the bright side, i invited my friend down and spoke to her and her mum about the trauma and they both said that it sounds like i have ptsd (i trust them both on their opinions because my friend has ptsd from something in her childhood that affected her really badly, so she has first-hand experience about living with ptsd). they both suggested that i go to therapy, which i think my parents are warming up to, but we're all concerned about social services getting involved. we've had negative experiences with social services before, and we dont want them making a fuss of things. we're also worried that i might not be believed or that it will get downplayed as 'sibling rivalry.' although, sometimes my parents backtrack and downplay it themselves and say that it 'wasnt that bad' which really, really hurts. i've given up trying to explain how her abuse affected me and i dont really talk about it with my parents anymore, since my mum always brings up something from her childhood which was worse. sometimes i start to wonder if im making it all up for attention, and that my hatred towards her is distorting things...then i remember my lack of memories, a particular event when i was around 12/13 that terrified me, and a mental breakdown i had in the school locker room, in the middle of the day, because of the gaslighting text messages she sent me.

my sister's been causing trouble recently because it was my birthday in early december (the only birthday i can remember was last year's and the year before—i cut her off three months before that first birthday i can remember) and then it was christmas, so she wanted presents. she also changed her name to her birth father's name (we have separate dads, thank god) which upset my mum quite a lot. it didnt help that my mum's side of the family spent christmas together and never invited us down, which sucked and made us realise that, to them, my parents and i aren't very important to my toxic family members. i got over that pretty quickly, though.

i do have a question: how do i comfort myself when im triggered/feeling sad or overwhelmed from the abuse? my dog and rabbit died within three months of each other, and they were my main sources of comfort whenever things got too much or mental illness was too bad. now that they're gone, though, im finding myself feeling quite disconnected from reality—especially now that my rabbit is gone. everything seems more overwhelming then it did before. im not sleeping well, or im sleeping too much (either way im still exhausted when i get up) and i seem to be getting triggered more and more by physical touch and sounds.

thank you so much in advance !! have a nice day :D

Hi again! ❤️

I'm really glad your sister didn't show up during September after all, and really glad you had people around you who were understanding about your trauma.

I'm sorry your parents haven't been as supportive as they should be, though. It's awful that they try to downplay your abuse and tell you they went through worse. If your mum had experiences she considers "worse" than yours, then she should go to therapy herself so she can talk about them, and not use them to downplay your own experiences. Trauma isn't a competition, and what matters isn't who had it "worse". What matters is what each individual person needs so they can be safe and eventually heal and/or learn to live with their trauma. I'm glad you have proof of your sister's abuse that you can resort to when doubt starts creeping in. But just in case you need to hear it: no, you are not making anything up for attention. Your sister abused you.

Ugh, it sucks that she caused trouble again during Christmas and your birthday. It's great that you got over all of it quickly, but you shouldn't have to put up with her or any toxic family member's crap.

Also, I'm really sorry for your loss :( It's always hard to lose a pet, but I can't imagine how devastating it must be when they were your main source of comfort when triggered.

Here is a list of healthy coping skills you can check out. Since your pets used to help you, maybe you can try soothing yourself through touch, like using stuffed toys, blankets or soft clothes. They might have the same effect as holding your pets close did. Smells can also be very helpful; have you got any blankets that smell like them? Are there any other smells in general that you like and that you can carry around with you?

Something that can also help is to make an easily accessible list of things that soothe you as you find them. You can make it (and update it) when you're feeling fine, and that way, you'll be able to look at it when you get triggered and you won't have to come up with ways to soothe yourself when you're already in that state of emotional distress.

Alongside the list, you can even have an emergency box filled with things that bring you comfort, like soft toys, fidget toys, things that smell nice, or anything else you can think of that might distract you or make you feel better. When I made mine, I filled it with sticker sheets because stickers soothe me, and also with lists of all my comfort shows, movies and videogames.

Other than that, have you considered adopting another pet? It' might not be a possibility, but if it is, I think it could really help, since you already know that being near animals when you're triggered helps you calm down.

Hope some of this helps, and hope you're doing well. Sending a big virtual hug ❤

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

A rough accounting of what has happened since last weekend:

Had a slight sore throat but tested negative, so I still drove ~6 hours out of state to see family with Spouse

Did a couple things with Spouse's family while mostly masked/outside and then went back to the hotel

Woke up completely out of it and Bad on Sunday; I stayed in the hotel while Spouse spent time with family

Fire alarm goes off sometime in the late afternoon-ish. I ignore the first shorter run. Second time it goes off long enough that I realize that it's not a test and throw on my shoes and grab my bag and head out to the parking lot in my pajamas.

Turns out the hotel was on fire??

But like only a little bit

I couldn't see any smoke during my slow lap around the building, but that doesn't mean much

Basically every other person there is a 25 - 50 year old man, which makes the fact that I'm not wearing a bra more awkward than it strictly needed to be

Some guy runs up to another group of guys and asks "this motherfucker on fire?" This is greeted with laughter but no answers.

An hour and ten fire trucks/cop cars later, we're cleared to reenter the hotel

Smells kinda smoky but I really can't otherwise tell that there was a fire so that's good I guess

Also did I mention that this hotel doubled as a trucking school?

Seriously one of the most liminal places I've been in a hot minute, not helped by being deliriously sick and out of it

I go to lay back down and realize by now it's dinner time and I desperately need food

I order some soup and go on a delirious ten minute drive for this food

The food tastes weird, but it's hot so it's fine enough I guess

Spouse brings home Covid tests he's been randomly gifted by his family

The next morning I test myself since hey - we have tests and it never hurts to be safe than sorry even though it came up negative a day and a half ago

And

It

Comes

Up

Positive

So now, I'm in another state with a ~6 hour drive home, Major Work Things the scheduled the next two days, and now I'm tamei for Covid

(Spouse tests negative for Covid miraculously, and so far is asymptomatic)

(We skip out on the goodbyes with his family anyway though and hit the road)

It takes us 11 1/2 hours to make this normally 6 hour drive home, because I keep having to stop to set up work-related coverage

My driving is mostly okay but this is the loopiest I've been driving in a hot minute

(Spouse doesn't drive, so I am the only driver unfortunately)

We get home stupid late, and I collapse into bed only to get up very early the next day and proceed to work 6+ hours for coverage reasons.

I manage to work slightly less on Tuesday, which is good, because by that point I physically cannot stay awake for more than an few hours at a time and can barely talk.

Spouse is also now very obviously sick

Wednesday I sleep

Thursday I sleep

Friday daytime I sleep

I bring in Shabbat on time, and then proceed to fall asleep at 9:00 p.m. and sleep until 12:30 p.m. on Saturday

Sunday - well, after I got up on Saturday I managed to stay awake 14 whole hours! But I'm still sick as hell. Spouse is also still very sick, and both of us retested positive as of Friday afternoon. We'll see what the rest of Sunday holds I guess.

So anyway, time is fake, last weekend feels like a year ago, and some things are better not smelled or tasted whilst sick anyway.

[wildwood-faun]

See you in Liverpool or: traditional sailing in 2021

So this has taken a while. Everything has been very all the time all the time ever since I came back on shore which. Is a different kind of all the time all the time than the one you get at sea.

For those who aren't sure what this is about, this summer I had the opportunity to spend two weeks as a deckhand on the Swedish ship Götheborg, a replica of an East Indiaman that sank outside her home harbour Gothenburg in 1745, coming back from her third voyage. (And THAT is a story of a remarkably well controlled running aground that all sailors and a lot of the cargo survived - evidence points to insurance fraud which is just. A Delight.)

The modern Götheborg was launched in 2003 and went on her maiden voyage in 2005. Today she is the largest ocean-going wooden sailing ship in the world. And I love her.

Prep

Before our voyage, the old lady hadn't been out at sea for six years and while preparations had been underway for some time, there was still a lot left to do so we spent the first few days at pier, readying the running rigging, preparing sails and carrying things aboard. The 250 square metre (that's almost 2700 square feet!) main topsail was. A challenge. Half a ton of linen is very comfy right here and does not need to be moved thank you very much. It was kept up on a loft accessible by a narrow spiral staircase and a very optimistic watch leader first had us try to carry it down said staircase. That. Didn't work. Luckily there was a winch solution that allowed us to get it down and let us get used to carrying the thing on even ground before we had to bring it on the ship.

Putting everything together was at times very confusing and I think my least favourite thing was being given a long list of instructions, to be carried out at the top of the rigging. I was all right with the climbing (though there were scary moments) but I cannot for the life of me carry a list of verbal instructions in my head. Luckily that ordeal mostly characterised one day in particular or my overall experience might have been less overwhelmingly positive.

At sea

Once we were at sea, we went from working as daymen (meaning working from 8-18) to being on sea watches, meaning working 4 hours, being "off" for 8, and so on around the clock. I was in port watch, meaning I worked from 8-12 morning and evening - probably the easiest hours to get used to for me. Starboard watch followed us from 12-4, and midship watch worked 4-8.

("Off" is because there are a number of things you need to do in those 8 hours, meaning you don't really have all that much downtime that you're awake in.)

A watch could mean either being on posts (fire round, lookout, helmsman), helping out in the galley, or being available for general work on deck - things like working on and in the rigging, sail handling, painting, etc. I've had everything from calm night watches, climbing in the rigging while the captain and a crewmember played the violin on weatherdeck, to four hours of horizontal rain and work that needed to be done. The fascinating thing is that while you're working it's just... something that you do? I was very rarely cold or hungry (though that is easily attributable to the fact that they literally fed us every third hour...) and while there was one day in particular where I came down to the fo'c'sle with an inch of rainwater in my boots, and hurting all over just became a fact of life - I have rarely felt such a prolonged sense of... contentedness.

(Tbh this is not an original thought but there is a lot to be said for having an arguably adhd adjacent brain and being given very clear, concrete work that is both physically and intellectually stimulating while not having to deal with a deluge of external stimuli at the same time. I'm going to take this info and work on getting better at giving myself screen free time.)

General impressions

The work was heavy and uncomfortable and I understand why sailors are known for their swearing. Somehow it helps to swear a blue streak when you're 20 metres aloft, holding on to a balls heavy sail for dear life and your entire left hand is throbbing because of a damn hangnail. Oh and I found myself singing in the scary moments in the way I used to do a lot as a child, in the way that my body somehow remembered even if I consciously didn't.

There are SO. MANY. ROPES. By the time it felt like we'd started to get the hang of things, the voyage was almost over. There's clearly only one thing for it: I need to go back. She's sailing to China next year and I'm eagerly awaiting more info on the sailing legs.

Sailing at night? Amazing showstopping spectacular. Spending a very calm night watch looking at the stars and feeling as if the firmament were swaying above us, singing Lowlands Away? Just. Take me back. I think that was also the night we first practiced night climbing. The sky was clear, the moon was almost full and, in the words of my watch leader: there was hammered moonlight on the sea.

Not having very many new impressions meant I had about four songs running on loop in my head which was. Interesting. In preparation for next time I want to learn more lyrics by heart.

I said I was rarely cold and that's true but I did also wear some of my warmest clothes and I cannot FATHOM how to stay warm in colder waters jesus CHRIST take me to Chennai (but also I AM eyeing an Antarctic voyage I got an email about 👀).

It's funny but I didn't think so much about how old fashioned everything was, I was so focused on the function of it all. It wasn't until the final day when I was putting some things away on cannon deck that I suddenly saw things with the eyes of an outsider. Happy I got that experience because it was an "oh..." moment.

And the people! Working and sleeping very, very close to 17 other people round the clock really makes for fantastic relationships. I feel like some of these people are my long lost siblings. I miss them. I want to have a beer with them. I want to knock them over the head and tell them to get their act together because they deserve it (okay this is about one guy in particular but yk). I wasn't alone in getting quite weepy on the final day but I'm hoping I'll meet at least some of these people again. My watch leader told us that back in the day, European sailors wouldn't say goodbye, they'd say "see you in Liverpool" - the place where everyone ended up sooner or later when they were between ships.

[snifflesthemouse]

I'm still rather new to Tumblr. While I've clearly displayed my ability to post my ramblings, I'm still figuring out the other various features of this platform. For the sake of reference, I have posted a screenshot below.

While I completely agree with @youhavebeenmarkled that it's grossly inappropriate to suggest Catherine, the future Queen Consort, is a drug addict... I want to add to the discussion and further develop why the concept of Catherine microdosing heroin is entirely ignorant.

@youhavebeenmarkled mentions several excellent points as to why the concept is ridiculous; from genetics to muscle tone and more. But there's deeper reasons why this idea of Catherine being on heroin is so far from the truth and reality, it's out of this world. Some could even argue it sounds like a page from a Hollywood script.

Before I get started, though, I want (and need) to stress a few things. I am in no way shaming anyone. As I've shared in the past, I am the last person in the universe qualified to pass judgement on anything or anyone. My posts are simply my perspectives, my opinions. I look at facts in the public domain, and with my own knowledge and life experience, I form my thoughts.

Please remember while you read this, I am not looking down on anyone. I am not bragging about knowing what drug addiction is or is not. I am only sharing some insights with you, the reader, on what real life heroin addiction is like. My only goal is giving insight.

I am not proud of my past, and I am not condoning it. Nor should you. Accountability is how I stay clean. Please do not feel like I am suggesting non-addicts are ignorant or "square". Not knowing or understanding heroin addiction is a blessing. It's a good thing to be in the dark about certain things because it means you're smarter than people like me.

Be proud of the fact you don't automatically see why these blind items are total nonsense from the start. And if you aren't proud of yourself, just know I am proud AF of you. For those of you like myself who have been through the hell of addiction, remember we do recover. With all that being said, let's get going.

You see, anyone with firsthand experience or knowledge of true heroin addiction would automatically know these rumors are absolutely ridiculous. Why? Because heroin addiction doesn't work that way.

Now don't get me wrong. The world is filled with functioning closet addicts. I myself was a functioning closet addict for years before the world was any the wiser. The key point, though, is the world did eventually get wiser.

Heroin addiction usually starts out in one of a few ways. Most Americans addicted to heroin became that way because of prescription painkillers. For example, I first got addicted to pain pills. When the pain pills became impossible to get, I took what I could get that was the closest equivalent. That was heroin.

But some people start using heroin because they did some at a party with friends. Or they have a loved one addicted and wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Some people are hooked on other drugs, like cocaine or ecstasy, and their usual dealer offers a free sample of the latest batch of heroin. There's a saying among addicts; "The first one's free."

Dealers know they can increase their profitability if they can get established clients addicted to other products they traffic. But these are just a few examples of how people get started using heroin. Very rarely does anyone start out on heroin simply because they want to stay thin. Contrary to the popular belief known to many as "heroin chic" that came from supermodels in the mid 80s and 90s.

Heroin is what addicts refer to as a euphoria narcotic. It has a euphoric effect, and it is sometimes called a "downer". Cocaine, crack cocaine, methamphetamine, or amphetamines are called "uppers" or "speeders" because they stimulate the brain and give energy. While heroin can have that affect on people, it is not the traditional go-to for illicit weight management.

In other words, if Catherine really did use microdosing (a concept I will debunk in a moment), her first, best choice would be a stimulant like cocaine because it's much more effective at appetite suppression and providing energy. Heroin wouldn't be the first, best choice for many reasons.

Because of its nature, heroin is highly addictive. Most users begin snorting the drug in powder form. Within seconds to a minute, the substance enters the bloodstream and hits the brain. The brain then releases endorphins that travel the rewards pathway in the brain. The first time one uses heroin is the highest they will ever feel from using. Every subsequent dose releases less and less endorphins in the brain. This is why recovering addicts talk about chasing their sobriety like they chased their first high. This is also why microdosing is an almost-impossible behavior.

Microdosing means taking tiny, small amounts over time. Meaning that you only use the minimum amount to achieve the effect you desire. But the problem is, your brain becomes physically dependent on the substance over time. Every time an addict uses, the brain gets more dependent on that substance to function. So, while a non-addict's brain has no issues with their brain producing endorphins, an addict's brain does. This is why heroin is so addictive.

Eventually, a heroin addict's brain will become so reliant on heroin to produce endorphins, the addict will become entirely dependent. This is also known as becoming hooked. When the addict doesn't have the minimum amount of heroin the body is accustomed to, or depending upon, the addict will start withdrawal. This is often called being "dope sick" or "detoxing".

Detoxing or being dope sick is the driving force behind addicts staying addicts. Being dope sick is the biggest fear of an addict. So much so, the fear of detoxing is enough to drive otherwise good, decent human beings to doing absolutely whatever it takes to avoid detoxing. Stealing from loved ones, manipulating innocent bystanders, lying, cheating, robbing, selling your body... are the half of it.

Being dope sick is like having the worst flu of your life times a million. You will vomit, have uncontrollable diarrhea, and your body will hurt worse than anything you could ever imagine. If you detox for more than a day, you will begin to feel like your insides are shaking, burning, and pulling apart inside. You can't sleep. You can't eat. You can't get out of bed. You miss work and lose your job (if you still have one at this point). You get desperate before this point, and you get carnal after this point.

Your brain and entire body becomes dependent on this substance to function subpar. Without this substance, everything begins to stop working properly. Depending on exactly how much you use normally, your withdrawal can become life threatening. You can have seizures, strokes, or even go into cardiac arrest. Hopefully you can see by now why I say the concept of microdosing is ridiculous.

To be able to micro dose would require the self control and willpower of a super human. This reminds me of an article I once read about a college professor who advocated for drug use. He claimed he wasn't addicted, had control of his drug use, and was a productive member of society. He said he'd use heroin like others drink after a long day of work. Yet, he's been using it for over a decade. Yet, he experienced detoxing. That professor is a prime example of an addict in denial. But I digress...

My points are this:

1. Heroin wouldn't be the first choice for weight control or appetite suppression; cocaine or stimulants like meth or ritalin would be.

2. Microdosing is an almost-impossible method of drug use because the body gets hooked quickly. Which means the dose will only increase in amount in order to have the same effects over time.

3. Heroin causes an addiction that results in serious, life threatening withdrawal that drives even the nicest person to doing the worst of the worst.

4. Heroin addiction, even in small amounts, takes no time to invade and overtake one's life. It literally only takes one time to get hooked. It literally takes no time to destroy everything.

Oh, and one more thing before I put a sock in it... at the height of my active addiction, I was using around 2 grams a day to feel normal. I spent at minimum $200 a day on heroin. Sometimes even more. When I started out, I was only using a tenth or less. It takes 10 of those to make a gram. So within two months of starting, I went from doing one tenth to needing 20 of those tenths just to feel normal and function. All the while, I never got smaller than 150 pounds.

I know it sounds terrible, but I would lament over how unfair it was. I was doing all this heroin, and I was still thick AF. I would literally joke to fellow addicts I would use with how it was total bullshit. How was it I was using 2 grams a day and still a size 12 or 14? That's how sick I was in my disease. Which is my final point.

Not everyone on heroin is "heroin chic" skinny. The effort, will power, and self control it would take to "microdose" would be far greater than what it would take to control one's diet and exercise. Plus it would be much cheaper to hire a trainer than employ a drug dealer.

I hope this very long, detailed, winded post gives better insight to the deeper reasons the blind item is so dumb. I also hope it gives insight to the real life of heroin addiction. My goal was, and is, to provide real examples to the blind item's absurdity. If I can help people better understand heroin addiction, potentially deterring someone from ever touching it or even a loved one learning something that could help someone they know struggling with addiction... well that would be a bonus.

P.S. If you or a loved one you know is struggling with addiction, there is help out there. If you have any questions or just need someone to listen, please feel free to message me. I will do my best to help. I've been there. They say the only way to keep your sobriety is by giving it away... I have plenty to give. Be forewarned, though, I am unapologetically blunt and honest to a fault. I mean no harm, but I will not sugar coat anything.

[voskhozhdeniye]

I haven't talked about the whole Dababy thing on here. I've written and deleted multiple posts, but haven't decided how I want to approach it. Do I want to tackle it from the Angela Davis "heterosexual black men and white women are the weak link to equally" quote angle? Do I want to tackle it from the I really do not fuck with most rappers and rap culture because it's built on misogyny, homophobia and capitalistic lust? How about a more personal approach?

I was 12 the first time I seriously considered suicide. I've wanted to kill myself for 20 years now. I truly do not care anymore, and haven't for a long time. My body has been breaking down since childhood, and I'm just waiting for it to give out on me. The day I die will be the happiest day of my life. Sad yes, but that's just the truth of the matter. I don't even know what I would consider to be the second happiest day of my life. This has not been a very pleasant life, and the avenues to escape have all dried up. I've been thinking about whether or not I want to continue my education. Where is it going to take me, am I wasting money, am I wasting time?

12 was the age all of my male friends really started to exhibit toxic masculinity traits. I tried to continue to fit in with my friends, but I just wasn't that person. While I spent the summer between 6th and 7th playing Pokemon, which I had to fight my ultra religious parents for, my friends started being interested in and terrorizing girls. Girls went from friends to bitches overnight. I lost all of my black male friends. I didn't tow the line. I was a lame nigga as the rappers like to say. I ended up losing all my friends in high school. That was more me being an antisocial neurodivergent than anything else. So my former friends became my bullies. They bullied me physically, they bullied me emotionally and they bullied me sexually. Parents are of course in the religious cult, and the Bible has the answer to every problem you might have. So there was no point in turning to them. My sister has two daughters close to my age, so they're really the only people I've ever been close to.

Do you know what it feels like to be abandoned?

Rap culture is not the totality of black culture, but damnit it encompasses a large portion of it. To be black and queer is to be the enemy of rap. Sure there are queer rappers, but like being a POC in America you're never fully American. White people never refer to themselves as European Americans, but we're African Americans, Asian Americans, Latino Americans and so on. Lil Nas X will never be fully accepted by his contemporaries. Any hint of queerness invalidates his blackness to them.

Does anyone remember 50 Cent trashing Young Buck because he was with a Trans woman?

Toxic and fragile masculinity is ingrained in rap culture.

The further I distance myself from it the better I feel, but the further I distance myself from it the more alienated I feel towards my people.

That link I always reblog about gay loneliness talks about how rejection from other gays always hurts more because those are the people you're supposed to build a community with. Well the same goes with race. There's an entire genre of music made by people who look like me, and a lot of the most well known names in it are vocally misogynistic and homophobic.

You don't belong here, and we don't want you.

This goes beyond rap of course, I've heard people who consider themselves advocating for social justice and black equality spew some of the same shit. Don't say Black Lives Matter, and then pick and choose which black lives. If we all aren't free, then no one is free.

But specifically about what Dababy said. I don't know if it's because of Covid, or if my parents have finally figured out I'm not straight, but now whenever I use the bathroom they go in behind me and bleach it hospital clean.

I guess they think they're going to somehow get HIV from their 32 year old child who has never even kissed another person.

My mother was listening to some cult video when I got home about dealing with homosexuals.

My eldest niece married her long time girlfriend back in October. My mother threw a fit when her wife asked to use our bathroom the day after their wedding.