#idk if im remembering some stuff wrong but i just vividly remembering having the crashing realization that they would never go back

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i remember binging eureka and they got to the new reality and im not sure exactly when i realized but at some point it genuinely shocked me they WERENT goin back to their old reality

[chytilovian-daisy]

so for some unholy reason i was with? a ex-friend from childhood? like i dont know if we were the last age we saw each other or what but anyway its like worst nightmare of emotional abuse these so idk WHY. anyway ig we ran at cat cafe together or were starting one. the guys from DEG come in. im trying not to freak out bc wow its deg!!! someone else waits on them and something about lanterns because we were doing halloween themed stuff.

ANYWAY. me and ex friend get into a fight. I apologize to the ppl in deg for fighting in front of them, tell them im a fan, leave. im in my old city at night but there are people around so im feeling better. Somehow it turns into day as im walking and im seeing ANOTHER childhood friend and im like “: D“ but i feel awkward going up to them bc ik they realized they were trans and I dont wanna deadname them but idr their current name. Anyway, their dog keeps coming up to me but ig they dont recognize me. I do recognize more people from childhood with this friend including this girl who kept wanting me to scream my lungs out on the playground as a kid.

Anyway, I keep going I realize. shit. im lost. I see someone else I knew but atm i cant remember who, but also from childhood. He says “Wrong turn too?“ I laugh and I nod. We head back to another street and down that street-- which I recognize actually, theres some weird gang wars going on but everyone has pink hair. I don’t know what to do, so I try and avoid it by going up another street. I remember some weird audio above me as im walking but idr WHAT. Someone talking something weird.

Because I get close to the gang stuff again somehow, I duck into some small alleyway but its like. only 2 sheds and barely any space. I emerge from a shed seconds later but also so do suit actors and I narrowly escape some weird gang shootout thing. I’m heading home and idk HOW, this part is fuzzy, but I end up getting completely lost and somehow accidentally stealing a mans life.

The guy whos life i stole was some star rich athelete. idk WHY they thought I was him or some shit, but anyway his girlfriend and whole family were assuming I was him and I was like “ok ig i live here now“. except I still just wanted to go home to my family. So long story short I do some weird sneaky shit around this giant college campus but its also a house, listen in, think about what movies im gonna watch when i get home. I keep being told by some gps thing my house is only 5 streets away.

I find out somehow I am in what SHOULD be Greenland, but its a tropical rainforest with crocs and shit. I steal one of the familys jetskis and try and go back to the states on it, or at least in my hopes, reach Canada and walk back??? But instead I crash into some party ship. My family is there! Somehow the college campus-mansion-boat collide and now its 1 big thing.

So im telling them I switched lives with this guy and theyre like “oh, we know. We have him here btw. we have ransom lets go.“ And I find out the ransom isnt the guy, he’s free to go, but his pokemon card screenshot collection??? So my mom goes to talk to the mom and shes like, “they said 1k but i want at least 10k.“ And it becomes this whole meeting between the families and the guy who I switched lives with comes in, in swim gear and a sign around his neck and im being a real dick and asking him how cafeteria food tastes and hes sobbing. And then I wake up.

[noxrynne]

idk why my dad keeps inviting me for things like lunch

okay this got really long im sorry, im kinda rambling/ranting into space and it makes me feel better

On one hand, I think my father is trying to reconnect with me. Why, I don’t really know? If I had to guess it’s probably more because of the woman he’s been with, since she likes me and was always really kind to me. Like, she kind of understood that I have a lot of anxiety problems, and when I showed up after being invited for Thanksgiving last year, she immediately asked me what pronouns I wanted to be used with me (I wore full makeup) and what my name was now. (I mean, they both know I’ve been diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Clinical Depression, etc... ) My dad, on the other hand, never really cared that I had anxiety problems, or depression, or panic attacks/anxiety attacks, and actively discouraged a lot of the ways I coped with it all when I was younger. Like, I had (and still have tbh) this thing where I kinda play with my ears with one hand if I’m feeling nervous, or shy, or flustered (or bored), and I do the knee up and down thing a lot, etc.... When I was like, in kindergarten/second grade he’d yell at me for doing that, citing it as disrespectful (since I did it a lot when we went to church). He’d hit me for it, and any time I cried (like, even when I was a 5 year old) he’d go off on me about crying (the whole “men don’t cry” thing). Like, I had my fingers slammed in a door and instead of help with that, he yelled at me for sobbing b/c of the pain. (Or he’d use the old phrase “If you keep crying, I’ll give you something to cry about” -- that was something he said -a lot- and he usually made good on it, which was why the phrase scared me).  He’d flip out over the smallest things. I’m talking to my stuffed animals? I’d get yelled at for it and told to grow up. I’m drawing pictures? They’re garbage and I should quit. I’m writing poetry? “That’s for women,�� I want to be a witch for Halloween? “No you’re a warlock, and you’re not wearing the hat” (the hat being 97% of the reason I -wanted- to go as a witch. I was in like... first grade?). I was grounded for playing with Barbies before, and other dolls my sister owned.  With him around, playing videogames was like a cardinal sin. So, I did that at friends’ homes (I was close friends with my neighbor, and his dad had like, a SNES/NES/Nintendo 64 system, and I really liked playing Smash Bros 64, Golden Eye (tbh in Golden Eye I just made smiley faces in the walls with the guns, I still do this in Overwatch a lot), I absolutely -loved- Zelda: OoT and so on. Zelda: OoT was a big deal for me in general when I was not just really young, but also like fourth grade during the summer, since the daycare my sister and I were dropped off at had consoles with it and I basically played it to kinda escape a lot. Kinda why I still buy the games and stuff x.x;;; But doing that, in his opinion, was always me wasting my life (Like, when we lived in PA I was in first grade/second grade/third grade). Instead, I needed to be always doing things outside (and when I got hurt, he told me to deal with it and suck it up. In Minnesota, when I was in pre-school/kindergarten we had an apple tree in the backyard I liked to climb a lot, then there were a shitload of bees living in it -- I actually forgot about that until like, I suddenly remembered that. Since, when I was younger, I really liked to climb trees and sit up in the branches and draw away from everyone).  I remember like, basically shredding my knees and shins to absolute shit because I was wearing shorts, and somehow managed to basically sled down on my exposed knees on a gravelly hill. My mom was the one to help me with the lacerations, my dad made me sit outside longer. (A neighbor carried me home, and I was incomprehensible and sobbing). They didn’t heal fully until like, three months later (Im actually surprised I didn’t get scarring from it).  He locked me in the kitchen once and I wasn’t allowed to leave the table until I ate his fucking sour kraut. I sat there for three hours, and eventually tried to eat it and threw up, which just made him angrier. ( and I remember when I was taken home sick from school in third grade, and I threw up in his car, and grounded me and was going to make me clean it until my mom stepped in -- Mangos or French Toast made me sick, reasons why I can’t eat either really aside from like, mango flavoring in drinks) He was always yelling, always threatening to hit me, calling me names (idk how many times I’ve been called a worthless idiot, a mistake, stupid, etc... whenever I messed something up, or tried to talk about how I felt -- and this is when I was like, just a kid in elementary school).  I mean, I was absolutely terrified of him. I was terrified of saying or doing something -wrong- and being insulted, screamed at, or hit because of it. I had, and I do still have, problems with being honest with how I feel to people who matter to me, problems where if I make a mistake I always expect to be dragged for it/insulted and hurt for it, problems where I have a really hard time just letting myself cry, especially in any even minor public setting.  When I was little, I thought this was all really normal. That kids were supposed to be scared of their fathers, that all fathers screamed/insulted/hit/punished their kids almost exclusively. Like, even when I had visits with my primary care doctor my parents were often asked to leave the room when I’d be asked questions (the one I was always asked was whether or not I was being physically abused, since the doctor would point out where I had bruising, and as a kid I always said “no” since I thought that if I ever said “yes my dad hits me” that I’d end up punished or hurt in some way after. And again, I just thought what was going on was normal, and that my doctor meant like something more extreme, I guess?). I mostly remember a lot of questions focused on abuse in general, where injuries were pointed out to me and I had to explain how I got them. And the like, I still remember the really long talk with my doctor where he basically pointed to parts of my body and just said “absolutely no one is allowed to touch you in these places, and if they do, you tell me.”  I had a lot of doctor visits and they all usually focused on the first part, but that one in particular is like, vividly in my memory. And when my parents got divorced, everyone was like... “I’m so sorry to hear that” and I always felt confused? Like “why are you sorry I don’t want to be around my dad anymore. I’m happy to live with just my mom and my sister far away from him.”  And... I don’t know. I guess I’m just like, being nice and hopeful to a fault right now? That he’ll actually come to respect me as a person, as an adult, and try to maintain a healthier relationship with me? I feel like I really don’t owe him anything, and I have every right to say “no” every time. But, I don’t know, maybe I’m feeling like I should just to *try.* I know if I ever did say “no” he’d get offended/angry over it, and there’d be a high chance he’d straight up come to where I live demanding to talk to me, for me to explain why I didn’t want to do whatever, and that I should apologize for it.  ngl, when I came out to him and he made fun of me, then never called/texted me for 2years, I felt happier. I preferred it that way.  idk, sorry I’m rambling about this in text since I’m like, thinking about it and remembering stuff and kinda wanting to get it down. It helps me to write about it, since I’m not currently in therapy, even though I do want to go back to it.  (then again last time I went out to eat with him, he called me selfish, self-centered and that I’d never make anything of myself because my dreams are going to crash and burn absolutely, so that was fun.) I also kinda feel like he’s doing this because he wants to talk to me about me being transgender. I don’t know... like, -how- he’d want to talk about it (either insulting me/tearing me down for it, or if he’d genuinely want to understand me more as a person).  idk