#in other news: I have still not managed to fucking call the therapy place
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
.
#whatever fleeting moment of “I faked it all. I don't need therapy” I had last week.......... that version of me was a fucking liar dalgfdkjg#I.......... I desperately need life to quit being so fucking Much (TM) all the time because boy oh BOY is this a drag#why do the things I love constantly cycle back around to becoming things that upset me and make me feel bad#why do I keep ruining friendships and connections by not being able to reciprocate or reply or stay in touch#why is one task a day seemingly enough to knock me out for a week#why does every decision I make feel like it's the wrong one#in other news: I have still not managed to fucking call the therapy place#and now I'm stuck in the inertia of feeling bad about it but unable to do it#back on my complaining bullshit what's new#simon.out.#I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you. just know I wish I wasn't like that
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.
“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”
Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.
"Jazz?" Jason called.
She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.
"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.
Jazz moved her head to side to side.
"Defective?"
"I've done ten of them, all the same."
But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.
Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.
Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."
"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.
"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.
(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)
Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”
Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.
Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”
“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.
She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”
Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.
“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”
Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”
“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”
Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”
“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.
Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”
Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”
“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”
Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”
Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.
If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.
Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#jazz fenton#anon ask#jason todd#jazz has a shadow friend#anger management ship#jason x jazz#hardcover ship#phantombat next gen#lmaoooo ty for the ask#dan phantom#dan fenton#dark danny#jazz got so much cream she had 7 buns in the oven— *gets shot*
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?
i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?
it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.
i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.
do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway
yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.
i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Finding Refuge.
Chapter two.
Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse with Terry Richmond

“I’m so sorry, Raelynn. The position has been filled.”
Raelynn Matthews looked into the eyes of the receptionist standing behind a sleek front desk. The stillness within that corporate building in Downtown Atlanta left an eerie feeling she was intensely familiar of.
“E–Excuse me?” Raelynn finally found the words to speak, “I–I–I–don’t understand.”
The nonchalant receptionist stared back at Raelynn with a cool expression and a slow blink.
“I received an email from your company for a job opportunity. You have an opening here,” Raelynn displayed the email to the receptionist, “So help me understand…”
The sunken, almost lifeless eyes of the receptionist flicked down to her iPhone and then back to her face.
“That email was sent two days ago. We don’t wait around for a response. If you wanted the job, you’d have shown up within the allotted timeframe.”
The even, condescending tone of the alabaster bitch sitting before her was about to bring the evil out of Raelynn.
“Are you being sarcastic? The date says March 25th. Today is March 25th—”
“I’m trying to be nice here. What would you rather me do? Go grab one of the big boys and have him tell you what I just told you?”
Emerald green eyes stared into Raelynn’s coffee brown orbs. The receptionist with a nameplate that reads: Monica Caudle, started packing her patchwork satchel, prepared to leave Raelynn standing there. The sound of dress shoes against polished, concrete floors echoed around her as her fingers covered in various silver rings twitched against the desk’s surface.
“You know your way out—AHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Somehow, Raelynn’s hand smacked against Monica’s Big Gulp cup and spilled the contents of a blue slurpie all over her white capris and black, pointed toe, ballet flats. Monica leaped up and almost tripped from the velocity of her sudden movements. The blue, icy-cold liquid drifted all over her desk, soaking very important documents and Monica’s AirPod Pro case.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Monica screeched, “I OUTTA SLAP THE FUCK OUT OF YOU—”
Whoops,” Raelynn twisted her full lips and gave a single shoulder shrug, “My hand just…has a mind of its own.”
“I’m calling security—”
“Call them, I don’t care. You deserved it. I’m sure you’ve gotten by so far in your miserable life being nasty and rude to people. Today is the day you feel how it feels to be treated poorly. And it doesn’t help the fact that you’re so ugly on the outside. It matches that rotten core of yours.”
Raelynn beamed at Monica. Monica stared at her with her mouth agape.
“Think about what I’ve said. Really think on it, Monica. I could have done worse,” Raelynn placed her large, black, Telfar bag over her shoulder, “Have a good rest of your day!”
Turning, Raelynn walked away, ready to get so far away from that building. She refused to allow herself to cry over it. Maybe it was a sign for the heavens above that this job wasn’t for her. She was still in college working towards a certificate in medical billing and coding. Other opportunities were on the horizon.
Raelynn had a temper, one she couldn’t control when in situations. Slowing down, breathing deeply, and taking a break before responding were methods she tried to use to reduce her anger. Practicing relaxation skills and developing new anger-management strategies may also help. She just started therapy, so it was an adjustment for her.
A black girl from Decatur, apart of the 14.57 percent of African Americans within the eastern suburb. Her foster parents had her attend the best schools, put her in many clubs from ballet to karate, and made sure she got a full ride to Spelman.
You may have heard the expression “children are resilient,” promoting the idea that children can overcome and conquer hardship and trauma. While it may be comforting to believe in the rhetoric of childhood resilience — that children are immune to adverse experiences and won’t be damaged by trauma — it’s far from the truth. Raelynn suffered heavily from PTSD. She was neglected by her biological parents and abused by her mother’s boyfriend at the age of seven.
The cigarette burn in the center of her chest was a reminder. The sensation of piping hot water against her skin brought back memories of sitting in a hot tub after receiving a beating, the whelps on her skin so painful she couldn’t stand the heat against her skin. Nights without a meal because she ‘disrespected her mother’s man’. Going to school at the age of nine with a black eye was enough to have her 4th grade teacher call CPS.
“Take her, I can’t afford her anyway. One less thing to be concerned with.”
George and Tonya Williams adopted her. George was a Veteran and Tonya was a pediatric nurse. They drove all the way from Decatur to take her back with them. George was a very disciplined man. Very straight and very structured. He was like a drill sergeant. Tonya was loving and often times smothered Raelynn. They built a picture–perfect daughter to their liking, and Raelynn felt she didn’t have a say in the matter. Although she was forever grateful of them, she wished they could understand.
Raelynn became rebellious. She skipped school, got suspended multiple times, fought often, and stayed out way past curfew. It was a cry for help that fell on deaf ears. Eventually, George started to regret adopting Raelynn. And just like her mother’s boyfriend, he hit her. Slapped her in the face. Slapped her while her foster mother watched. Thankfully, she was of age to leave them both behind and figure out what she was going to do.
She left Decatur and moved to Atlanta where she worked two jobs to make ends meet, got her license, made poor dating choices, and partied till she couldn’t party anymore. It did nothing but numb the pain. She tried reaching out to her biological father, but discovered he had passed from colon cancer a year prior. Her mother was no longer with that abusive man but she was living in South Carolina with extended family until she got back on her feet.
Before stepping off the curb and into the street, Raelynn stopped herself, realizing what she was about to do. Was she about to…walk into incoming traffic? She took two wide steps back and closed her eyes. That wasn’t the answer. Raelynn noticed a bench and took a seat. She sat her bag down next to her and retrieved a small note pad and a pen with purple ink. Raelynn removed the top to the pen with her teeth and started jotting down what had just happened.
After what felt like an hour, Raelynn stood from the bench and walked safely across the street to her parked car and climbed inside. The drive back to her shared apartment with her roommate took longer than usual, cars bumper to bumper. Raelynn opened the door to their two bedroom apartment and dropped her shoes off where she stood. Walking inside, she spotted her roommate, Ashley, an art major with the beauty of a pageant girl and the body of an IG model. Ashley was wearing a matching, pale–pink pajama set with her honey blonde knotless braids cascading down her back.
“Raelynn? Did you see the news?” Ashley glanced over her shoulder at Raelynn with light–brown eyes, “look…”
This is a worldwide emergency broadcast; a viral outbreak has been reported and is spreading quickly. The virus is a fast acting strain and is passed through bodily fluids from the infected. Once bitten or contaminated in any way, it attacks your bloodstream and brain. The symptoms of the infected include profound sweating, fever and nausea.
Raelynn’s eyes were hooked to the screen. Ashley stood from the carpet and began ringing her shaky hands as fear rushed through her. Life was about to get interesting. So, a worldwide pandemic? Great. What else can go wrong? They were behind in rent, she couldn’t get another job after being fired from her job delivering packages from Amazon. With a pandemic, she’d have no way to pay bills and survive.
Call up George and Tonya. Move back home to Decatur, she thought.
“It’s probably one of those distractions, Ashley. Just like all of that Area 51 bullshit—”
“Shhhhh! Listen!”
Ashley turned the volume up on their wall—mounted flat screen.
The virus is fatal and there is no cure as we speak; we have reports coming in now that the infected that have passed are rising and attacking the non–infected. Please stay in your homes and do not get close to anyone sick, in severe cases that you need to protect yourself, the only way to stop them is damaging the brain. Do not try to come to emergency services or hospitals and wait for more information…
“Rae…”
Ashley was starting to have a panic attack right before Raelynn’s eyes. The intense fear and anxiety she was experiencing made her dizzy. Ashley almost lost her balance and fell face first against the carpet. Raelynn dropped her bag and rushed over, slowly lowering Ashley to the sofa. She wrapped her arms around her shaking body, rubbing her back in soothing circles. Ashley’s hyperventilating began to slow down.
“Ash, it’s okay…it’s okay—”
“I need to call my mom and my sister! I need to know that they’re okay!” Ashley shouted hysterically.
“Ash, Ash, please, calm down—”
“NO!”
Ashley shoved Raelynn, causing her to fall back against the couch while she stormed off down the hall. Raelynn shot up from the couch and followed Ashley, angered by her rage against her when she was only trying to help. She stood within the doorway of Ashley’s bedroom and watched her pack an overnight bag with random pieces of clothing.
“So, you’re just going to go out there when they just said to stay indoors—”
“I need to be with my family, Raelynn. They’re all I’ve got left. I don’t expect you to understand that—”
“HOLD ON,” Raelynn charged inside of Ashley’s room, “I was only trying to help you! If they’re saying it isn’t safe to go out, then why would you?—”
Raelynn wasn’t prepared for what just happened. Ashley bent over in front of her and vomited all over her bedroom floor. Raelynn rocked back on her heels to avoid it from getting on her. The putrid smell of her stomach contents filled the cramped space and Raelynn couldn’t stand there any longer.
Ashley looked up at her with a sweaty face and spit hanging from her bottom lip. They locked eyes and the silence between them was almost chilling.
The symptoms of the infected include profound sweating, fever and nausea.
“How long have you been feeling like this?” Raelynn questioned.
Ashley avoided Raelynn’s penetrating gaze.
“Ashley, how long?”
Ashley wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She rushed past Raelynn and into their shared bathroom to grab cleaning supplies. Raelynn watched her scrub and clean, the scent of bleach mixed with vomit toxic to her senses.
“Do you think you were infected—”
“Shut up right now, Raelynn.”
“I need to ask these questions! Because if you are…if you are…”
Raelynn disappeared down the hall to her room. Fuck what that news anchor said on television. If Ashley was indeed infected, she would attack Raelynn and do the exact same to her. She packed an even bigger bag, grabbing all the important things she needed before heading back to Decatur.
Speaking of Decatur.
Incoming call…
“Tonya?”
Raelynn glanced down the hallway, the sound of Ashley scrubbing catching her ear.
“Raelynn, honey, is everything alright? Did you hear what’s happening? Are you safe?”
“Uh…” she lowered her voice and cracked her door, “I don’t think so…my roommate is sick…she just threw up everywhere.”
“You need to come home. Get out of there fast. I rushed home from work because the hospital is in an uproar. The things I’ve witnessed…come home, Rae.”
“How does George feel about all this?”
“…George wants you home too. Leave now and let me know when you’re on the way. I love you. Please be careful, Raelynn.”
Beep.
Raelynn started to feel her own sense of trepidation. She continued packing, and when she finished, she opened her door, silence ahead of her.
“Ashley?”
Nothing. Just an eerie silence.
Raelynn hated the unknown. She hated not knowing what she was walking into. That hallway was her only chance of leaving that apartment. Mustering courage, Raelynn gathered her things and began walking the hallway. Before she approached Ashley’s door. She stopped, reaching inside of her Telfar bag, gripping the handle of her licensed gun. She made sure to bring it with her if what the news was saying was true.
In severe cases that you need to protect yourself, the only way to stop them is damaging the brain.
Raelynn stepped in front of Ashley’s door and it was empty. She’d left. Raelynn exhaled, hoping that Ashley wasn’t infected. She was on her way to her mother and sister. If she’s infected, she would definitely do the same to them.
Not wasting anymore time, Raelynn left the apartment behind and as she exited the complex, her eyes moved back and forth, taking in the sight of people rushing and screaming and crying. She hadn’t been in her apartment for an hour and already there was mass hysteria. She jogged with her bags to her Honda Civic, popping the trunk and throwing her bags inside. Raelynn made sure to keep her eyes focused around her. She hopped in her car and slammed the door shut, thankful she was safe.
We’re gonna die!
It’s the apocalypse!
Those words stuck with her the entire ride to Decatur. She could only hope it wasn’t true. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe she needed to be woken up from this growing nightmare.
——
3:00 pm
The town of Senoia
located 45 minutes south of Atlanta. It was established in 1860 , the land was purchased by a Reverend. Cotton and Peaches where the agricultural products shipped from this area. There are still plenty of farms, now they have lots of honey farms and other fruits. The town was named after a captain's wife from the civil war.
Terry walked into that town with a shotgun flung across his body and a crossbow in his hand. He wore his favorite jeans, a grey T-shirt beneath a flannel shirt, and a beanie on his head. His hazel eyes took in the appearance of the charming little town, small shops surrounding him. The sound of shuffling feet startled him so he ducked low behind an abandoned, faded blue sedan.
It was a small group of zombies.
Terry silently watched while fixing his crossbow to shoot. He steadied his breathing, something he’d learned to do over the months. No use in making it known that he was highly anxious. His eyes peeked through the dusty window at the zombies moving along with weak attempts to stay on two feet.
It’s crazy to think that these were once everyday people. Waking up, going to work, driving, laughing, making love…
They stumbled around, moaning and groaning.
Rauuuhhh…guhhhhhhhh…
Another method that allowed Terry to keep the zombies away from where he hunkered down was to bait them. He’d tie dead animals to a wooden board and hang them in various locations within the forest to keep his scent away. It worked, because if they caught a whiff of him, they’d go crazy. He had to do it every several days. A lot of work, but worth your life.
When they were far enough away, Terry remained low, his eyes casing the area like a hawk. Solid back against a brick wall, Terry retrieved his walkie talkie from his back pocket. He’d made it to the first landmark Rae told him about.
“When you find the history museum, radio me and I’ll tell you what to do from there. Good luck, Terry.”
He was still unsure about Rae.
“Why are you helping me?” Terry questioned her hours prior.
“Because…I know what’s it’s like…and we have to have each other’s back, right?”
He’d like to believe that. Terry refused to travel in a pack. He refused to trust anyone else besides his cousin. But, with Mike gone, he had no choice but to let his guard down just a little. Only a little this time. As soon as he finds Mike, he’s leaving everyone behind. Including Rae.
“Rae, this is Terry, come in.”
Terry moved further away until he was hiding beside a dumpster, crouched low.
“Rae, what’s your 20?”
He couldn’t stay here any longer. What the fuck was she doing? His head snapped to the right when he thought he’d heard something.
Terry whispered a low “fuck,” before jogging as quickly and quietly as he could across to the other side.
“Rae, come in, I’m too exposed. You got me open out here.”
“Terry, Terry, I’m here, sorry…”
“What the fuck was that?” Terry whispered aggressively into the walkie talkie.
“Signal strength down. I’m trying here, Terry. Are you at the landmark?”
“Yes, yes. Now, where to go from here?”
“Travel north. You’ll notice train tracks straight away. Stick close to the trees. When you reach a tunnel, I’m waiting inside for you.”
“Will you? I need your word, Rae.”
“I promise. I wouldn’t lead you astray.”
Terry moved. He hadn’t been in this position for at least two months. His well, structured game plan to remain hidden most of the time was being tested. It took Terry about twenty minutes to find the tracks. He stepped over carefully and did as Rae suggested: sticking to the trees. Ignoring the twigs and pointy greenery scraping his skin, Terry could see the tunnel straight ahead.
“Argh!”
Terry dropped to his knees when the back of a gun collided with his head. He dropped his crossbow and turned around on his hands to see who had attempted to knock him out. He was resilient. it would take a lot to put Terry Richmond down. Not even a taser could subdue him for long. He’d withstood a bullet to his back. His bright eyes stared up into the eyes of a wild—looking white man with overgrown facial hair and thin, oily, dirty blonde hair.
“Who the fuck are you?!”
Terry wanted to kill this man with his bare hands. He was going to draw attention to them.
“Get that gun out my face.” Terry warned.
“I don’t recognize your face ‘round here. We don’t take kindly to outsiders in Woodsbury. You could be infected…”
“Yeah, well, I’m not. And you’re right, I’m not from around here. But I damn sure don’t owe you an explanation. After all, you don’t own this town.”
Click.
Terry acted quickly and charged the man into the bushes. They wrestled, rolling around in the dirt. Terry took his arm and pinned it back, causing the man with rancid breath to wail in agony. He wouldn’t keep still. Terry had to put him in a choking headlock with his bulging bicep.
He squeezed.
The man tapped his arm frantically.
“You wanna go to sleep? Drop the fuckin’ gun. Do it now, motherfucker.” Terry spoke through clenched teeth.
The man loosened his grip on the gun. Terry gave his throat one more painful squeeze to let him know he meant business before releasing him. Terry picked himself up from the ground while the man tried to catch his breath. He picked up the gun and placed it on his hip.
“This mine now.” Better move along before they come find you after making all that noise.”
Terry snatched up his crossbow and adjusted the shotgun around him as he walked, with one final look of pure hatred down at the man, he continued on his way and fast. Terry lifted his forearm and studied the bloody abrasion with fierce eyes.
He wanted to scream. He couldn’t afford to walk around with an open wound. If anything, that man he was fighting back there could be infected.
Terry took off running as fast as he could, darting between trees like a track runner. Up ahead, he came out onto the train tracks and sprinted into the dark tunnel. He slowed his footsteps and pressed his chest into the wall of the tunnel, exhausted breaths billowing from his mouth.
He didn’t have a second to gather himself before he had his crossbow aimed at the face of a woman.
Ebony skin a deep brown with a dewy appearance.
Heart shaped face with eyes coffee brown and a flared nose decorated with a hoop ring.
Lips full and lush.
Hair styled in thick, rope twists that reached her waist
She had her hands raised in surrender. Those entrancing eyes didn’t look away for a second.
Staring down the length of his crossbow, his eyes that appeared green drifted down her tiny frame. She was wearing a hoodie beneath a thick, utility jacket. Her lower half was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and her feet were covered with dirty high–top Vans.
His eyes locked with hers again, and he slowly lowered his weapon. She released a shaky breath, the sound settling his nerves. He held the crossbow to his side and parted his dry lips to speak.
“Rae?”
She nodded her head, her own eyes taking him in from head to toe.
“Terry…”
She reached behind her and Terry’s eyes followed cautiously. Raelynn held up a hand to calm him down.
“I’m just grabbing the walkie talkie,” She displayed Mike’s walkie talkie, holding it out for him to take, “Here…figured you’d want this back—”
“Show me the worksite where you found it. Maybe there’s a clue there that’ll lead me to Mike—”
“That’s not a good idea…”
Terry tilted his head down at her short body. Rae had to crane her neck to look at him.
“That’s my family, Rae. And we had a deal. Did you forget that?”
Rae’s eyes darted down to her feet. Terry released a sigh.
“Fuck it, just point me in the direction and I can be out your way.” Terry said with a frustrated voice.
“It’s not that I don’t want to help you, Terry. It’s just…there’s guys from this group that are pretty dangerous…they’ve been on the hunt for anyone that could be infected and they’re killing them on the spot.”
“Hmm, is that so?” Terry looked left and right before his intimidating eyes fell on her again, “I just took down one of those guys not too far from here. I ended up with this,” Terry raised his arm to show her, “And I’m not tryna stick around to get infected. Got something on you to wrap me up?”
“Yes,” Rae started walking backwards towards a door, “This way—”
“Stop.”
Rae paused.
“What’s down there?”
“Our refuge. You coming or not?”
Terry hesitated. He looked around him one last time before following Rae through a door, darkness the only thing he could make out ahead.
@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r@kanafunee @helloncrocs @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter
264 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Dream (Dazai x Reader)

Art credits to haru9033 on Twitter (X or whatever the new name is)
Look at my cinnamon bun, my sweet baby. He's safe in my bed y'all! This is 100% self-indulgent because my therapy is until the 18th so I needed a distraction after reading chapter 109.
In which we have a nightmare (chapter 109 is the fucking nightmare) and Dazai comforts us to the best of his abilities. He's trying ok!
Should I write comfort for Sigma? When I get my hands on that rat!
Bye now - Mars ♡
Your eyes shot open, big and filled to the brim with tears. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, the muscle pumping larger amounts of blood under the silly impression that you’re dying. You were dying. It felt so, at least.
This unbearable tight feeling in your chest, like someone had your heart in their hands and was continuously wringing. Tighter and tighter. Your throat, stiff and dry, made your body feel worse. You could barely get a word out.
Dreams have a funny way of feeling too real and your silly little brain confuses reality with them. But it felt so real.
An overwhelmingly dreadful feeling engulfs your chest.
Breathe. Breathe.
The man beside you sleeping peacefully, or so it looked. Your legs intertwined with each other, and his head rested up against your breast without fully being on top of you. You try to calm yourself down, not wanting to wake your lover. It’s rare he gets any sleep. His own mind a steady home for ugly thoughts.
Gently you push him away from your body and get up, making your way to the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of cold water and chug it down.
“Bella…” Dazai calls from the doorway, his face filled with sleep and his hair messy yet he still managed to look beautiful. He’s always beautiful.
“Oh… Osamu” you said weakly with a smile. “Just got a bit thirsty” you lie. You’ve figured out a while ago that it’s impossible to lie to him. The man was simply too smart.
Dazai smiled and approached you, his hands finding homage on your waist. “Bad dream?” he asked and leaned down holding you close. He rubbed his cheek against yours.
You nod, “I can’t hide anything from you huh?” his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly. “No.”
He hums and leads you back to your bedroom. “Come, sit” he sits down on the bed leaning against the headboard and pulls you down onto his lap, “Tell me about it” His voice low and gentle. He radiates a certain comfort, or maybe it was because you’ve grown to love him so dearly that you naturally seek comfort from him.
Dazai places a kiss on your forehead, his hand rubbing your back trying to soothe you.
“Osamu…I…” You take a deep breath, “you… you died” your voice breaks and the tears roll down your cheeks. He brings his other hand up to your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I know it’s just a dream, but it felt too real and-and” you bury your face into the crook of his neck. His scent working as a grounding method, you breathe him in deeply. He smells like home.
Your home.
“I just don’t want to lose you” the tears kept flowing and your voice trembles as you speak.
“Bella I’m here” Dazai pulls you closer to his body as if to prove his point. “Right here my love” he leans down and kisses you. The kiss is slow, long, sloppy and each passing second, he presses himself closer into you. “I’m not going anywhere” he whispers against your lips.
He knows he’s contradicting himself. He knows. He knows he sounds like a hypocrite because he’s always mentioning suicide and asking you to die alongside him but right now. Right now, seeing you like this, crying and trembling he feels his heart breaks to pieces. And crying because of a stupid dream of him dying makes it even worse.
He knows it’s selfish but how he’s happy. Because he feels so loved right now. You’re crying over him, even if it’s just his dream self, you’re still crying for him. His heart does a little flutter. Still his main priority is comforting you, he’s no stranger to nightmares and you’re always there to comfort him when he’s bothered by his own ugly thoughts and dreams.
But Dazai felt so helpless, and he uttered out the most cliché words, but he couldn’t help it. Not when his love is trembling in fear right in his arms.
“Samu you” you exhales, trying to find your composure but every time you think you’ve stopped crying the minute you look into his eyes the tears start coming again. It was horrible, the image of your nightmare just replaying in your head.
Wrapping your hands around him you hug him tightly, you’re afraid he may not be able to breathe so you release it a bit. “Don’t fucking die” you threaten and Dazai can’t help but smile. This woman.
“Bella sshh” he seeks out your lips, kissing you again. “M’here, right here, yeah?” he pulls back and hold your face with both hands and rests his forehead against yours.
You’ve calmed down a bit, forehead resting against his. “Osamu, just” you found it hard to speak. Your body slightly trembling, seeking your lover’s touch. “Don’t move, just hold me…please”
He wraps his arms tighter around your form, you snuggle into him and close your eyes.
Dazai found himself humming softly and patting your back in a comforting manner. He kept doing so until he felt your light snore and the slower heartbeat. The steady thump thump thump comforting him.
“I love you very much and I won’t leave” he whispered and placed a kiss on the crown of your head.
.
That night Dazai Osamu stayed awake and kept his lover tightly secured in his arms, looking over and comforting them.
#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#osamu dazai#bsd dazai#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#dazai fluff#chapter 109#bsd fluff#bsd comfort#angst?#bsd x reader#marswrites#bsd art#kissesforosamu#osamu fluff
665 notes
·
View notes
Text
TheTriumphantPanda's 4,000 Follower Celebration
Join me for a night at Charlie's Tavern!
I am still so incredibly grateful to you all for being here, for continuing to support me, and for enjoying it enough around here to stick around! I say it all the time, but you all are such a joy in my life, and I love this little corner of the internet that I've managed to carve out. Thank you for everything, I love you all! 🧡
To celebrate, we're going to do one of my favourite things - head to the bar for a raucous evening! All you have to do is send your drink order to my inbox, and any other information that I've listed on the menu above, and I'll serve you up something wonderful!
As with any good bar night, you can order as many drinks as you want, but please send them in separately! 🍸🍹🍷
Negroni Sbagliato - Pick a prompt from the list below (or one of your own!), and a Pedro boy, and I’ll give you a perfectly stirred 500 word drabble
Aperol Spritz - Send your order into my inbox and I’ll make you a perfectly mixed moodboard. All you have to do is send a Pedro boy and a situation, and you’re Aperol Spritz is served
Virgin Piña Colada - A playlist based on your mood. Send your order into my inbox and I’ll give you a freshly blended playlist to match whatever mood you’re in
Amaretto Sour - For Mutuals Only! Order an amaretto sour and I’ll tell you which object from our beloved Pedro boy I think you are! Joel’s flannel? Oberyn’s gold robe? Coming right up!
Large Glass of Wine - No good bar night is complete without a therapy session over a glass of wine. Do you have tension with a friend? Maybe nervous about a first date? Spill what you’re comfortable with and i’ll give you my advice over a large glass
Margarita - Order a margarita (all variations welcome!) and let me know what kind of fic you’re looking for, and I’ll do my best to rec some options for new reading!
Prompts
❛ you can't expect me to do all the work. i want to see what that pretty mouth of yours can do. ❜
❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜
❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜
❛ i want you to fuck me so badly. ❜
❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜
❛ you can call me whatever you want, baby. ❜
❛ be good, and i'll fuck you / let you fuck me. ❜
❛ we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us? ❜
❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜
❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜
❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜
❛ you want gentle? wrong fucking address. ❜
❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜
❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜
❛ you're such a fucking tease, you know that? ❜
❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜
❛ come in me. i need you to fill me up. ❜
❛ now, i'll ask again, are you going to be good for me? ❜
❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜
❛ begging is a good look for you. ❜
❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜
❛ so good for me. look how much you came. ❜
❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜
❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜
❛ you came so fast, i barely even touched you. ❜
❛ missed my touch that much, did you? ❜
❛ someone's needy. ❜
❛ you taste like heaven. ❜
❛ you'll be begging for me by the time i'm through with you. ❜
❛ let me stay like this in you for a little bit. ❜
❛ was it good for you too? it's never been like that before. you've never been like this before. ❜
❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜
#panda muses#milestones#Joel miller#javier peña#Frankie Morales#Dave York#oberyn martell#Din Djarin#Agent Whiskey#javi gutierrez
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
✤ Coming Out Fics ✤
A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.
- Top 5 H/L Fics -
1️⃣ And Then a Bit by @infinitelymint (E, 158k)
“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”
Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.
(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)
2️⃣ led by your beating heart by @missandrogyny (E, 33k)
Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"
Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.
"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.
Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any help right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.
"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"
Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.
But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.
(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)
3️⃣ California Sold by @isthatyoularry (M, 123k)
Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.
A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.
4️⃣ Shake Me Down by @agreatperhaps12 (NR, 208k)
Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.
5️⃣ Time Bomb by ThisSentimentalHeart (M, 291k)
“Why exactly are you here?” Louis asked, feigning annoyance and failing pathetically at it. “My publicist told me I can't go anywhere near you.” Harry said, eyes still smudged with last night's eye liner. “That makes you my favorite person in the world.”
Or the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.
HIDDEN GEMS:
💎 Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence (NR, 62k)
It felt like the blood froze in Harry’s veins even as he got a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t even made it two practices, only one of which he was remotely in charge of, without giving it all away and now he and Liam were both absolutely fucked.
“Shit,” Harry breathed out. “Who all have you told? Does everyone know? I thought I covered it better than that…”
“No, no,” Louis said quickly. "They’ll figure it out soon enough, though, because they’ll get used to you changing things up, but you’re only going to trip over your so called Americanisms for so long before they realize it’s because you don’t actually know fuck all about football.”
Harry sighed. “Yeah. I figured. I just need to bullshit for long enough to allow Liam to get the situation figured out from his end.”
“Right, which brings me to my entire point. I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with all of this.” Louis leaned forward. “You need to learn the ins and outs of the sport incredibly fast. I can help you with that.”
“What do you want in exchange?”
Or, an AU inspired by a 30 second trailer of Ted Lasso that doesn't actually have much in common with the show at all.
💎 That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 50k)
Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.
It feels different.
A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.
💎 some evening in springtime by delsicle / @eeveedel (M, 20k)
Fresh out of veterinary school, Louis moves to a sleepy small town in Texas to take over the local animal clinic. But his new life is quickly interrupted by a middle aged rancher with a bad leg and a mysterious past, who really needs Louis's yoga skills.
💎 still feel the same around you by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (E, 13k)
Twenty-five years is a long time to fall in love with someone, to learn all the ways a person can fit into one's heart. It’s also an awful long time to lie to one of the most important people in your life.
The Act My Age Girl Direction AU.
💎 Glass Heart by @musketrois (G, 7k)
“26-year-old West Ham footballer Louis Tomlinson was seen getting acquainted with 24-year-old pop sensation Harry Styles and others. Although it is not unordinary for these two professions to be social, we can’t wait to see what this budding relationship will bring to London’s social scene.”
-Celebrity Blurb 25 March, 2017
#hljournal#hltracks#hlcreators#trackinghappily#1dficvillage#trackinghome#hlsource#musektrois#momentofclarity#delsicle#yeahalright#lululawrence#agreatperhaps12#isthatyoularry#infinitelymint#missandrogyny#thissentimentalheart#comingout#ficrec
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
The new arrangement worked surprisingly well. I had never seen Samuel so relaxed. Even when he had a long shift, he was all smiles when he walked through the door and Hailey and Ivy were on him immediately.
I found myself looking forward to that moment every day, seeing him laugh as he hugged and kissed the girls, teased them, asked them about their day. They all looked so happy.
He would help Hailey with homework while I cooked dinner for all of us. He always managed to make it fun and interesting for her, and he even made sure Ivy felt included.
I loved listening to him patiently explain things to them. It made me happy to see. I might have done everything else wrong, but at least I picked an amazing father for my children.
I was almost sad that I had to scarf down my food before leaving them to go coach the senior team. I would rather have spent the evening with them, but I also knew it was good for me to get out, and I wanted to give Samuel time with the girls alone, without me hovering in the background.
“Hey, I’m back. And none of them broke a hip, so no extra work for your colleagues tomorrow.”
“Hey. The girls are asleep. I must admit, I wouldn’t have expected you to get into volunteering.”
I plopped down at the other end of the couch.
“Me neither. Jessica teases me relentlessly. But I just needed to feel useful, you know? I mean, outside of just working and being a mom. Do something nice for other people, something selfless for once. I’ve been stuck in my head for so long and this keeps me grounded.”
“That’s good. I should probably find a hobby myself. Just never had the time between the girls and residency and…”
“And your hysterical wife?”
“Come on, Freya! I would never call you hysterical.”
I laughed.
“Only because it’s medically inaccurate! I was the worst and I know it. I should have gone to therapy when I was like, twelve or something.”
He shrugged, smiling.
“Better late than never? And therapy is no joke. I had a few sessions myself to deal with the divorce and it was hard work.”
“Yeah? Do you want to talk about it? It’s fine if you don’t, and I probably wouldn’t enjoy hearing what you had to say about me, but…”
He smiled.
“I’ll skip the parts about you. It wasn’t much I haven’t said to your face anyway. But I ended up talking a lot about my family. I always felt like there was a lot of pressure on me to do better than Charlie, to never fuck up in any way. You know, to spare our parents, try to make up for all the grief he was causing them. It made me rethink a lot of things, and it made me very aware of how I parent Ivy and Hailey so I don’t end up creating some sort of unhealthy dynamic between them.”
“That’s good. I don’t want them to end up fighting each other.”
Samuel sent me a mischievous grin.
“Or stealing each other’s husbands.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry. I went too far.”
“No, it’s OK. Also, you don’t know, they could be stealing each other’s wives!”
He laughed.
“True. Shame on me for assuming.”
“For what it’s worth, I still wish I had tried therapy sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t have hurt you like that.”
“Freya, you would have hurt me sooner or later. I fell in love with you when we were fifteen, and you never did.”
“But if I hadn’t been such a mess, we wouldn’t have gotten married in the first place, and then I wouldn’t have…”
“And then I wouldn’t have my daughters. Would you take that away from me?”
“Not when you put it like that, no.”
“Good. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
I followed him to the door and he turned to smile at me as I watched him walk to the car.
It almost felt like I had my old friend back.
beginning / previous / next
#duchellilegacy#duchellichapters#duchelligen4#freya duchelli#samuel ward#hailey duchelli#ivy duchelli
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #282
Today started out normally. But it ended kind of weird.
J made a bunch of rice not too long ago. Like… a bunch of rice. And on the day we went to the reptile and arthropod expo, we also went to the local food co-op on the way home, because J was hungry. Not being one to pass up opportunities, I decided to snag some natto while I was there. But there were three different kinds, and I couldn't choose, and so in my typical style, I decided "fuck it" and got all three…
...Here's what the contents look like:
...Hey, Sephiroth? Do you like natto? I've heard that it's a very polarizing food; in my part of the world, people usually either really hate it or love it a lot, with very little in between, or so I've heard. I wonder what you think...
Normally, in my part of the world, one gets natto by going to the frozen foods section of the Asian grocery store, if there is one. I live in a place that's pretty diverse (and it's AWESOME), so we have Asian grocery stores, Middle Eastern grocery stores, and Hispanic grocery stores, too. We might have more, but... maybe I didn't find them yet. My city isn't as diversified as New York City, but it's still pretty good. Pretty good...
Well anyway. I don't really like the frozen natto by itself; it's really good mixed with rice, for sure!! But this stuff that comes in these jars... I could just eat it with a spoon. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that it hasn't been frozen first. I wouldn't know. Maybe someday, I should go to Japan and see what natto is like over there; I imagine it's oodles better than whatever we have over where I live!
Anyway, we had a bunch of rice, and we had bacon, because I got some from the local convenience store chain on my way home from therapy on Tuesday; M had left the car in a state with low tire pressure and low gas, so I figured the thing to do was to take care of it before coming home, and the convenience store chain called Stewart's (unique to my region!) has gasoline and free air, and also snacks.
So... after doing the whole "responsible adult thing", I decided I get to have snacks. And I went inside the Stewart's, but nothing appealed to me, so I just got a Birthday Cake Shake for M and a chocolate milkshake for J; Stewart's sells these in bottles, and they're really good! And then I saw the bacon, and since we already had rice, eggs, and natto, I decided to get it! And today, I had enough time and energy to prepare it! So that's what I did!
I like to bake bacon in the oven; it's super convenient that way, and you don't get grease splattering everywhere, and it's easy to get it to cook evenly that way. It's just a matter of arranging it on a baking sheet with some parchment paper...
...You stick it in an oven at 400 degrees F (or 204.4 degrees C) for about 25 minutes, depending on how crispy you like it.
Here's how it turned out!
...And if you're wondering what I did with all that rendered fat? Of course, I put it in a jar!
...I used some of it to cook eggs with nice, runny yolks::
...I also used some to fry up some leftover rice, with all three of the different kinds of natto mixed in:
...The result was an epic bowl of deliciousness! Want some...?
...I spent most of the rest of the day playing Dead Cells. I managed to defeat The Hand of the King in the training room with only 4 Brutality, 4 Tactics, and 22 Survival, for 8 points less than the recommended total; my damage multiplier was less than half of what it should have been, while using a play style that is not well-suited for him, and I smashed him up anyways. If I reach him in one of my next runs, he's gonna be in BIG trouble, lemme tell ya!!
I also made chicken leg quarters today - y'know, the same recipe that I've shown you at least twice before. It's a classic for a reason, haha! I was able to serve it up with some leftover broccoli and carrots that J cooked up the other day, as well as the mashed pumpkin I made yesterday. It was good stuff!!! But I didn't think to take any pictures for you; I'm sorry about that.
And here's where it gets weird.
So... M, and J, and I were supposed to go see that Wild Robot movie today, at 7:10. But when we got to the door of the building, there was a pigeon chilling out there, on the ground. It's weird to see pigeons on the ground this late at night. And it wasn't very mobile; it looked kinda haggard, and it seemed sluggish.
...Well. If you've been reading my letters up until this point, you already know where this is going. You already know that I couldn't just leave it there like that. So I didn't. Needless to say, we ended up not seeing the movie in favor of prioritizing the safety of the pigeon.
The nearby animal hospital is closed this late at night, though. We decided to put it in the upstairs bathroom so that it can have space to move, without any risk of our cats getting to it. We put it in the bathtub with a towel for some soft bedding; we expect that it'll poop, and a towel and a bathtub are easy to clean:
...I think it has some kind of respiratory illness. When I tried to reach out to pet it, it made a weird squeaking wheeze; that's not a normal sound for a pigeon.
We're going to bring it to the nearby animal hospital first thing in the morning; they open at 7:30am. They treat wild creatures. Pigeons are technically not wild; they are feral. They used to be human companions before they were discarded as though they are worthless. Nowadays, despite the fact that they used to be friends to humans, they are treated like filthy, disgusting nuisances; it's not fair. I guess I have a bit of a soft spot for them as a result.
...They deserved so much better than this...
And before you ask - yes, we know better than to give it any food or water; we don't know what's wrong with it, and the last thing we need is to give it things to put into its stomach, only to have it choke on its own vomit or something later. No harm will come to it if it goes to bed without dinner; don't worry.
...I just hope that whatever it's sick with is curable, and that it's not on its last legs. But it being on its last legs seems unlikely; it's still cognizant enough to recognize me as a threat, even if it was too weak to get away. That's probably a good sign. We dimmed the lights in the bathroom and closed the door; it's someplace quiet, safe, and warm. Even if it passes away in the night, it'll still be better than passing away on cold, hard pavement on a chilly autumn evening.
...Incidentally, this will be the third sick pigeon I've pulled off the streets of my city. One of them recovered after being sent to the animal hospital. The other one was sick with some kind of digestive system issue; that one didn't make it even after we sent it to the animal hospital, but at least it didn't have to spend its final moments on the pavement in the cold, snowy December air - back when Decembers in my region used to actually be properly cold.
I'm really glad that M and J don't get upset with me for the fact that I can't do nothing when I see something in trouble. I've had partners in the past who would roll their eyes at me and scold me for caring. The people I was raised by were the sorts of people who would roll their eyes at me and scold me for caring. I can still almost hear them: "It's just a stupid fucking pigeon; you're gonna make us miss a movie for a stupid fucking pigeon?" Or else call me gross for being willing to wrap a "dirty" animal in my cardigan. and try to keep it safe.
...But you know. This sort of thing, besides how great they are at maintaining a comfortable temperature for my body and keeping my pasty white ass safe from the sun, is exactly why I wear them. Like your long coat, it's a utility item. It becomes a backpack, a towel, a pillow, a wrap, and whatever else I can think of in a pinch.
...Anyway, I'm really glad that I'm not around people who will scold me for having basic empathy anymore. We can see the movie tomorrow.
...Well. If we're gonna get to the animal hospital right as it opens, I need to be up early - to the tune of 6:30am. It's already almost 9; I had better get ready for bed. Maybe if I still have a few moments after my CPAP is washed and my teeth are brushed, I'll play a little more Dead Cells.
I'll leave this here just in case:
twitch_live
I love you. So please do stay safe out there, okay? Please come back home to us in one piece. Both your world and my world need you.
I'll write again tomorrow.
Your friend, Lumine
#sephiroth#ThankYouFFVIIDevs#ThankYouFF7Devs#ThankYouSephiroth#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy vii crisis core#final fantasy 7 crisis core#final fantasy crisis core#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#crisis core#ff7r#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy 7 remake#ffvii remake#ff7 remake#final fantasy vii rebirth#final fantasy 7 rebirth#ffvii rebirth#ff7 rebirth#final fantasy 7 ever crisis#ffvii ever crisis#ff7 ever crisis#ffvii first soldier#pigeon#epic breakfast#wholesome
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's still early for me (at the time of posting this), but I wanna do some retrospection before I enter the new year
(it's heavy & long, feel free to not read it)
The first half of 2024 was... rough, to put it gently.
January was alright, I'm glad I found out about UT Yellow bc it's a wonderful game (I'd like to go back to it sometime, but that's not the point here). But then February came and it's when things got bad.
I met some people I thought I could call friends (I will calm any doubts now: if you can read this, this isn't about you :]). I'm not gonna pretend like I was an innocent victim, the way I reacted to certain things wasn't the best. I did apologize afterwards, but the damage was done. Yet there's also the truth that I was in a very bad place, mentally speaking. I'm not good with friendships, mostly for the fact that I don't consider myself interesting and I expect things to eventually crumble—as you will read later, it's something I'm working on.
I was paranoid everyday as I waited for the other show to drop. Things were going well for too long. I had my very first ever anxiety attack and I was called dangerous for it. In my worst, lowest moment, I was isolated.
I had some people that stayed with me, even when they learned everything about the ugly situation. I'm thankful for those people, being a rock when I was feeling so lost.
On the bright side, I got help. That is, I finally managed to start therapy. It's been working wonders so far, I'm so grateful to my therapist with how much she's been helping me. Turns out there's a lot to unpack there, many knots in my soul related to my family and social life.
Amidst these rocky times, I was reached out by an old contact from a very old former friend group. The Incident(tm) that birthed this deep fear of losing people I love by simply caring, for years thinking of myself as a burden that people tolerate until I'm not fun anymore. Everything wrong that happens is my fault, it was my thought process. Like a sword through the heart. Everyday I bled and it hurted, but I had to carry it as a form of atonement. You'll get used to it, eventually.
I was explained everything then, what this other former friend did during these years. How my life was utterly fucking ruined for several years because this person bad-mouthed me behind my back to the point that I was ghosted with no explanation. I remember after everything:
'It was not your fault.'
In that moment, I felt a heavy burden lift off my shoulders. 11 years of guilt gone in a minute. This situation mixed with a session where I was talking to my therapist about certain family drama that happened during my teen years and her words also hit me like a hammer.
'You were only a kid, [Yomiel]. It was not your fault.'
It wasn't my fault. I shouldn't have had to go through these painful things.
When I was back home I felt so much anger, bottled up for years thinking it was an unjustified feeling, thinking I didn't DESERVE to be angry ('everything wrong that happens is my fault'). But under that anger, was a feeling of betrayal. And that betrayal led to sadness. And that sadness just caused me to break down into tears. I didn't know how much I needed to cry until that moment. Mourning the loss of years of happiness stolen by other people that didn't like me and instead of just walking away, they hurted me.
I've been better since then! I have good days and I have bad days. There's a long road ahead of me leading to recovery, but for the first time in a decade, I'm full of hope. Earlier this month, someone very dear to me came back after several months of little contact due to being busy themselves. I don't mind waiting, I will always wait for my loved ones (life happens, especially when you're older. Among many other reasons). But having them back felt like having family back, bringing warmth back inside the house that we call life.
Awful things happened to me, and it wasn't fair how I was treated. I'm no saint, no one is. I'm flawed, it comes with being human. But being flawed doesn't mean I'm a horrible person. It's true that things get better. The sword was taken off my chest, and it hurts so much. But now the wound can heal, and the heart can beat and love again.
Maybe these events in my life are a sign from the universe, or something (very cheesy, I know). 'Time to let go of the past, of things that can't be fixed, of people that don't like you. And enjoy life in company of those that want you', I feel it's telling me.
Hopefully, 2025 is the year where I can start anew.
Thanks for your company 👑✨
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I've been having a Very Bad Week
(as have many of you, I'm sure). Bad enough that I've been considering going to the 24hr mental health crisis center a few towns over (I won't, because I don't want the paper trail; once you sign the intake form it's an automatic 24hr psych hold and I don't want that on any kind of record because Nazis).
So Weds. I decided to switch therapists. I'd only talked to A. like three times I think, and I just wasn't feeling it. My last therapist, J., left the practice in August. Anyway, I called and they were able to get me an appointment with someone new Thursday morning, easy peasy, no grief at all for wanting to switch again so soon.
So I start my intake session with L., everything is normal (giving a very brief synopsis of my history and brain cooties and why I've had 5 therapists in 5 years [3 of them left! I'd still be talking to the very first one if he was still there!], blah blah). Then I say I'm really in crisis, thinking about going to the ER, whatever, and I mention it's because of the election.
I'm not going to lie or bullshit or whatever; my feelings and thoughts are why I'm in therapy in the first place and I shouldn't have to self-censor for anything (except admitting to crimes, but w/e). Anyway, this woman was like "I'm going to assume you voted for Harris?" (uh oh)
"I did."
"Well, mumble mumble, in the spirit of full discolsure, mumble mumble bullshit bullshit--"
"Did you vote for Trump?"
"Mumble mumble blah blah reluctance, yes I did."
"Oh that's all I need to know. Sorry, that's a dealbreaker for me." (I might have been a little clipped or curt, but I'm a blunt person and I don't waste time. I wasn't nasty or demeaning or anything, just completely honest.
"Oh, okay, I'll let the front office know and they'll call you back with a new appointment for someone else."
"Cool, thanks, Take care." All said politely, if a little coolly (compared to my normal customer service warmth; I would call it a baseline for most non-customer service people).
This was at 9:30 am. By 3:30 no one had called, so I figured I would (maybe they got swamped and then forgot, benefit of the doubt, whatever)
So I call. And I find out they decided to have the office manager call me on Monday because of how rude and abusive I was (????!!!!!) and they'd already come out to the reception area to warn all the other therapists of what kind of person I am.
What
The
Fuck
So this woman had lied and twisted everything around, said I told her to shut up, I insisted on knowing who she voted for, I was rude, all this kind of shit. And I can't prove a thing because nothing is recorded or whatever. So it's the professional's word against mine, known crazy person. I was so upset, I was crying on the phone and everything (and even worse, my voice got stupid so it sounded like fake crying, but I couldn't stop it or reign it in).
I made sure to give my side of things. I was very very clear that I never said "shut up" because I just don't talk like that in a professional relationship. I was also clear that she made it political by saying she assumed I voted Harris (which, let's be real, is the same as asking), and that I don't think it's unfair for me to ask the same and make a decision about my treatment based on that answer. Sorry if I don't want to be vulnerable in front of a person who actively voted against my rights as a human being ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So now I have to wait all weekend to see if I'm going to be dismissed from their care, meaning cut off from all my drugs (really don't give a shit about therapy, it doesn't work anyway).
I've mostly calmed down, but I took a lot more drugs than I'm supposed to in combinations I'm really not supposed to just to calm me down enough that I don't think I'm going to have a heart attack, throw up, or violently shit myself from my fight or flight response. (and it only took 27 hours of gross overmedicating to do so!)
Anyway, buckle up kids, this is the future now and this sure as shit ain't going to be an isolated incident.
#sunken gets personal#i just had to rant because i have no rl friends#and my family is dead to me because of trump#i just had to get it out and i know i'll probably get that hit of validation from one or two of you and that'll be enough#on the plus side maybe all the nausea and gut pain will jump start a period of rapid and unhealthy weight loss#i miss my size 12s
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you have any fanfic recommendations? I'm fine with any. If you have sunflower fanfics recommend that will be awesome
I haven't read anything in a while because I'm in reading slump right now but I can still give some recommendations from the top of my head. I'll try to summarize the fanfic the best I can.
Btw spoilers for OMORI below
Swim Against The Tide by tsukithewolf: Post bad ending. Hero-centric. Main ship is HeroMari but there's background Photobomb and Suntan. Hero goes back in time and is trying his best to figure out the reason Sunny had a fight with Mari and trying to prevent the accident from occuring. While doing so, he decided to spend more time with his friends and understand them. This one is my favorite.
The Bridge by 00cat00: Sunny told everyone the truth and they all need time. But Sunny can't wait that long so he decided to jump from the hospital building. When he wakes up, he realized that he went back in time where Mari is still alive. One of my favorites too. This one got me really emotional especially at the end. Made me cry.
Endless Dreaming: It's in the middle of True Ending. Sunny was about to tell everyone the truth but he suddenly faints. Everytime he's about to tell the truth, he'll pass out. Omori and headspace isn't gone. Omori drags Sunny into headspace to hang out with him. Sorry Idk how to explain more, I don't really remember anything from this fic because it's been a while. But it's a really good read.
Yurushite by @/misty-wisp : Post true ending. But the gang didn't forgive Sunny and he moved away. Sunny started to sleepwalk and wake up in the middle of the night. Later on he found out that Omori is still here and the headspace is decaying. Sunny decided to investigate headspace. (Sorry if this isn't as accurate as possible I don't remember much >~<)
Dreamscape by @/omoriboii: I'll be honest with you here, I haven't read Dreamscape yet. Best I can summarize is this AU takes place in a virtual world in a game. It uses the beginning half of the canon leading up to the 'incident' then completely diverging from then on. (Sorry Omo I didn't do this recommendation justice😔)
Deep Sea Reprieve: Sunny found a baby mermaid. His name is Omori.
Magician in the mirror by @/aria0fgold : A short fic where little Sunny met a new friend who was in the mirror. He calls himself a magician and can grant his wish. Sweet friendship between the two.
Here are some sunflower fanfics I like:
They say, flowers are meant to be sunkissed by whitheredahlia: Basil-centric. Sunny moved away and lost contact with Basil. Four years had passed and Basil managed to recover from being abandoned yet again with the support system that is his childhood friends and years of therapy. Unfortunately for the flower boy, fate seemed to have other plans for him when he's met face to face with the person he's sharing his college dorm with. This is my all time favorite sunflower fanfic.
Bloom Later by witheredahlia: Sequel to 'they say, flowers are meant to be sunkissed'. Focus more about their relationship. From the description: 'Sure, maybe the boy he developed feelings for was also the same boy he committed a crime with, therefore trauma bonding them for life. But no one ever said every relationship starts out perfect, right?'
Flower Language by @/mirror-to-the-past: Basil centric. An AU where Basil never met the group and Mari is still alive. Basically an angsty delinquent Basil story where instead of cowering away when people picks on him, he fights back. Yes, he did meet the gang soon and developing bond with them. This is one of the earliest sunflower fic I found when I was new to OMORI.
Sunflower seeds in the rearview mirror: 'Sunny and Basil decide to go on a road trip before the Summer Everything Changed ends—too bad Sunny has no idea where they're going. The only thing he knows is he feels warm around Basil.' This one is from Sunny's perspective and he's an unreliable narrator. This fic is a fucking poetry, it made me cry. The emotional roller coaster it gave me. Also one of the earliest sunflower fic I found when I was new to OMORI.
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
I went for a run today. Felt a lot of things run through me. Many thoughts. When I got dressed I took a long look at myself in the mirror. Self love has become so important to me and what I try and teach others now. I give myself that hug physically before I go out into the world. I was faded off some new shit I ordered online. It really blew a number on me as my blood was pumped up running. It didn't take me even a block to feel that pain of my shoulders tense loosen. My mind distracted from bottling up emotion and focused on each step, the music, the thoughts with music.
I think about the empire I want to build for myself. Making my money back up so I can get my business license, vehicles out of repair shops. It overwhelms me how much I've progressed, only to feel back at base. Never allowed to fully relax.
I try to remind myself how far I've gotten since jail. I never thought of myself as my own business owner, always working under others, micro-managing everything. It has been finally the time I make it out here on my own but I'm cursed.
I think about how I first got into wellness, the friends I'll never forget I made. I still frequently think about them. Wonder, wish them well where ever they have ended up in their own lives. So much time passing since I last knew any of them…
The studio I worked at had a interesting history. I still don't know how I was called for the job out of everyone in that city, but it changed everything. It changed me. Also haunts me to this day. Every time I touch wellness the phantom from the past is stirred within me. Inescapable they are, no matter how far into the past they become.
Several times while I worked at the studio existed this presence there was also someone else, a ghost. I was made to seem crazy. Every moment I felt something was off about something around was I really wrong…or you were always there, weren't you?
It was the last place I saw you. The last time I knew you.
I still remember vividly the first time I encountered this ghost of you. I poured my stupid fucking feelings out to this friend. We were up on this roof top where the starting of the studio all began. The place didn't have a office space yet. After my own self therapy session of trying to convince this friend to spy on you I waited for them to leave first. I worked on a roof top that was accessed by a ladder, climbing down was horrifying challenging every time.
Little did I know what awaited below.
Ladder phobia aside…I finally climbed down. It was dark with the night really set in. I parked my sports car out on the street like a douche so I made my out of the alley up to the street curb. I stopped to check my phone and that was when I felt you. It is strange to question that chill down your spine but I then saw your shadow there. Among the crowd of people who shared the same street despite the late hour someone out of place shifted in approach.
Maybe just a stranger heading home, but their legs stall coming down the side walk after they swung the corner into view. Call me crazy, but I swore when this figure stopped, I watched their leg bounce with anxiousness…just like you always did.
Paralyzed I didn't know what to do. A million theories raced through my frozen form and all I could do was watch as the ghost shifted closing the gap between me and my car in between.
Was it even, you?
My mind flooded and I took off in my car without a stall before I could calculate anything. The fear of confrontation more scary then ladders, then the ocean.
Never had I felt so stiff gripping that wheel with a mix of conflicting feelings. Panic, dread, regret, agony, frustration, curious, desire…confusion.
Its traumatic and also strangely poetic that the studio was not only the first place I saw you but in theory also the last my percious lucky lurker.
I was sitting up on the roof top months later. I grown a lot as a person at this point. Recovered, and found myself so much. I had been doing wellness consistently by this time and enjoyed it despite all the hate the city gave me. I tried to keep my chin up and continue tried to show the world who I wanted to be, not what I had been made into. Wellness really became one of my passions. The studio had a whole studio space inside the building at this time and no longer was there a need to go up onto the roof top.
Yet I found the challenge of overcoming my fear of ladders was worth still working on so…there I was up on the roof. I wasn't doing anything but sitting up on the edge that looked down at the street intersection as well had a clear view of the entrance to my workplace. The studio had been a corner building so it had a good view of a busy interaction. I enjoyed watching the cars, seeing who pulls up to visit the studio. The studio had been under attack many times in the past with security problems. I had been taken hostage one too many times…
I also was smoking dope so I did it outside up on the roof. This was just a regular day for me. I was well faded just mindlessly observing with my tunes when that feeling hit. Why today? I was a regular to sitting up here though something felt off and it wasn't just me tripping. Nothing looked out of place on the surface.
I kept questioning if I had to lay off the weed again and take a break. I had been really convinced at this time you didn't exist, that your ghost was an illusion I made up to coop. I had been fully committed to the disillusion. Given up trying to prove you existed and just lived in fantasy. I liked the idea that maybe someone was there, even if there wasn't. I was crippled with a lot of depression, still am. A ghost of you shadowing over me till you were ready to no longer be shaded was more comforting then facing rejection.
Something was off about how you turned through the interaction. It gave you away this time out of the many lurks you committed in the past. I liked the color of your car, blue…and just like the one someone always parked across the street, in the very spot you pull into and park up. You would have had me fooled had you not bunked the turn. Did you practice? You must have, knowing that someone who lived locally parked there in a car just like that.
I just sat up there and acted oblivious but really just flustered. Always questioning even reality, as it unfolded in front of me. You were too far away to spot details. Just a arm seen leading to a gripped steering wheel. I kept wondering when you'd just try to approach. Come back for me… I had never been courageous enough to find you and do so myself. The nerves…too much without a melt down. Even just the thought today is too much.
You've left me ruined.
I came down from the roof top, heaving in panic on what to do. A part of me wanted to turn the corner and bolt across the street towards you, but then what?
What to say…what to do?
Scream madness as I spiral into a a sobbing mess.
It made me feel faint to process. I was going to black out. Something real I face that I've only come to realization of recently. I had even planned for the next time I thought you were there. A plan of confronting the ghost never known to others to be real. There was still a fear in me that doubted you really did exist, that you…were a danger. You were not who I assumed you to be. There just to finish me off in vengeance. Someone else with years of long hateful brooding against me. Someone who I knew was in fact hiding with the ghost of you. A scary nightmare to be unable to differentiate the outline of you in comparison to their sick methods of hunting.
Did you ever see them out there with you?
Or does even my own shadow think of me insane?
I went inside the studio and by the time I came out; armed in case, you appeared gone. Just like the banshee you are. A scream from the unseen that enthralls me, then rips me into pieces. If I had known that was the last time I knew you, maybe I would have had it in me to try and run across the road. Or would have I just looked mad, chasing after some one who just lived in the complex across the street…and confirming I was deserving to be locked in the future jail cell I had come to face.
I forever live wondering.
Eternally questioning if I'm still haunted.
Waiting for Casper at the ball, only to be stood up and ghosted like the fool I am. In love with a fabricated phantom of my own over dramatized existence. What a masterpiece of a love story had it all been if only reality.
0 notes
Text
The more people I interact with, the more lonely I get…I think I need to go back to therapy and start swallowing SSRIs again. This world is too much, too much idiocy that I want to punch people in their damned faces.
Can’t believe I have to deal with so many grown chuunibyous, feels like that Stanzi series with the anime concussion… 😂😭😭 Maybe when I fell and smacked my head to the floor at 15, my life has become irreversibly changed to this horrendous nightmare.
Or maybe, just maybe, the graveyard shift doesn’t get the best people and I just had to learn it in the shittiest way possible. My friends from the normal office working hours were never this absurd. Clinically insane? Sure, I’ve got friends living with heavy suicidal ideation, anxiety, depression and bpd. But absurd and delusional? No, never. They were hurt but respectable people. But they were never delulus, delulus that think they have this “dark side”. Like shut the fuck up Kaidou Shun, motherfucker really thinks he is 🎵justice knight of power🎶 right now????
Like bitch, ask your doctor for a delusions check up or new diagnosis for personality disorders since you truly have some suspicious shit happening around you when black out. Talking about dark sides with a marvel reference…and it’s not even Moon Knight, he said Thanos. Shut the fuck up right now, I don’t even want to see this bitch’s face, stupid ass fuck who has so much excuses for not doing his job properly. Delusional ass motherfucker, no wonder why all the other coworkers hate his ass.
Over here blaming everyone under the sun for not doing his job faster, everyone except himself. He was making all of us do our jobs twice, causing my work bestie to get scolded bcs of his wrong placements of products and stocks. Leaving it all strewn everywhere on the wrong corner, FUCK HIM! This goddamned motherfucker…
I got scolded because he couldn’t finish his task, so I had to multitask despite being quite new to this job. And the worst part of all is he still thinks it was because he’s a good employee. 🤢🤮 This waste of human space received complaints on his file from every manager. I hate this bitch ffs, need to throw a damn truck at him. So fucking pissed, I can’t believe he has a crush on me, why do I always attract the most mentally unsound and delusional type of men? 🤮
And it’s always their audacity to show off how good their work is, when it’s always me and my coworkers working harder to have to clean up their messes. This isn’t even the first time, Jason was like this too. I’m so sick of his shit. He’s just the same as the others, fucking audacity and unlike my exs, he doesn’t even have the braincells to understand a single thing anyone says. At work, our manager told him to put the drinks in the proper place and he just left them lying and rolling away and she just got so done, she called my work bestie to come help instead. So fucking tired of this bitch fr.
I can’t sleep from this anger and indignation from the fact that only men like this who bring suffering to my life will chase me. I’m so sick of this, I wanted to find a girlfriend, I wanted to be with someone who actually can comprehend instructions at least, I can’t believe this person is the 3rd guy who cannot follow instructions at work and sucks at their work but keeps bragging non-stop in an insufferable attempt to cover their insignificance that they subconsciously must know, bragging straight to the face of one of the coworkers who had to clear up his multiple messes. Wow…they just like doing all this delusional shit.
The only one that was halfway decent at his job was Jason, Isaac was straight up yelped and complained on by public patrons. And even then it’s a charity to say he was halfway decent, his senior was not impressed by his work.
I’m so tired of everyone in this damn life.
0 notes
Text

rehab day twenty four
still no answer as to whether I’m heading home in 4 days or staying on longer…getting sick of it now and have pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I’m more than likely heading home and making plans to do so just in case. You’d think the manager of a place that is big on honesty, time keeping and consideration for others would follow the same principles…trying not to let it ruin what might be my last few days here and remain focussed but I’m rly not happy about it.
I was rly down about things this morning and just felt generally shite - I have a dealer waiting on me to get home with a half oz sitting there but after a relapse prevention workshop I kinda really don’t think I want it…. I mean, I do, but I don’t want to be back to where I was at before I came in here, those were dark, stuck times…is it worth going back just to numb the pain and get a little wobbly? probably not. From other peoples experiences every relapse gets worse and the consequences also get worse. How much more am I willing to lose? We had group therapy after affirmations and meditation and they helped me to see the positives, reminded me that I cannot control people, places or things and that the answer will come soon enough. Well, eventually. I’m just stressing that I have no support at home, my family don’t understand at all and I continue to hurt them even now I’m almost a month clean and I will have to build a new life, all alone…
We went to beach at the end of the treatment day and I was still not feeling great but ended up dozing off in the sun while I was sunbathing and woke up feeling a lot better😄 yay. Hopefully tomorrow I will know what’s going on. I’m not gonna hold my breath though.
Was doing my assignment work and got a phone call from a friend back home checking in on me cos I’d messaged the girl he’s living with atm asking if she could get ket when I was adamant I was gonna go home and get buted, completely forgetting he was staying there🙈 thankfully that has passed but the main thing I took from the phone call was that my ex had called him up asking if he’d heard from me cos he (the ex) had tried to call me and couldn’t get through, cos I’ve blocked him😜 BIG WIN! a month ago I would’ve re-opened that door but something has truly changed within me and I genuinely don’t want to go back to our addictive/dysfunctional relationship or see him again, that’s done and over and I’m moving on to a better life - my life where his happiness isn’t paramount, and I put my growth and recovery first. Apparently he sends his love and is “there if I need him”, but I really and truly do not need him. I have me. What a fucking revelation. This feels like growth.
0 notes
Text
2/28/2024
12:55 a.m
I met with the psychiatrist and she completely wasted my time. She was pushing antipsychotics and anticholinergics as well as antidepressants. I told her I wasn't depressed. I told her that my hallucination was getting better by the month/week. Even if the progress is minimal. Its still a huge difference from the beginning and even December. I feel like since I've been on methimazole it's better slowly getting better.
Idk if methimazole will fix it but I explained to her that it has for one patient. She didn't seem to care she just kept saying you're not willing to take what I'm willing to percribe. Then she asked me if I wanted her to send in a Xanax script. I declined cause that'll mess up my entire script with prohealth and then they won't perscibe me it.
I was and am fucking pissed bc I wasted one of my 3 appts this week talking to her to have her open up old wounds and not listen to a word I was saying... she didn't care that psychosis actually does stop one day and that I said I can manage my symptoms and they are improving.
She even went to ask me what my birth gender was 3 times. It could have been shock as I pass extremely well but she asked me my deadname which is Tran 101 never do it... so yea it went horribly...
Now I called 2 other psychiatrist and left messages telling them politely but firmly I'm not taking antipsychotics, anticholinergics or antidepressants and if they won't replace Xanax with a comparable benzodiazepine to not bother calling me back. I explained that I saw a psychiatrist and that's why I didn't hit them back up, but she wasted my time and if they are going to do the same thing I'd rather just attend my talk therapy sessions and stay with my PCP.
I doubt they'll call back but I got to be firm bc it was a waste of my time and I lost a session with Erin this week bc of it. Beyond that I didn't get what I wanted and my tongue is never going to get better. I can't get prohealth to give me something comparable to Xanax 1 mg... but at least they are reliable and I get it when I need it and she will percribe it to me forever so long as I don't ask for more or a higher dose which I won't cause I don't need it. Unfortunately my black hairy tongue will never heal.
Hopefully one of the places I called will treat me for insomnia the primary and only reason I am seeking a psychiatrist... I might hit up a sleep specialist. So long as I don't accept a prescription, I won't lost prohealths prescription..
I am worried that if one of them do call they'll give me one of the better insomnia benzos and then try to force me on antipsychotics and anticholinergics or try to switch it for trazadone. Maybe my tongue doesn't matter. I mean it does but sleeping is pivotal for my recovery. It won't actually stop me from hallucinating at all but if I don't sleep I can get sleep deprivation psychosis. I could be hallucinating for the next 7 years with 7 hours of sleep a night... that's the thing but sleep is still important. I won't recover bc of it but I won't kill myself if I can sleep every night and I'm continue to fight.
The voice bringing up Kristen last night really fucked with me. This psychiatrist really pissed me off cause I could have gotten something out of Erin. Not meds but someone who wasn't needlessly cruel and useless.
I hope one of them contact me and say yea benzos are used for insomnia so of course we will perscribe you one. If they don't i guess I'm going to lie to a few new psychiatrists and say my symptoms are almost completely resolved. I'm going to say I hear happy birthday 3-5 times a day since methimazole. And since February the frequency dropped down significantly but those 3 days without Xanax I only slept 4 hours on the 48 hour mark.
Unfortunately when you have psychosis every doctor in America would rather treat your hallucination than look at another alignment as something separate. She kept yammering on about treating the primary cause...
I've always had issue sleeping. I took benadryl and used weed for years... once the weed was gone it got awful. So the primary issue is separate from the hallucination. It doesn't fucking help but it also isn't the primary problem. The primary problem is i need a insomnia drug aka a benzodiazepine to help me fall asleep and stay asleep.
So I'll just lie and say I'm recovering very quickly. How can they say take an antipsychotics and anticholinergic if I only hallucinate 5 times a day... some might still push but that's the thing. My next few emails I won't even bring up the word psychosis or hallucination. If they ask questions about depression or suicide I'll say never. I'll write in caps I won't take antidepressants. I fucking can't stand that antidepressants are the fucking bandaid for all psychological issues. I don't even have depression.
My mood is low cause I hallucinate constantly but depressed? I think not. My gaming channel and my motivation to keep it updated and my love for myself. My constant ruthless struggle says otherwise. It's normal to feel less happy when you're being tortured by a hallucination...
Either way I'm either going to lie to these two places or hit up new psychiatrists for a change from Xanax to another one. If that doesn't work Maybe I'll try a slept specialist. If that doesn't work I'll stay with Julia. Maybe a reliable sleep specialist will be better. Psychiatrists are notiously unreliable. They are notoriously trying to get you on as many psych meds as they can.
If I let this stupid bitch do what she wanted she would have gave me Xanax prob once. And Gave me antipsychotics, anticholinergics and antidepressants. That's the fucked part and I would have lost my script to prohealth.
I'm sick of fighting doctors just for the ability sleep. A sleep specialist may be the best route but idk if they will give me a benzo either they are last resort...
The dumb bitch was totally fine trying to get me on sedative hypnotics though, you know the drug that ruins your sleep cycles permanently and makes you hallucinate..and give you night terrors and make you sleep walk!
It's so fucked that doctors would rather endanger you than give you a fucking benzodiazepine for sleep. I'm thankful for Prohealth but I wish she would switch it for temazepam 15 mg but there is nothing i can do. At least they didn't force me to jump up to sedative hypnotics when I refused antidepressants.
Anyways I went to the support group today it was nice talking to people. They said I should lie to get what I needed to put myself first.
The hallucination seems a little less intrusive today. We will see if that continues its hard to describe something with no volume level that is nearly constant.
The issue with lying is I got to keep my story straight for my endo. My pcp. And my psychiatrist or sleep specialist when the times comes...
I can be honest with my therapists at least but I hope it doesn't bite me in the ass I doubt it will though.
Insomnia can be a fucking separate issue from hallucinations.. also I can ask them to not report the frequency at least...
It drives me crazy that doctors treat me differently. Yea i have psychosis but i only have one symptom. Beyond that it really is improving. Not as much as I'm going to lie about but it is drastically improving. At least from the start point.
My focus level matters more and more. I was masterbating and it was oddly silent eveytime I thought about it though it was reactivated which is why when I report Kristen It's pertinent to bring up ocd voices. Im not the only person in the group who thinks about it and makes it happen. It's just part of it..
I've been trying to cope with Kristen cause I was closing my eyes too long last night and when the voice said it it effected me bc of microsleep.... that's the problem...
I can't report her until I can handle the outcome of her potentially losing nothing and my suffering being nothing more than a slap on the hand... I can't do it while I'm hallucinating at this frequency bc it will crush me. I actually have to wait until it's either completely gone or so infrequent that it isn't really a thing but the issue is I'm scared if I do it even when it's infrequent it will like reactivate it.
At least if I stop hallucinating I can handle the outcome bc my hallucination has ended.
I know it's not depression with psychotic features. I know it's not schizophrenia or schizoaffective or schizotypal. I know I don't have bipolar- speaking of this bitch was so fixated on do you experience mood swings it was ridiculous. She wanted to drug the fuck out of me. No I don't have mood swings.. but either way I know it's not borderline either.
It's very obviously psychosis. Yet I cannot handle my mood plumet if Kristen gets a slap on the wrist. While I struggle to sleep, and survive every single day. Depression isn't going to develop but what if Kristen gets away with it and I get depressed about it and it makes it even slightly worse..... that's the problem.
I guess she's going to get paid for a while for being negligent. I could win the case but it's not in my hands.
So I'm just going to start closing my eyes for 5 minutes at a time before max effectiveness and play solitaire until I fight my eyes... I'm going to take a 1 mg tonight at 5 and close my eyes at 7 a.m. I'll try in little intervals before 7...
1 note
·
View note