#ive tried so hard to make friends and have burnt myself out talking to like 100 new people and got nowhere

[autisticlee]

can there be a service for autistic people (maybe even other disabilities too) that's kind of like an aide or helper or assistant, but more of a casual friendly type thing? basically people volunteer to be paired with autistic people who don't have friends and struggle to make them and their job is to be our friend as in go places with us, play games, chat, etc. whatever friends do. but they are contractually obligated to stick with it and not hurt or abandon us, but work with us. maybe invite us to hang out with their friends. we can try different people to see who we best fit with. then maybe that person sticks with one of us and not multiple so they dont play favorites and neglect us or get overwhelmed or something.

it's a volunteer job and they don't get paid because all they're doing is being a friend and doing normal things that doesn't deserve pay lol. why should you get paid to pretend to be someone's friend? do it because you want to support someone who needs you, nit because you think it will be an easy job to make money. and friendship isn't a job. that weeds out people only doing it for money and not trying very hard or quitting when they think it's too hard and abandoning the person they were paired with. and that way it's a free service for us since most of us are poor. but they probably need to get some education as well, and we go over our own specific needs and expectations so they know what we need and expect from them, how to work with us, and what they should expect from us. they could work with counselors so if there are any problems they can't handle and are worried about us, we can get a check in or something. but generally, this would be good for very social and friendly people who like to help others and are open minded, accepting, and kindhearted. (which is getting increasingly hard to find in my experience...)

it would be hard to find the right people, but that's why it's good to have meetups and try to find the right match. because sometimes I think that, even if I dont relate to the neurotypical/allistic/abled people, it might be helpful to have someone who can navigate the social situations for me and let me just follow along and be included in things. someone I can ask to go to a convention with me and they can be my voice and keep me company and lead me, while having fun themselves. or someone who invites me to a party with their friends and let's me mostly ait in their room with their cat, but occasionally step out to listen to their conversation and laugh with them. I can absorb their fun energy and have more fun, feel included, but have the space i need, because they are willing to work with me, support me, and acccept me, my needs, and my boundaries.

other autistic or in general ND and disabled people are cool and all, but when they also struggle like I do, we end up not talking to each other becasue we don't know how or cant. we often don't get along because differences that get in the way ("im autistic and I can do that why don't you just do it too" -a real life example that I experienced) or we cant meet each other's needs or struggle with boundary issues. maybe we both need help and can't help each other. or if the other does help it burns them out so fast they are miserable (like my one friend who always has to speak for me and then shes burnt out for months after and cant even talk to me over text....we used to be so close. now we barely talk 🥲). or they don't want to do the things I want to do, like going out somewhere, and rather watch TV all day when I hate doing that.

it would be nice to have someone to consistently rely on to help me out with doing "normal" things no one else will do with me because i'm too autistic for them, or they are too disabled to deal with me. I know people aren't obligated to be my friend or do things with me. so that's why a "job" for this would be great, so someone IS more obligated to do it. because i'm so incredibly lonely and exhausted and losing my mind over having not a single person to turn to or rely on 🥲

does that make sense?????

[finleyfray]

Bittersweet Memories part 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Huge thanks to @captain-josslett for helping me.

Taglist: @ashadash0904

TW: mentioned drug abuse, language, think that’s all

Alex is sure by now she just hates the medical wing in the DEO. She sits in the hall with Maggie, waiting on more information regarding their girlfriend.

Their girlfriend who overdosed.

Alex wonders where it all went wrong. How did they not see that Finley was struggling? How did they miss that their girlfriend was suicidal? That she was depressed.

Alex sighs as she hugs Maggie closer. The raven-haired woman was silent the whole time and the redhead wishes she could read her thoughts.

“Mags?” She tries but her girlfriend only shakes her head, and goes back to staring at Finley’s door. “Come on, talk to me, I can’t read your mind.”

“I just want this to end.” Maggie whines. “Just go to bed and cuddle and when we wake up, everything will be as it was a few months ago. But again, Fin’s in that fucking room, and we’re here, waiting for anything, any info about her. And I’m just tired. I’m tired of her.”

“You don’t mean that” The redhead gasps.

“No, you’re right. I don’t. I’m just... I don’t know. I thought it was okay and I’m just wondering where it went wrong. Nothing makes sense anymore. There’s so many questions I have. She promised she will let us know when something will be wrong. Are we supposed to watch her like a baby now? How can we leave her on her own, when she just can’t take care of herself? How do you know the next time we leave her she won’t, I don’t know, throw herself out of the window? Because I don’t know, Alex, I just don’t.” Maggie takes a deep breath after her rant, her shoulder slumping as she exhales.

“We don’t know what happened yet Maggie.” Alex sighs too, looking at her. ‘What does she mean? Did she not want Finley anymore?’ Alex thinks worriedly.

“Yeah, she sure thought the pills were some kind of candy.” Her girlfriend huffs.

“You say that like you’re mad at her.”

“I am. I am mad at her because she attempted to take her life away.”

“We weren’t exactly there for her over the last few weeks.”

“So you’re saying it’s our fault?” Maggie frowns, turning to look at Alex.

“No.” Alex huffs slightly, trying to keep her emotions in check. “All I’m saying is, I want to help her. And I’m scared, because I don’t know what’s happening behind that door. I’m scared because my, our girlfriend overdosed on God knows what. And we don’t know where she got it.”

“Ohhhh.” Maggie gasps. “I, well, uhh, when I came home... there was this woman leaving... well I assumed she slept with her... but, umm, maybe she’s her drug dealer...? The other day I saw a text on her phone from an unknown number saying something like ‘I see you tomorrow - V’.”

“And you didn’t think of telling me earlier? You went through her phone.” Alex narrows her eyes slightly while looking at her girlfriend, trying not to get angry.

“I don’t want to assume the worst! How was I supposed to know what that was, the message just pinged, her phone was password protected.”

“She didn’t have a password on her phone the two years we’re dating.” Alex frowns.

The door to Fin’s room opens and her Doctor comes out.

“We did a gastric lavage and washed away all the drugs she had in her system. Looks like she has been taking a lot of them over the past few weeks, her liver is damaged. She woke up for a while and we ran tests. It looks like she has had an infection for some time now. Her temperature is high and she told me that everything hurts. She’s attached to a IV and heart monitor. But for now agent Fray is stable. She fell asleep after we checked her. You can go there if you want.”

“She was sick. And we didn’t even noticed.” Maggie gasps.

“Thank you doctor Hamilton.” Alex nods and looks at her girlfriend.

“You come in?”

“Of course I want to, the fact that I’m mad at her doesn’t mean I don’t care about her anymore.” Maggie looks at her angry.

“Hey, I’m only asking.” Alex shrugs. “We are all tired. And I get it, you’re mad. But she could have died. So I’m going there and I’m going to thank whatever God there is that she made it through. And when she’s out of here, I’m going to stay with her and look after her. Because I don’t want to lose her. I don’t know what I would do if I lose any of you.”

“I don’t want to lose her either.” Maggie sighs. “I love you both, I promise, I just, I’m lost.” Her girlfriend lowers her head and sniffs. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” The redhead embraces the smaller woman in a hug.

“That’s okay if you don’t. We can take it slow day by day. You don’t have to know everything now.” She gently strokes Maggie’s back. “When I went through my alcohol problems, you were there for me. And we did it. So now we just have to do the same with Fin.”

“I totally improvised. I didn’t know what to do, I just did. When I saw that you had the urge to drink, I just occupied you with anything I could think of.”

“And that helped.” The redhead smiles, kissing her girlfriend's forehead. “So we’ll improvise too. It’s not a bad situation. J’onn will give us days off when we want. Or we can switch. We’ll figure it out, okay?” Alex quietly opens the door and enters the room.

She looks at their sleeping girlfriend. This view brought her too many bad memories. Maggie grabs her hand and gives her a reassuring smile.

“Right.” Alex breathes out and they walk to the bed their girlfriend is lying on.

“Hi.” Fin rasps out, looking at them. Her eyes were tired and it was clearly visible that she was in pain.

“Hey, baby. You’re awake!” The raven-haired woman reaches to cup Fin’s cheek, but Alex saw Finley panicking.

Her heart was suddenly beating super-fast and she was breathing hard. Maggie drops her hand as if she was burnt and the redhead cringes. This is not good. She looks at her shorter girlfriend who has a shocked expression on her face, which soon morphs into pain. Maggie blinks fast trying to get rid of her tears and turns away.

“I’m sorry.” Fin chokes out. “I...I didn’t mean to...”

“That’s alright baby.” Alex sighs as she grabs Fins hand and runs her finger over her girlfriend's knuckles. “It’ll be okay. Just breathe.”

***

Finley tried to focus hard on calming her breath. She didn’t want to upset Maggie. She did not want to react that way.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen. I swear I’m not cheating on you, please don’t leave.” She cries out lowering her head and looking at her hands. “I swear, please don’t leave me. I promise I’ll do better.”

“It’s okay Fin, it’s okay, breathe with me.” Fin looks at Alex trying to match her breathing. “In and out. There you go.” Alex smiles reassuringly. “We are not gonna leave you, I promise.” She hugs her girlfriend into her chest running her hand along her back. “It’s going to be okay, we’ll help you.” The redhead motions for Maggie to come closer and the raven-haired woman hesitantly does. She looks at them.

“Come here. It’ll be alright, I promise.” So the shorter woman sits on the bed and let’s Alex hug them both. “We’ll be fine.”

**

Maggie is sitting on a chair watching her sleeping girlfriends. J’onn had ordered the medical team to bring Alex and Maggie beds but Alex had crawled onto Fin’s bed in the middle of night as she saw her tossing around, clearly having a nightmare. The sun was starting to rise and the shorter woman stood up to close the curtains. She needed to talk with her girlfriend, but now wasn’t a good time considering Fin was on strong medications for her infection. The Doctors had to put morphine in her IV to avoid having her take the meds to not annoy her liver more than it is. Maggie just hopes it will be over soon and Fin will be finally healthy. They know she will also need to learn how to walk again as they’ll take her brace off, but that is a problem for the future.

“You’re staring.” Alex says before opening her eyes and looking at Maggie. She yawns and stretches, careful not to disturb Fin.

“Yeah, I totally am. Hi. You slept well?”

“Hey, yea, I think so. Bit sore actually, that’s a tiny space. But warm and cosy.” Maggie watches Alex gently kissing Fin’s forehead and standing up. She goes to sit on Maggie and hugs her.

“You want to go home and maybe take a shower?” Maggie asks.

“No, I’m good. Kara will drop by later and get us some clothes. Or do you want to go?”

“I just want this to be over, you know? We can go home and rest.” Maggie leans her head on Alex’s chest and sighed.

“Me too.”

“Hey...” They turn as they hear Finley speaking quietly.

“Hi.” They both stand up and go to her bed. “How are you feeling?” Alex asks. “I think I’m better. At least nothing hurts yet.” Fin smiles sleepily.

“That’s good, amazing actually.” Alex smiles too and Fin tries to sit up. “Woo, Easy there.” Alex rushed to help their girlfriend.

“It’s alright. We should probably talk.”

“Yes, I want to apologise.” Maggie begins dropping her head in shame. “I really should not have lashed out like that. I know that it’s a lame excuse, but I had a really bad day and I think I just snapped seeing that woman leaving our apartment. I know you wouldn’t cheat on us, I just don’t know what happened.” She feels Fin grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.”

“But you should be! You tried to kill yourself because of me!” The raven-haired woman breaks down and begins to sob.

“I did not! Hey, look at me. Both of you. I’m sorry. I didn’t actually tried to kill myself, it was stupid of me. I’ve just been in much pain lately. It began 2 weeks ago, everything was hurting and I couldn’t think straight, so I took more medicine that was prescribed. I know I should've told you, but I didn’t want to bother you. But the meds wore off too fast by the time, so I took more, and then I just was sleeping the whole time and woke up to only take more medicine. But it wasn’t actually helping me. And well, that woman was an old friend, she fixed some pills for me, but she said these one I took were double dosage. I didn’t actually believe her, so I took too much and... I didn’t really want this to end like that. I’m sorry.” Alex sighs and hugs them both.

“We need to work on your communication Fin. You have to tell us about these things. But also we should’ve noticed it. And you...” She looked at Maggie. “Need to blow off your steam before going home. We need therapy after all of this. All of us.

***

Finley sighs as she is sitting on her bed in the DEO. Across her sat a woman, her name was Kelly and she was their new therapist.

As Alex said a few days ago, they needed therapy. But Fin had zero desire to talk to that woman, in fact, she already hated her for the way she kept looking at Alex. Like she wanted to steal her. And Fin will be damned if she ever let’s that happen.

“So, Finley. We can sit here in silence or we can talk about what’s going on your head.” Kelly tries to start a conversation but Fin frowns.

“How do you know MY girlfriend?” The black-haired woman almost growled seeing the smirk that displays on Kelly’s face. ‘Keep it cool. The key is to gather info.’

“So you might not know it yet, but James Olsen is my brother. I met Alex a few years ago and helped her with her drinking problem. Unfortunately I had to move away for a while as I’m also an army therapist. But now I’m back and Alex asked me if I could help you three figure things out.”

“When was that? When did you meet her?”

“It was four years ago. I met her when she started to date Maggie.”

‘So she never got the chance. But with everything that happened she can try and steal Alex from me. From us. Or maybe she’ll steal both of them. Yea, as soon as she realises how fucked up I am, she’s going to tell them and she’s going to steal them. I can’t talk to her. Under any circumstances. Play it cool Fin.’

“That’s nice.” Finley nods as she stares at the woman.

“So how are you feeling today?” Fin wants to laugh at how Kelly was still trying to start a conversation with her.

“Good.” Fin says tensely.

“Good?”

“Yes. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need therapy when I don’t have any problems. You should totally focus on Maggie and Alex.”

“I can’t help you if you won’t share what’s bothering you. And I have to speak individually with all of you before we can have a conversation altogether. So if you want to help them, you have to let me in.” Finley huffs, growing frustrated. She was fine, she didn’t need help from some therapist wanna be that wanted to destroy her relationship.

“I don’t need help from you! You just want to steal them from me! They’ll realise they can have better than me and they're gonna leave me! You just need to know how fucked I am to go and tell them... and tell them to leave me! You’re not trying to help me, you’re trying to destroy me!” She sobs as she hugs her pillow. “I can’t do this without them. Don’t steal them away... Please...”

“Finley, I’m not trying to steal them away from you-”

“Bullshit! I saw how you were looking at Alex!” She yells interrupting Kelly.

“Alex is my best friend. And I’m married.” Kelly says calmly.

“O...oh...” Finley frowns and looks at her.

“M...married...?” “Yes, I have a wife, Finley, a beautiful wife that I love very much and she’s carrying my baby.”

“Ohhh...” Fin looks at the woman trying to wipe her tears away. “Congratulations...”

“So believe me when I’m saying I don’t want to steal your girlfriends from you. And even if I wanted, that would be impossible, because these two are just so in love with you.” Fin fidgets uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry... for yelling at you. I’m just so scared they’ll leave me someday.” “Why do you think that?” Kelly asks while grabbing her notepad and her pen.

“Well, I’m useless. I can’t do things myself with the brace on. I can’t work. I don’t even cook well. I can’t help them at work, I’m just forced to stay at home. What if something happens and I’m not even there to protect them!?” Fin cries out.

“You’re scared that something will happen to them?” “Of course I am scared. I’ve never had anyone so close to me in my life. Maggie and Alex, but also all of their friends, Kara, and Eliza, who treats me like her own child. If I ever lose them, any of them...” Fin falters.

“Do they know your fears?” Kelly looks at her.

“No, why would they. I will look desperate. They’ll just be with me out of pity.”

“You need to communicate more. I know they told you that too. Because communication is the key. They are not able to always see what’s wrong and this can cause situations where you are bottling everything inside and they think you’re fine. They won’t be able to help you when you don’t let them in. We can work on that more in our group session. You’re not alone in this and they’re there to help you to reassure you that they are not going anywhere.”

“You think they won’t leave me?” Finley looks at her therapist with hope.

“I know for a fact that they won’t leave you. But that I’ll leave for them to tell you.” Kelly nods and looks out of the window. “You feel insecure now. You feel left out cause you have to stay home. But at the end of the day, they come home to you. Not anyone else. They come home to your arms. You need to look at it from their perspective. Your girlfriends are working and no matter how much they love their job, they miss you there too. So after their shift the first thing they want is to see you. Relax together and cuddle. I know that from what they told me but also it’s what I am doing. After my shift I go home and cuddle my wife. I lay my head and listen to the heartbeat of my child.”

“You’re really excited to be a mother?”

“I am.” Kelly smiles brightly. “We tried for a long time and we had to do a lot of treatments. I came home from work one day and she gave me a onesie with ‘I love my moms' written on it. I cried.”

“How far is she?” Finley was genuinely curious about it. While she didn’t think of having kids herself yet, she could wait for a chance to be an aunt.

“Five months.” The woman beams.

“Boy or a girl?” “We didn’t want to know. We’re making everything gender neutral. We only care and pray that this little person will be healthy. I secretly pray that they will have their mothers green eyes.”

“We’ll I’m crossing my fingers for you.” Finley smiles and wipes away her tears. Talking about Kelly’s kid calmed her down.

“Do you want children?” Kelly looks at her. “I don’t know yet. I really haven’t thought about it. I’ve never actually seen a baby up close. I’ll just settle for a chance I will be an aunt. Maybe someday Kara and Lena will have kids. Or maybe James and Lucy. I would love to have a dog though.”

“What kind?”

“A Husky. No, a Labrador. Or maybe a Golden Retriever? German Shepherd. Chow-chows are very fluffy! Border Collie? I don’t know, I want all of them!” Both women laugh. “I just love dogs so much. I’ve never had one, but they are the best!”

“Well did you talk about it with your girlfriends?”

“No... I don’t want to bother them. What if they don’t want a dog? Or what if they want a cat? This would be the worst.” She frowns.

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You wouldn’t know if you don’t ask. So we can make that your assignment. You talk to your girlfriends about getting a dog. Do we have a deal?”

“But...”

“Do we?” Kelly held out her hand.

“Yeah.” Finley gently shakes it. “I’ll try to talk to them. Thank you.”

“It’s getting late. I’ll come tomorrow and you’ll tell me if your girlfriends want a dog or not, okay?”

“Wait, I have to talk to them today!?” Finley gasps. This woman tricked her.

“You can do it. See you tomorrow.” Kelly stands up from chair and leaves her room.

“Bye...” The black-haired woman whines. ‘This is going to be fun…’.

***

Finley opens her eyes and yawns. She must’ve fallen asleep after Kelly left.

“Hey sleepyhead.” She looked at Alex and smiled. “Was that a good nap?”

“Hi. It was. Kelly exhausted me.” Fin reaches for the redhead’s hand and squeezes. Her girlfriend stands up from the chair and sits on Finley’s bed instead.

“How did it go?” Her girlfriend kisses her forehead and embraces her in a hug.

“Good.”

“Good? Why do you look like you cried the whole session?” Alex raises her brow and Fin scolds herself. Communication.

“Uhh... Where’s Maggie?” She looks around the room, but her other girlfriend was nowhere to be found.

“She’s picking up some food. She’ll be here any minute. You will tell us what’s going on?” “No, cause that’s embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing?” Maggie asks, entering the room with a bag of take out.

“I’m embarrassed. Hi Mags.” Fin smiles as her girlfriend comes closer, putting the food on the table near her bed and reaching to kiss her cheek. “What do you have there?”

“Well for a difference I have ordered some Italian food.” The raven-haired woman reaches in the bag and gives them a container with food.

They eat in silence and Finley thinks of the best way to talk to them. When they were finished, they all lay on the bed. There wasn't much space so Fin lay on Alex and Maggie lay beside them with her hand over both of them.

“I want a dog.” Finley finally mumbles into Alex’s chest.

“What? We can’t hear you when you’re talking to my boobs.” The redhead laughs and Fin lifts her face from Alex’s chest. “Tell us again.” The black-haired woman sighs and she closes her eyes.

“I want a dog.” Her voice trembles.

“Oh, what kind of dog?” Maggie asks.

“What?” Finley looked at her shocked.

“Like a small dog, a big dog, buying a puppy or adopting from a shelter?”

“I know what you asked, I just... I expected you to say no.” She frowns.

“Why? We want you to be happy. Plus you barely want anything, ever, so I think it’s an amazing plan.” The redhead kisses her forehead.

“I just... didn’t want to be a bother.”

“You are not a bother. It’s okay to want something.” Maggie reaches to cup her cheek and the younger woman flinches.

“Sorry.” The black-haired woman takes Maggie’s hand. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Finley sighs and lifts her girlfriend's hand onto her cheek. “And I don’t know what kind of dog yet. There are so many amazing dogs I just can’t choose. But would you want a dog?”

“Yes, I wanted a dog for some time now.” Alex smiles.

“We are not naming our dog Gertrude.” Maggie laughs.

“You wanted to name your dog Gertrude!?” The black-haired woman laughs looking at the frowning redhead.

“It’s a very nice name for a dog!”

“Yeah, I bet it is. Gertrude I hereby command you to come here.” Finley says in her best serious tone.

“Hey, stop being an ass.” Alex starts tickling her and Fin laughs loudly.

“Okay, okay, stop! Maggie help!” But instead of helping, her raven-haired girlfriend teams up with the redhead. Tickling Finley till she cries from laughing. Only then did they stop.

“I love you.” Fin says as she lays her head on Alex’s chest.

“I love you two too.” The redhead kisses her head. “Sleep well baby.”

“And I love you both.” Maggie whispers and hugs them tight.

Finley focused on their breathing as she falls asleep.

[chocoholicannanymous]

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) pt VIII

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, part VI. and pt VII.

Readjusting to life at Dalton is a lot easier than Kurt had feared. It helps that he isn't scared witless this time, of course. It also helps that Blaine isn't there to monopolize his time – which, in hindsight, had been the root of a lot of Kurt's isolation. Now he's got the Warblers for real, and Sebastian. He's also got a much better understanding of what it'll take to keep on top of academics, and how much he can allow himself to relax. He hadn't known that last time.

(There's a nagging thought that Blaine must have known, yet said nothing, that refuses to leave his brain. It's not a pleasant one.)

Another difference is that this time Kurt's not looking to return to McKinley. Last time he'd wasted valuable time and energy trying to come up with a way to return, and daydreaming about being back. This time's different. He chose Dalton this time, and he's staying no matter what.

Also, things being what they are he's not spending large chunks of his time with Mercedes and Rachel. From what Finn reports Rachel is furious – that Kurt's left, that he's not getting punished for the election and that he's left them another person down for Sectionals. Kurt's okay with that, seeing as she hadn't exactly been a great friend before he left. As for her rantings, well. If she spreads the cheating rumors too far Kurt'll deal with it – or his dad will – and the rest is easy to ignore.

He does miss Mercedes, but at the same time he's not willing to bend enough to fix things between them. Not this time.

She didn't believe in him.

It's that simple. He was on the verge of suspension, and Mercedes didn't believe in him. She wasn't even enough of a friend to pretend she did in public. Adding her behavior over Blaine's disappearance and West Side Story.... It's up to her to make the first move, and there's nothing guaranteeing their friendship can be salvaged in the end.

So instead of spending time and energy on the mess that is the New Directions – because even with the split that's who they are – Kurt throws himself into making the most of his time at Dalton.

“I'm sorry we can't give you a solo.”

Kurt stares at Sebastian. A solo? Where did that come from? Because honestly, Kurt hadn't expect one, nor had he entirely decided if he should audition for one or not.

“We talked about it and we all know you could use it, and none of us is applying to performing arts' schools. It's simply too close to Sectionals for us to rework our setlist. Not if we want to go on to Regionals. If we do though, then we've agreed that you get a solo.”

There's a hint of pink on Sebastian's cheeks, but Kurt doesn't have the energy to try and analyze that now. It's probably Sebastian's way of apologizing or something.

“Auditions?”

“Right. I guess that this is when I tell you that the Warblers have changed how things are run. Used to be someone auditioned, and then the council decided. Only everyone knew that auditions pretty much were a sham. David and Thad admitted as much themselves, once the others started pushing. After all, it is kind of hard to pretend auditions matter when the person ending up with all the solos never even participated in the auditions in the first place.”

Which... True. Kurt just never thought the Warblers would become aware enough to see that. Maybe it's a side-effect of Wes being gone. Him and his cursed gavel...

“So now the council is gone, and everyone gets a vote on solos. And this time everyone agreed that if we make it to Regionals it was only fair to offer you a spot.”

And well, that changes things. Hopefully.

“Well, it's much appreciated either way. It's a little too late to add a Regionals solo on my NYADA application but I should be able to add it to some of the others.”

Because he is applying to other schools, regardless of what he and Rachel agreed to. Only applying to one school? Insanity. Especially a school like NYADA, which accept only 60 students per year, and only 20 of them for the concentration Kurt (and Rachel) had applied for. What if they doesn't accept him, then what? Was he supposed to stay in Lima and reapply? Spend a year or several working at the garage or in some store while his meager CV became more and more dust-covered by the minute?

No. He's applying to every school in New York that'll suit him – and a few that won't – plus another couple elsewhere. He's even considering throwing in an application to Ohio State, since the campus in Columbus offers a couple of options when it comes to theater and music. Not that he wants to stay in Ohio, not really, but he'll go just about anywhere as long as it's not Lima.

“Well, dreaming about Regionals is all very nice, but we're not there yet. Also, there are other things to consider as well, like passing all my classes. You wouldn't be willing to lend me your notes for French for a night or two, would you? Oh, and I'm not sure I interpreted the third question for our advanced reading homework correctly, so do you think we could sit down and talk it over?”

It's easier to focus on schoolwork, on grammar and linguistics, than on the strangeness of Sebastian's actions. Much easier.

Sectionals comes and goes – and leaves a trophy behind. The Warblers celebrate, and Kurt with them. If his joy is also about the possibility of a solo... Well. Who can blame him?

That is, of course, if what Sebastian said still goes. There's no reason to think it shouldn't, not really, but Kurt remembers being burnt too well to not be cautious.

Regardless, they won't be competing against the New Directions at Regionals. The Troubletones had wiped the floor with their former teammates, and Kurt can't say he's surprised. Finn isn't either, even if it's obvious that he's unhappy about it. Oh, he tries to hide it, but. He's used to winning, loves it, and was already thinking about how to do better at Nationals than last years.

And now that's not going to happen.

“They deserved it, I don't care what anyone” read Rachel “thinks. I know how much they've been rehearsing.”

And the New Directions, true to form, hadn't. Or so Kurt supposes. After all, they hadn't had a setlist when he left, and Finn hasn't complained about suddenly ending up with a ton of extra rehearsals.

“Finn? I know they are good, but I also know you guys are. And it's okay if you're not happy about losing, even to them. It sucks to lose something you really want and losing to your friends doesn't make it easier. Not at first at least.”

“Experience talking, huh?”

“Mmmmmmm.”

Kurt still remembers how it'd hurt to lose to his friends, and not even going back to them had made it feel better. He'd gone to Nationals feeling that he didn't deserve it, and knowing that Mr Schue thought the same.

“You know what really sucks about all of this? We had a suggestion for a setlist that would have given us the win. Michael Jackson songs, solos for everyone... I think it would have been awesome.”

“Let me guess, Rachel flipped.”

It's not even a question, because obviously she would have. Allowing everyone solos? No matter how small, that would have meant less time in the spotlight for her. Just as it wouldn't have mattered how great the suggested songs were, because Michael Jackson isn't something Rachel would be able to do well.

And of course Mr Schue would have folded faster than wet cardboard once she started complaining, neither of them caring that by catering to Rachel's demands they weakened the group.

“Oh yeah. And now she's on a 'woe is me because NYADA' tear, and it's driving me insane. Well, everyone. I'm pretty sure Tina's on the verge of punching her. Plus, she... Anyway, Glee sucks now.”

“She's blaming me, isn't she? For leaving, and for supposedly making Blaine leave.”

It makes sense, in a totally-not-unless-you're-Rachel-Berry way, and it's nothing less than Kurt's been expecting if he's honest. Because there's no way Rachel would ever lose gracefully, just as there's no way she'd accept the rightful blame for having messed up.

“You guessed that, huh? Yeah, sorry. I don't know what's gotten into her, I swear.”

“She's being the worst version of herself. I knew I made myself a target by leaving, I just didn't care. Then again I already was one, so I guess that's 'bigger' target. And I can't imagine she took it any better knowing that the Warblers won our Sectionals.”

Kurt can practically hear Finn wince over the phone, which is never an encouraging thing – and yet, much too frequent with Rachel Berry in the picture.

“I...might have told her that I wouldn't talk to her about it, and walked out the door when she did it anyway?”

Kurt removes the phone from his ear, stares at it, shakes it to see if anything is broken inside, stares at it again and then replaces it.

“I'm sorry, you what? Are you telling me you finally located your balls when it comes to a girl?”

And then it's Kurt's time to audibly wince, because while true that's also extremely rude – and crude – and Finn doesn't deserve it. Not even though it's true.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Nah, it's nothing I don't deserve. I just, I've had it okay? I love Rachel, I do, but sometimes I'm not so sure I like her. And the past few weeks have been worse than usual. When we got back together it was supposed to be for this year, since she's going to New York after graduation. Which I figured I could get around, you know? Part of me wants to ask her to marry me and commit to going to New York with her. Another part figured it'll never work since she can't respect anything or anyone outside of herself and her dreams.

“She only changed her mind about sex because Artie told her she wasn't credible onstage otherwise, and she didn't even tell me at first. Then she's been an absolute bitch about everything with you. So let's say I change her mind and we get married. What else will she do?

“I'm not sure about being with her at all anymore, and it's not breaking my heart like it should.”

Hearing that? Kind of breaks Kurt's heart though. Once upon a time he'd have been ecstatic to hear something like this from Finn. Now he's grown beyond that, and all he wants for Finn is happiness. (That he's not sure Rachel can provide that isn't really the point. Up until now Finn has believed it, and that's the only thing that matters.)

“I'm sorry. Do you... I'll be home Friday evening. Want me to bring some cookies and watch a movie, or do you have plans?”

“Peanut butter chocolate chips? Plus, Captain America comes out on DVD this week, and I know you like Chris Evans.”

“I really really do.”

They both laugh, and if Finn's is a bit strained neither of them are going to admit it. What's important here is that regardless of everything they've got each other.

[amuelle]

Uninvited and drunk….

I’ve thought about it too much. I know it won’t go the way I hope it will. I’m already siting on the coach regretting everything I did to get here but I’m glad I came. I wanted to see him so badly my heart ached. I couldn’t just leave. He couldn’t be ok with me leaving without saying good bye. I needed to tell him how I felt but I’ve had too much wine. Way, way too much wine. Red wine! The dry kind that should be drank on vacation and not on a Sunday night while contemplating what to do with your half broken heart. Half whole because I want to love him. I do but I don’t. It’s confusing. I really just wanted to look in his eyes...

The back story

February 2016…

Maseru had not been kind to me. When my sister changed cities I thought it was a great opportunity for me. Construction out there was/is LIT. All my friends from varsity were out there making a killing, why couldn’t I???? After lamenting for weeks, I decided to move. I told my wolf pack and we rallied up for a glass or two of wine.

We watched a beautiful sunset, toasting to my new beginnings. I was leaving the next day. Excited and sad. I enjoyed what I thought would be one of the last moments with my wolf pack (I was wrong). Three bottles of wine later the courage came to me. Dark Adonis came to mind. After a year of a situationship how could he not be moved that I was leaving? I wanted to see him. I wasn’t his girlfriend but me being me, I had to see him. The wine was now more delicious than it was when we began and I had the bright idea to get My Light Skinned Love to drive me to his place…

Me: Take me to Dark Adonis’s place. I’ll love you forever if you do.

My Light Skinned Love: You already love me forever babes. I am not taking you there. Does he even know you are coming? He could be with someone else.

Me: I know, but I still want to go. When have I ever asked you for anything? I never ask! I’m asking for this and this is the last thing I will ever ask from you…

My Light Skinned Love: This is a terrible idea!

Me. Yes, but I still want to go. Will you take me? Please say yes, please please please say yes.

My Light skinned love: Ive been in love, you are in love. I’ll take you, just know that I know this won’t end well.

Me: I know, thank you. I still want to go…

After all the things we had been through he knew I needed to go and that my soul wouldn’t be at ease if I didn’t. The sun had set. For a moment it felt like we were on a road trip to somewhere exciting. We were young enough to be carefree and old enough not to be reckless. A left turn then a right turn. My Light Skinned Love parked on the side of the road. We had arrived. I left my bag in My Light Skinned Loves car in case things didn’t go my way. I had asked him to stay until we were sure I wasn’t being blatantly rejected. I didn’t want to be at Dark Adonis’s door standing outside crying waiting for a cab because he shut the door in my face.

I had wanted to change my mind five minutes after we left but I was here. What was the worst thing that could happen? Even if the worst thing happened, I’d cry, be hurt, re-evaluate but I’d have no regrets and a great story to tell.  Dark Adonis….All the half-hearted affection we gave. All the effort we could have possibly put in but didn’t. All the lies he didn’t have to tell and all the distance I insisted on keeping. It was all for nothing. Nothing is worse than knowing the risk is worth the reward but never taking the risk. I remembered the first time I laid eyes on him, the first time he kissed me. Now I was at his door in the middle of the night on a Sunday drunk and ungovernable.

I stumbled to the door. The lights were off and a small part of me hoped he wasn’t home. The countless times I’d been here he had always opened the door. I had had 15 whole minuets to talk myself out of this but I hadn’t. All that was left was to follow through. Did I really want to though?? Deep breath. I knew one thing for certain at that moment. This was a terrible idea. I knocked anyway. I figured he was asleep in his bedroom and I should knock on the window. I didn’t know which window it was, so I knocked on all of them. Stomping the flowers in the flower beds I could tell the soil was wet. The gardener always came on Sundays.

The lights came on. I could hear him making his way to the front door. Then it hit me. (It was the middle of the night and I was walking in this man’s flower beds…WHAT IN THE HOLY HELL WAS I DOING?? I was uninvited and drunk!))

I had every opportunity to run but regardless of what common sense and self-preservation were saying to me. I still wanted to be there. I needed to see HIM!!! I scrambled back to the door, almost tripping over the stoep.

I straightened myself up seconds before the door opened and our eyes locked. I wanted apologise and run away but it was too late. He had seen me. I must have looked a hot mess. Part shock, part surprise but mostly baffled it was hard to read his facial expression.

Me: Do you have visitors?

Dark Adonis: No…

Me: Can I come in?

Dark Adonis: Yes.

Me: Wait right here….

I dashed back to the car to get my bag. My Light Skinned Love asked me one last time if I was ok and sure. I was. Once inside sat on the couch, my mind started to race. I felt like this might be the night. I might just say what I really needed him to hear.

The wine had given me courage I had never imagined. It had made me everything except reasonable. Perhaps he didn’t love me, perhaps he wanted someone else and perhaps he was being nice so he can get me to leave. I hoped he would understand but if he didn’t. I’d live.

I learnt a very important lesson that night. Before you get the liquid courage to go to his place in the middle of the night to declare your undying love. Before you take it upon yourself to sweep under the rug all his aloofness and before you are standing at his door having to explain yourself. Make sure you have a friend like My Light Skinned Love who will tell you the truth and support you through your madness.

Another friend would have just said NO. They wouldn’t have taken me there and transferred the issues I had with Dark Adonis to an issue between us. Sometimes you need to touch the stove to know it’s hot. You also need someone like My Light Skinned Love to tell you not to do it but be there when you are burnt, to put ointment on you and tell you it’s gonna be okay. To quote My Light Skinned Love “That’s what friends should do, when you break up, when you love him, I’m there! My role is just to be there for you and support you.” Trust me, you need a friend like this. You also need to be a friend like this.

Dark Adonis and I never dated. I never told him how I felt. I ASSUMED how i felt wouldn't change his mind. So much happened after that night. The chemistry was there but neither one of us ever made a move. Maybe we weren’t the people we both needed to be together. We talk on occasion. Whenever I see him we catch up. I’m always interested to know if he is still the person I once knew, if he wears his glasses more because he knows he is blind. (Giggles in long standing crush). The door is closed but damn, we would have been a gorgeous couple and made cute babies. I hope that all exists in an alternate universe. In this one we just respect each other for what we once were to each other.

It’s not giving up if you tried it and it didn’t work…

Bisou…bisou

[humansofap]

I drive up Springwood Ave. to Ridge on a sunny September morning. The streets are virtually deserted and the empty lots and buildings look foreboding. I am on my way to meet Barsheen Ridout, a 57-year-old, long-time resident of Asbury Park who I befriended while taking street photos. He stopped me in front of the barbershop and asked me about my camera. We got to talking about photography and Asbury Park in general. When I told him about my project, he was suspicious, maybe even angry. His exact words were “What I want to know is why a little white girl gives a shit about the west side of Asbury Park and the people who live here!” I had prepared myself for a question like this, but was taken aback at how much I had upset him. I tried to explain how I felt that all stories need to be told and I wanted to help tell them. This seemed to assuage him a bit, and he begrudgingly agreed to meet with me to be interviewed.

I had asked him to pick a spot in Asbury Park that had the most meaning to him, and he told me to meet him at his childhood home on Ridge Ave., which is where I am headed now. I pull up to the house and Barsheen is waiting for me with a wistful look on his face. He tells me this house brings back so many memories. It was his aunt’s home and he lived with her on and off throughout the 60’s and 70’s. His life has not been easy but the times he spent in this house with his aunt were happy ones. Looking back, he realizes this home in Asbury Park was a safe haven for him.

“I lived here from when I was very little until I was 9. Both my parents were IV drug users. Dopers. My father was a pickpocket and my mother did anything he told her to do. It was in my blood, in my family’s blood. So my aunt was raising me. When I was 9, me and my sister decided to run away to go live with my parents in New York. We moved to Harlem and ended up living in 4 different places over 5 years. We were gypsies. Within the 5 years a lot of stuff happened. My father was in jail for shooting somebody. And then the same guy that killed my mother stabbed me. So my father was in the penitentiary and mother was dead and us kids had no one. So I came back to Asbury and my aunt’s house when I was 14.

I came back after the riots. Everything was so different. It was amazingly different. Sometimes I feel a little disconnected and connected to this place. It’s hard for me to say but every time I came back there was something new. It’s an interesting perspective because I wasn’t always here but I always came back.”

We decided to walk around a little so Barsheen can describe what the neighborhood looked like when he was growing up. There is an empty lot next to his aunt’s house that he tells me there used to be full of trees and the kids would call it “the woods” and play in it. He points out a house across the street and tells me it used to be a candy shop owned by Puerto Ricans. As he talks, I can see that the memories are transporting Barsheen to a different time and he gets more animated as he points out different buildings, recalling his old neighborhood.

 “These all used to be older houses but they all got knocked down and built over. My aunt used to send me to the store around the corner. There used to be a gas station right here. Lake Ave. is a whole lot different than it was back then. The whole avenue was full of stores. That used to the be nun’s home and the catholic hall. There was a church on the other corner.”

 We walk up Lake Ave. and it is hard to imagine the bustling neighborhood he is describing. Barsheen points to one of the very few businesses that are open.

 “That liquor store been there forever, since I can remember. See there are 3 things you can count on in a poverty-stricken area. Liquor stores, churches, and laundromats. Those things will always be there in low income areas. That shit right there’s been killing us for a long time. Because you won’t find that in suburbs. You can’t walk to the liquor store in the suburbs, you gotta get in your car and drive there. But in every inner-city poverty stricken community, you can walk to numerous liquor stores. That fires me up. I used to frequent the store a whole lot in the 80’s. Now understanding the science of control and conditioning, about how the establishment that kills a community can stay in the same spot for the past 40 years makes me understand it a little more. None of it is owned by members of the community. Indians run the liquor store. In the 60’s Caucasians owned it. In the 80’s they took it over. Now I’m not talking about the owners. I’m talking about the condition of the institution. That they can come to a place like this and profit. The circumstances and situations.”

 As he speaks, he raises his voice and is growing more and more upset. A man on a bicycle rides past us and stops to stare. Barsheen tells him “peace” and assures him we are fine, and he rides away slowly. We are standing in front of a non-descript building and I notice that Barsheen is looking up at the second floor.

“Up top here used to be a gambling club called the 54 House. From when I can remember till the late 80’s. I remember it when I was a kid, then I remember when I was old enough to go in it. We’d play cards, shoot dice, it was a social place for the community. Even in the 70’s when I was a teenager the block was alive. It was a construction town. There were a whole lot more people and whole lot more buildings. This was the construction man’s and the common man’s place to socialize. They had a charter from the city to have a social club.”

I am curious about what police presence was like at that time and whether they were ever shut down.

“They [54 House] did illegal activity, however the guy who ran it for years, who was called Rayfield, was partners with a guy called Artesia Moore. He [Moore] was an ex police officer and he married into a family that owned the Arking lounge. He worked for the gangsters. When his father in law passed away, Artesia’s wife gave him the racket for the town. So him and Rayfield ran it. This was left alone by the cops. They were left alone as long as no drugs were involved. I’m not sure what happened to it [54 House]. I left Asbury for a while and when I came back it just wasn’t there no more”

We decide move our conversation to Kula café, a block away. Big glass windows afford us a great view of Lake Ave. We are right down the block from 2nd Baptist church was where Barsheen was baptized. He tells me it was THE church back then. He tells me it’s where “all the uppity people went.”

He tells me that the café we are sitting in used to be a drug store. There used to be a bar across the street called the Turf Club in the 50’s and 60’s. It was home to many famous performers including the then up and coming Clarence Clemmons. He tells me that both sides of the street were full of bars and lounges. There was the Paramount Pool Hall. It used to be a movie theater until Barsheen’s cousin, Robin Hill bought it and turned it into a pool room. On the other side of the block was Cuba’s bar.

“My aunt Evelyn Smith, worked there, she was barmaid. The husband was Cuba and the wife was Mini. When the gangsters came down to Asbury and they would bring black folks with them, they would break the glasses afterward. [They didn’t want to keep glasses that black folks had drank out of] So my aunt would ask if she could take them home instead. So she had a whole collection of glasses.”

I am slightly taken about by this. I am trying to understand the demographics of the west side at that time. I ask if the neighborhood was mixed.

“In the 60’s a lot of Italians owned things, like all those stores we call bodegas now. The paramount was a black club, the turf club was black too. Cuba’s was not. It was the elite. The borderline was the railroad track and Asbury Ave. Past there you didn’t find too many black people in the 60’s. If you went to Cookman Ave., you knew you had to act right. You knew you were someplace special. You better act right in the white folk’s shit. Cuz the borderline was the goddamn tracks. Then the riots happened in the 70’s. After everything was burnt down, there was a portion of Lake Ave. that was left empty on both sides. It never got rebuilt. Recently they built a few homes on both sides. Maybe in the 90s. But it’s never been the same.”

Barsheen tells me that in the 90’s there were black-run businesses in Downtown Asbury Park, which are all gone now; a result of gentrification.

“They had Freeman’s bakery and a black woman ran it. Bond St. and Cookman, that whole side was run by black people. There was a deli on the corner, then a barber shop, then the Jamaican guy’s clothing store. Then they pushed him out by raising the rents and now he’s in Collingswood barely making a living. They pushed everybody out!”

I want to know what growing up in Asbury Park was like for him and how it affected him personally.

“This whole area right here was all lower income. This was all stores and above them were tenements. So when I came back in 79’ that’s when I was hustling. My whole crew was doing it. I would stand on this corner right here and I could see all the way down this block. I could see all the way to the bar and I could see everybody hanging out there. And I’d get butterflies all in my stomach. I was going to that corner, it was my destination. I was going to sell drugs; I knew it was dangerous. And I’ve never told anybody this but every time I did it I was so scared. A lot of my friends died or are in prison. Yeah a lot of them. My father and mother were both dopers. I sold drugs all my life, in and out of the penitentiary. Then I finally went through recovery and got clean and identified that it’s a disease. Part of it was hereditary.”

I wonder out loud if he feels like this is a continuing problem in Asbury Park.

“That’s a really complex topic. Parents passing it on might have a lot to do with it. There’s a documentary and the guy phrased it so well he said “We didn’t bring the guns here, we didn’t bring the drugs here, we didn’t invent no poverty, we didn’t invent racism. But you hold us guilty when we can’t rise above it.”

My oldest daughter for example, is an accomplished lawyer living in Voorhees in a beautiful home. She came from right here. Both her parents were drug users. She was raised in the same house in the same environment as my step son. He’s still bumping his head. So environment plays a part but it also doesn’t. If we had more resources dedicated to us, we would have a better chance to succeed. I’m not holding to the environment 100%. The cocaine epidemic of the 80’s destroyed us [the black community]. Every block had a crack house. Everybody in this community was smoking. It affected everything very badly. That effected the next generation. I’m a survivor of it. I know people in the penitentiary for life because of it. I have close friends who died because of it. My mother’s dead because of it. This isn’t something I read about, it’s something I’ve lived.

I’ve been pondering on your question you asked me the other day about how we feel about the gentrification. One: why would you want to be someplace where they don’t want you anyway? And two: if you don’t own anything in the community, the community ain’t yours. It’s who owns it who has the voices when they go to town meetings. There are very few black people that own houses. If you own something you have a voice. But most don’t own. If you don’t own it, it isn’t yours. You and I both know this. Change in constant. And sometimes change is good. Because at one time, in this town everybody knew everybody. Is it all bad? No. This place we’re sitting in is a good change. People died for me to have the right to vote. Medgar Evers died registering people to vote. But I don’t think my vote honestly makes a goddamn difference.”

I ask if he feels like he has emotionally detached himself from Asbury Park. He seems conflicted in that he says he won’t stay some place he feels like he is not wanted, but at the same time this is his home.

“I guess it’s a paradox. It’s hard to explain. No I haven’t [emotionally detached]. I have a son here who just had a son here. I have other family in this city too. I’m 57 years old. I haven’t survived anywhere else but in the hood. This is all I remember and know. This is my home.”

I ask him if he hopes his son stays and builds a life in Asbury Park. And he replies that he hopes he does not. Barsheen wants his son to see the bigger world, see beyond this town. He says he sees too many of the young people here get caught up in it. The ones that might fall victim to the environment. He believes that success means a lot of different things to different people. It has a lot to do with ambition.

“My son lives with his sister, in the same household. His sister is doing really well in school and already has college credits. My son is always with the boys, he’s a member of the Olds. He’s got a job. He gangster raps. He graduated by the skin of his teeth.”

I’m finding it interesting that the girls seem to be more motivated that the boys and I ask if he feels the same way. He says that he knows both men and women who he grew up with who have succeeded in life and built names for themselves in the community. But he admits that the women do tend to do better.

 I ask him why he thinks that is. He gets very quiet, and the silence stretches across the table and engulfs us.

I am not leaving without an answer and I dare to ask again, “why?”

Barsheen’s eyes fill with tears and his voice shakes as he finally replies.

“Do you know that the black man is an endangered species in this country? They kill them when they want to. Trying to kill our hopes, our dreams, our spirit, our ambitions. And then when they can’t do that they put a bullet in our head. What you talking about WHY. You want to keep it for real? You asked me why? Why? That’s why.”

[ghostlywritten]

When I Was Your Man V.

Words: 5k

Thanks for all the reviews, likes and comments that I’ve received in private. It gives me a lot of encouragement.

.I  II III  IV

Literally my face whenever I read a comment:

“Addy, wake up,” a voice whispered, shaking my shoulder. I jerked awake, taking a moment to realise that I was seated in a car.

Blinking, I rubbed my sleep-heavy eyes and looked out, “Where are we?”

“At the airport,” Antoine responded with a chuckle, “Did you forget already? We’re flying to Russia today.”

“Ah right,” I nodded, turning away from him, “Wake me up when we’re there.”

My drift to sleep was yet again disturbed when Antoine started tickling me, “Get up, I’m not carrying you around.”

I pouted, “I’m not heavy, I promise.”

He rolled his eyes, “You can sleep during the flight. Get your lazy ass up.” Grumbling to myself, I complied, getting out of the car and shivering slightly from the fresh morning air. It couldn’t even be called morning, it was only 5 am!

“Why is it so early?” I complained, trudging towards the back of the car where my husband was getting the suitcases out.

“It’s easier to avoid fans this way. Though I would favour them to your complaining...”

“What?” I hissed with narrowed and he immediately threw up his hands in defense, “Nothing! I just said you look beautiful in the morning light.”

Knowing full well that wasn’t what he had said I grabbed my suitcase from him and went ahead inside. I couldn’t help being moody, it was too early and on top of that, I had the worst period cramps that didn’t let me sleep last night.

“Hey! There you are, guys!” Giroud exclaimed overly cheerful, too cheerful for my taste at this hour.

“We almost thought we had to leave without you,” Mbappe commented, smiling in greeting.

“Blame this grumpy head, she was hard to get out of bed,” Antoine said and I simply nodded, too tired to be mad. I would be later.

Giroud chuckled, “My wife is like that, too. My method is waking her up with the smell of food.”

I perked up, “That would work on me, too. But in Antoine’s case, I would probably wake up to the smell of burn, given his cooking skills.”

“Oi, I’m not that bad!” Antoine protested as the others burst out in laughter.

“Yeah, what about that time-”

“Ok, you win.” I chuckled at how fast he gave up, remembering his many failed attempts at cooking for himself when I had been too preoccupied with pre-studying.

“That was fast! I wonder what you’ve done,” Pogba said, tuning into the conversation with his wife tugged under his arm.

“I-”

“No, shush!” Antoine clamped his hand over my mouth, pushing me away with the other. I laughed into his palm, causing him to chuckle himself. “Come on, let’s check in and avoid my embarrassment.”

“You would think you couldn’t get any more embarrassed after your Spongebob underwear was revealed,” I commented and he flicked my forehead, “Ouch!”

“Don’t ever insult the pants, they bring me luck!”

“Oh Antoine, please tell me you didn’t bring Spongebob with you.”

“Of course! How else are we going to win the World Cup?” I facepalmed. “I should have burnt them when I had the chance.”

“You would never break my heart like that,” Antoine said, throwing his arm over my shoulder and I tried to ignore my heart beat speed up.

“Let’s just check in,” I grumbled, looking away from him so he wouldn’t see my reddened cheeks.

-

After a gruesome long flight, which I spent wide awake no matter how much I tried to fall asleep, we finally arrived in Kazan; our first stop where France would play against Australia.

Peeking out of the window I watched as we slowly descended to the ground, feeling giddiness welling up in me. I had never been to Russia before so naturally, I had looked up the cities we would stay in. I hoped they looked as great as they did in the pictures.

“Excited?” Antoine asked, “Stop fidgeting around, you make me nervous.”

“I can’t help it,” I said, turning to him with a wide grin,” I’ve never been outside of Europe before.”

“Well, I’m glad I was your first,” he replied teasingly and I rolled my eyes along with a few exasperated groans that could be heard around us, “Hey, no one told you guys to listen to our conversation.”

“Mate, let me give you some advice,” Pogba said from behind, leaning forward against our seat, “Don’t make jokes. You’re not good at it.”

Antoine gasped, offended.

“He’s right. You’re not killing it,” Mbappe agreed from in front of us.

“You think I’m funny, right?” my husband asked with a pout, turning to me.

I breathed in through my teeth, “Stick to football,” I advised, high-fiving Pogba as the others hollered. Antoine crossed his arms, childishly, “I will get you back for that.”

“Oh yeah, how?”

“Did you forget I recorded you while you were sleeping?”

“Alright, you win,” I gave in immediately, flushing red. My snoring was quite embarrassing, to say the least.

“Wait, what? Why?” Mbappe questioned, “What do you do in your sleep?”

Antoine opened his mouth, but I cut him off, “If you dare say anything,” I threatened without knowing exactly what I would do and he clamped his mouth back shut with a grin, “Sorry, the lady spoke.”

“Aww come on, it can’t be so bad,” Pogba tried but I shook my head resolutely, giving the light-haired man next to me a warning glare to which he merely chuckled.

“Don’t even try looking angry, it just makes you cute,” Antoine said and my glare dropped, heart skipping a beat at his words.

“Dear passengers, we will shortly arrive at our destination place. Please fasten your seatbelts...”

“You heard it, ladies,” Coach Deschamps said from further back, “Fasten your seatbelts.”

-

“Wow, this hotel is beautiful,” I said, looking up at the tall building in jaw-dropping awe.

“Not as beautiful as me,” Antoine replied and it would have been cheesy if he hadn’t just complimented himself. I mentally facepalmed this time, too amazed to look away from the house when something flew into my mouth.

I reflexively spit out whatever it was, looking down to see a peanut. A giggle erupted from somewhere in front of me and I glanced up to see a woman around my age laughing into her hand with a bag of peanuts in the other.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she apologised, her voice indicating that she wasn’t sorry at all and I raised an eyebrow at her, “It was too easy of a target. Easier than my man even,” she explained, pointing at Giroud. I nodded in non-understanding, grabbing my suitcase tightly in awkwardness. I wasn’t a social person so talking to strangers wasn’t my best trait.

She held out her hand anyways, introducing herself, “I’m Jennifer, by the way.”

“Adeline,” I said back, shaking her hand.

“I know,” she grinned, “I was at your party. Didn’t get to congratulate you for getting accepted to university. So, belated congrats!”

I giggled at her dorky behaviour, “Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to everyone.”

“It’s more like you didn’t want to, wasn’t it?” she guessed and I smiled sheepishly. Was I that easy to read? “I get it, you’re introverted. It’s cool.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we all had already figured it was more Antoine’s idea to throw that party.”

“It was! He just loves them,” I said, shaking my head and she giggled.

“Olli is no different. It’s what they bonded over when they first met.” We chuckled together and I found that she wasn’t as bad and intimidating as I had thought back at my home when she was huddled together with the other girls.

“Ads, come on. We have to get our room,” Antoine yelled from the front door of the hotel and I looked up, just then realising that Jennifer and I basically were the only ones still standing in the parking lot. Giroud then walked up to his wife, kissing her temple lovingly. “Ready to get in?”

Jennifer nodded happily and I proceeded to follow them upstairs and into the hotel where Antoine had disappeared into.

“Here, I got the keys already, slowpoke,” Antoine said, keys dangling from his fingers and I rolled my eyes at him.

“Let’s go then,” I said, waving at Jennifer.

“See you guys at dinner!” she yelled across the room and I cringed slightly at how much her loud voice gained the attention of some but brushed it off quickly.

“You two got friendly?” Antoine asked, smiling slightly and I nodded, “She’s really fun. And dorky just like you.”

“Oi!...No, you’re right,” he relented and I chuckled at him. “I’m glad you’re making friends. I was getting tired of them constantly asking about my mysterious wife.”

“Is that what I’m labeled as?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, and not only from the WAG club but from the guys as well,” he said, rolling his eyes, “Hopefully you will talk to them now that you have to hang with us.”

“...I can still stay in the room and study,” I mused and laughed as he pushed me, annoyed.

“I give up. Your introverted nerd ass can’t be saved,” he said dramatically.

“I’m not a nerd.”

“I repeat: You’re studying even though university hasn’t even started, yet.”

“It’s called preparing yourself. And I’m surely not the only one, who does that.”

“I’m pretty sure you are.”

“Am not.”

That’s how the rest of the way was spent until we arrived at our room. It was a simply decorated apartment but well and warm enough with the modern decor. I dropped my suitcase along with Antoine and strolled around, peeking into the bathroom for a second before taking a look around the living room that was the bedroom as well. My eyes widened when I took a glance at the bed.

It was small. Way too small. Back at home, we had a California king-sized bed where at least one more person could have comfortably sleep between us. And that space had always been used to never come close to the other. I felt uncomfortable doing the first move and since he never did either we were left sleeping on the edge of our own sides, even when we got more friendly with each other.

This bed now gave us no possibility to maintain that space between us. “How are we going to sleep in this?” I voiced out before I lost the courage to do so and Antoine looked over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s smaller than our bed.”

“So?” I looked at him incredulously and it dawned on him what I meant. Or at least I thought it did. “You’re right. You take so much space, I won’t have any left for myself.”

“Excuse me?” I asked indignantly and it was his turn to look at me like I was mad.

“Please don’t tell me you never noticed your starfish sleeping position,” he declared, raising his eyebrows.

“What?! I don’t sleep like a starfish!”

“Yes, you do. You’re the Patrick in this relationship. And I’m Spongebob.”

“Patrick is male! And they’re not even married!”

“Patricia then. And who cares if they aren’t.”

I wanted to stay mad but couldn’t help but laugh when I got reminded of Patrick turning into a girl, “That episode was really funny,” I giggled and Antoine joined in, “Right? We should watch it later, Patricia.”

“I’m not-! Oh, whatever,” I sighed, rubbing my face tiredly.

Antoine grinned, “I’m winning a lot of arguments lately. You being sleepy is a good thing. I should wake you up early more often.”

“Try me and see what happens,” I threatened with narrowed eyes and he slowly backed away with a nervous laugh, “Nevermind. Wanna take a nap now before dinner?”

“Yes, please,” I moaned, dropping on the bed and almost immediately drifting off to sleep.

“Sleep tight, Patricia.”

-

I woke up two hours later, not knowing where I was. Blinking I inspected the room, speculating every possible scenario on how I got here when Antoine stepped out of another room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

“Good evening, sleepy head,” he greeted cheerfully and I nodded, “Where are we?”

“At a hotel in Kazan,” he chuckled, plopping down next to me.

“Ah,” I didn’t question further, figuring I would remember when I woke up properly. Dropping my head back on the comfy surface I blindly grabbed for a pillow and snuggled my face into it, inhaling the intoxicating scent of cologne.

“How can someone sleep so much and yet still be tired?” Antoine wondered.

“It’s called living, Antoine, google it,” I said, causing him to laugh and pat my head briefly.

“No, living consists of going outside and enjoying life to the fullest. And not dream around.”

“But what if my dreams are better than what the outside has to offer?” I mumbled, searching for his hand and putting it back on my head, indicating for him to keep going.

He chuckled quietly, running his fingers through my hair, “Then you have to make the outside better for you.”

“That’s easy to say.”

“It’s as easy to say as to make.”

“Shut up and let me enjoy this, you french guru.”

“Alright, alright. But we gotta head to dinner soon,” Antoine informed and I nodded sleepily, enjoying his fingers running circles on my scalp.

“You should massage me more often, then I might listen to you more,” I said later on as we headed down to dinner. I had quickly gotten ready, taking the fastest shower ever and putting on some pants and a nice top.

“I might just have to,” Antoine sighed in mock exasperation before grinning. “By the way,” he said, taking out his phone to show me a picture, “I was right again, Patricia.”

“Dammit,” I cursed when I saw myself sleeping with my limbs sprawled across almost the entire bed, my face stuffed into a pillow, “How do I even breathe sleeping like this?”

Antoine cackled, “I will print this out as a portrait and hang it in our living room.”

“Do that and I will shred your Spongebob pants.”

“You won’t. I will hide them!”

“You can’t hide anything in our home. I know the house better than you.”

“...I will just wear it all the time then.”

“Ew, that’s gross!”

“Yeah, it is. I take it back,” he relented and I giggled.

“Anton, Adeline! Over here!” Giroud called, waving over to the long table. It seemed like the restaurant was nice enough to push some tables together for us and Giroud had saved some seats across from him and Jennifer.

Sitting down in front of them, I smiled at Jennifer who greeted me cheerfully. “Did you guys settle into your room? We didn’t see you outside,” she commented, starting up a conversation.

“Yeah, this sleepy head just had to take a nap the minute we got in,” Antoine said, pointing at me.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t nap yourself,” I said back when a waitress came, handing us our menus.

“Well, looking at you sleep made me sleepy, too,” Antoine remarked, shrugging.

Giroud laughed boisterously, “Listening to you two talk is always bound to be funny, right Jen?”

“I don’t know Adeline over here for long, but I agree,” Jennifer said, giggling, “Antoine, you finally found someone, who won’t back down from your constant arguments.”

“Hey, I don’t argue that much,” the blue-eyed man next to me protested, “Addy, tell them I don’t.”

“There were times where the arguments would last for days,” I admitted in faux-sadness.

“What? Never!”

“He had to sleep on the couch occasionally.”

Antoine pouted miserably as the pair in front of us laughed at him, “You’re my wife, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Oh I am, always,” I reassured, patting his cheek, “Just not now.” Antoine snatched my hand from his face, holding onto it with a playful glint in his eyes, “You wanna play that game?”

“Bring it on,” I grinned, squeezing his hand.

“No, please keep your games in the bedroom,” Giroud cut in, sipping on his drink, “I don’t wanna see any of it.”

Antoine and I sprang apart, him letting go of my hand awkwardly. I looked the other way as my cheeks warmed, feeling a bit embarrassed. Did they know that we had never gotten any way further than that one kiss? I didn’t know how I would feel if they did. Was it something to be embarrassed about? I didn’t mind holding on until I found a special someone, but I had already been married to my special someone for quite a time. It would be weird to still be a virgin, wouldn’t it?

“Oh please, don’t get all shy now,” Jennifer giggled though Giroud’s laugh had faded into a solemn expression and I knew then that he knew.

Thankfully, the waitress came back at the time and I quickly ordered the first thing that looked familiar to me without much of a thought.

“Anyway,” Giroud cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject, “This must be the first time Adeline has shown herself to us after that party. I didn’t get to ask back then but I have a very severe question,” he said, leaning forward to look at me.

I gulped slightly, “Yeah?”

He took a deep breath in before, “How dare you say training is boring?” Blinking at him, I cocked my head to the side in confusion. Was he kidding? I looked towards Antoine, who had a hard time stifling his laughter.

Jennifer slapped his arm, rolling her eyes, “And here I thought you actually meant being serious.”

“I am,” Giroud protested, “Training is the funniest, most interesting thing ever!”

“Just because you are so dedicated, doesn’t mean everyone else is too, Olli.”

“No?”

“Yes, Olli,” I said teasingly, grateful for the change.

“Alright...Patricia,” he smirked devilishly and it took me a second to get it. I gasped, my head snapping to my husband.

“Antoine!”

“What?” he said innocently. Or at least it would have been innocent if he had been able to stop laughing. I slapped his arm quite strongly and he groaned in pain, “Damn, since when are you so strong?”

“Since my husband is calling himself Spongebob,” I retorted and he smiled toothily.

-

The first game was against Australia, which France won 2:1.

I had driven there in a rented car, taking Jennifer with me so we both didn’t have to drive. We had chatted about the game and she also informed me about the other girls since I hadn’t had talked to them, yet.

Even during the game, where we were all loosely sat together I only managed a smile and little small talk before I opted for focusing on the game, not really wanting to get close to them. After Cateline, could you blame me really? Even Jennifer would always be kept at arm's length away.

Antoine had shot a penalty, doing his signature winning move that had us laughing.

As soon as the game ended, we headed back and the guys - pumped as they were with adrenaline - wanted to celebrate.

“Come on, Addy,” Antoine whined, dragging out my name as he tugged on my sleeve. I had already changed into my sleeping clothes and brought out my laptop to go through some material when he had gotten back. “It’s just a small get together. Only a few hours.”

“You do realise we have to get up early for our next flight,” I reasoned, looking at the clock, “We only have...six hours to sleep,” I whined myself, miserably.

Antoine rolled his eyes, “You don’t need that much sleep,” I gasped! “Ok, you do. But you can sleep on the plane and when we get to the hotel, you can sleep again. The others will wonder where you are when you don’t come now.”

“Let them wonder,” I shrugged and he pouted, “Please? For me? I shot a goal for my country, isn’t that enough reason to party?”

I sighed, relenting and he pumped his fist in success, dropping back against the bed. “Jesus, convincing you to party is almost as hard as winning the World Cup.”

Throwing a pillow at him, I giggled at his yelp and got up to get ready. “But only a few hours.”

The party was alright, I felt a bit uncomfortable since I didn’t know many personally so I stuck either to Antoine or Jennifer and even Giroud when the other two weren’t available.

“You enjoying this?” Giroud asked, handing me a drink.

I gave him a miserable look that was enough of an answer to which he chuckled. “You are not a party mouse, eh?”

“Not really. But congratulations on winning anyway,” I said, raising my glass to him and he clinked his own against it with a friendly wink, “Thanks. It’s really indescribable how it feels to win something like this. Even if it’s only one game of many...it never gets old,” he explained passionately and I smiled at his enthusiasm, “Antoine is the happiest of us all tonight since he shot a goal, too. That’s when you feel on top.”

I nodded, getting why my husband wanted me to celebrate with him so earnestly. I wondered if he would have asked Cateline instead if she were here and then scolded myself for thinking about her at all. Sighing at the sadness creeping up again after I had successfully suppressed it for days, I took a sip of my drink. “I’m sure, you will shoot one, too very soon,” I said politely and he smiled, though it seemed strained.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been at my best lately,” he admitted, his cheerful expression fading slightly.

“It’s just the beginning, you have plenty of chances left,” I said matter-of-factly. “Patience is a virtue.”

“What a lame quote,” Giroud chuckled and I gave him a peeved look that made him laugh more.

“I was being serious!” I whined and he patted my head like I was some kid. Given the height difference, it was easy for him to do so.

“Sure, keep going, nerd.”

I huffed, “Did Antoine tell you every stupid nickname he has for me?”

“Yeah, how do you think he comes up with them?” I gasped in shock, narrowly stopping myself from elbowing him. “How dare you?”

Giroud shrugged with a grin, “What can I say? It’s hard not to come up with nicknames when he tells me all the funny stories about you.”

I cringed in embarrassment, “What do you know?”

"Not that much, I swear...snoring beauty.” I groaned, hiding my face behind my hand as he burst out in laughter.

“But on a more serious note-”

“Your serious notes are never serious,” I cut him off and he grinned toothily.

“Alright, if you don’t wish to know what Antoine’s thinks of you then I will just head over to my wife...”

“No no no, stay,” I quickly held him back and he raised his eyebrow with a smug look on his face, “What does he say?”

Giroud shrugged, turning the tiniest bit serious, “I’ve just noticed that he’s been talking about you a lot more lately. About your goals, that you started working, the veggie soup - that I wouldn’t mind trying out by the way - It’s like I’m living with you, that’s how much I know about you now.”

My heart skipped at his words. I never knew he talked about me at all in the first place and even to this extent? It made me nervous but in a good way. It was a good sign, wasn’t it?

I shook my head quickly, the beginnings of a smile fading when I remembered his affair. It didn’t really matter what he was doing now and what it made me feel, in the end, I would leave him either way.

“That’s sweet,” I commented half-heartedly and I noticed Giroud shooting me a worried look when Antoine and Jennifer popped up next to us.

“Hey, you party poopers, what’s with the long faces?” Antoine exclaimed, clearly having had too many drinks already.

“Yeah, Olli! You’re usually not like this,” Jennifer slurred, almost tripping on her heels, “Where is the party animal?”

“He’s right here!” Giroud exclaimed, his mood turning 180 around in a matter of seconds as he downed his drink. I cocked my head to the side perplexed when Antoine threw his arm over my shoulder, “Why is your glass still full, babe? You don’t like it, I can get you another one.”

“I doubt you will survive a walk back to the bar,” I replied when internally I screamed ‘Did he just call me babe???’

“I will for you,” he said with a cheesy, intoxicated grin.

“Alright, it’s time for us to go,” I decided, putting his and my drink down on a random table and guiding him out of the lounge room.

“Noooo,” Antoine protested, the smell of alcohol hitting me full on and almost causing me to gag, “I don’t wanna leave, yet.”

“If you continue like this, you’re going to pass out and I can’t carry you.”

“You want me to carry you?” he slurred and I rolled my eyes as he bent down, attempting to lift me up.

“Let’s just go to sleep.”

“Alright, Patricia,” he said, shouting at the others and directly into my ear, “Bye guys! I love you all!”

I grumbled at the ringing sound in my ear and dragged him out into our room by the arm. He trudged obediently behind me, greeting a passing couple, who were snogging against the wall at the hall to our room.

“Where do you have the keys?” I asked him as we arrived at our door. He looked down at his pants, gasping, “Since when do I have clothes on?”

I huffed, proceeding to search his front pockets for the keys, “Woah, babe. Here? Let’s get inside first!” Antoine said drunkenly and I flushed at his insinuation, relieved that no one was around to hear.

“No, I’m just trying to get the keys,” I grumbled at him, trying to ignore the fact that he was slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Finally fishing out the blasted keys I swiftly turned around to open the door. Antoine wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder and my fingers shook at the contact.

“You don’t want me, baby? Am I not attractive to you?” he slurred.

“What?” I asked, my voice higher and causing him to wince.

“I find you attractive,” he mumbled, tightening his grip around my waist and I swallowed, trying to control my heart rate. It was getting hard to put the keys in the lock with him being so close, especially when he nuzzled his face into my hair. “So soft,” he murmured when I finally managed to open the door.

“Come on,” I whispered, glad that he was too drunk to realise how my voice shook, “Let’s get you to bed.”

He smirked and even in his intoxicated state he looked devilishly handsome, “Oh, I know what that means. Mattress tango.”

I snorted at his description and he giggled himself. “You’re crazy,” I told him, dragging him and pushing him onto the bed, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and get ready for bed. You try and not throw up on the covers.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he saluted, dropping his back against the sheets. As I got back from the bathroom, I noticed he had rid himself off of his clothes, leaving him only in his Spongebob underwear. Guiding him under the sheets I laid down next to him at a respective distance. As much as it was possible. He stirred at the movement and sleepily pushed himself over on top of me. I tensed in surprise, breath catching in my throat as he forced his arms under my back and snuggled his head into my neck, “Nighty night, Patricia,” he mumbled before his soft snores resounded through the room.

I slowly relaxed, hoping my erratic heartbeat wouldn’t wake him up as I tentatively wrapped my arms around him, taking in the feeling of his back muscles under my fingers. This was the closest we had ever been and I knew I was saying that often but it really was another new and rare experience for me.

And I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, wanting to relish in this moment of closeness. Let’s stop kidding each other, after the divorce, I was sure I would never be able to trust a man ever again so I would probably die alone with hundreds of dogs and cats. So this was one of the rare times I could feel close to someone like this.

Running my fingers through his hair until the early morning, I watched the sunrise through our window for probably the first time after years. It had a refreshing thrill to it, watching it go upwards and I wished I could move the windows open.

I heard before I saw Antoine wake up as he groaned when the sunlight hit him, rubbing his face against my collarbone. ‘He must have a nasty headache now,’ I thought, ‘I should probably look for some painkillers.’

“Why did I drink so much?” I heard mumble as he tried to shield his eyes from the sun against my neck. I giggled but quickly stopped myself. He would probably feel really awkward waking up on top of me.

I contemplated what to do. I didn’t want things to be weird. In a spur of the moment decision, I pushed him off next to me with all my might before he could wake up properly and jumped out of bed. He groaned, rolling back over and searching the mattress with his hands. “Cate..?” I heard him ask and bit my lip harshly to overshadow the pain that struck me inside. I watched him search around until he grabbed onto a pillow, snuggling into it.

Shaking my head I smiled sadly as I locked myself in the bathroom, desperately trying to forget that moment.

VI.

Help me Get Coffee Support?

[aw-life-no]

Long personal rant ahead im working through some shit yall. Trigger warnings ahead of #suicidal ideation #depression #self harm #self hate

And for all my IRL friends who will probably see this, this ramble thoughts is why i dont reach out.

————-

So can anyone tell me....How the fuck do you tell your friends youve been in a suicidal-idealation place for a few weeks but like....without worrying them because you feel like youve feel like youve been exhausting them with your problems a lot recently but theyre youre support system so like you know they care but you just dont want to overwhelm them anymore then they already are??? But like i also havent actually told anybody really about how i want to die like every day all the time and i cant stop thinking about all the ways i could just dissapear?? And ive been like this since i was like 14 but ok whatever.....but im also like terrified of my imagination?? Like does anyone else think of stabbing into the forearm and ripping up it with a knife every other thought?? Or just overdosing??? Like its not normal and i dont want to scare people with the actual thoughts i have....but i shouldnt keep them all inside??

But like im also finally kinda getting some of my life together i guess?? I have a great girlfriend, a good support system mostly......make decent money now, anxiety is lower now.....And like.....i dont want to die??? im only 26 but ive been in this spiral since i tried to kill myself at 14 and 20 and like is this just going to happen every six years like what the fuck. Im on the anti depressants. I take care of myself as best i can in this state...I get sleep most of the time. Im working on therapy. I need to talk to my doctor about different meds maybe like UGH.

I thought i stopped self harming years ago and SURE i dont cut anymore but i dont like...eat anymore?? And im fat so how the fuck is that working for me haha....and i “accidently” trigger myself sometimes which is WHY you dont see me on alot of social media much anymore cause im fucked up and go into a deep spiral on purpos cause i want to feel somethinf??? And i take showers WAY too hot so my skin turns red...And ive lost SO MUCH interest in what i used to LOVE doing like art and writing and costumes. And i still scratch at my skin till its raw and overthink everything. And keep it all bottled up all the time.

And i wish there was a place i could just talk about all of this without being like put on a suicide watch or whatever. I DONT WANT TO ACT ON THESE THOUGHTS BUT I CANT GET RID OF THEM. Thats my problem. I cant just “be happy” or “think positive”. Its bullshit and has never worked for me. And yes i did try yoga and meditation.

But now im just TIRED ALL THE TIME. I just want to sleep my life away. I dont want to exist in this hell of a life being thrown at me but god damn IM TRYING to make it worth it. And i hate myself that im like this but this mental illness is NOT going to define me.

And i WISH people would think to like i dunno, check up on me once in a while?? WITHOUT me prompting it like in posts like this??? Like im always initating and you know what??? Reaching out is fucking HARD AS SHIT and i need a fucking limb or something. Im BAD at asking for help. I know this about myself and i dont know how to fix it. And now i know people will ask “oh are you ok” or “i saw your tumblr post wanna talk” like NO i DONT. I used to want to talk but now yall are gunna remember me for like 5 seconds and forget once i “seem ok”. (And also i just ranted out all my feelings so what more would i say to you anyway). And I KNOW thats selfish of me becuase everyone has their own lives and illness and trauma too....but i keep telling my support that I WILL DISTANCE MYSELF AND NOT PARTICIPATE OR INTERACT BECAUSE I DONT WANT TO BOTHER YOU OR FEEL LIKE IM TAKING ADVANTAGE OF YOUR HELP. And it seems like whenever i need help or feel like i need or should reach out, everyone is already burnt out or unavailable. So here i am on tumblr.

Anyway. Im 26. Clinically depressed and anxious. And ive been suicidal since i was 14. Ive attempted twice, not that youd be able to tell by looking at me. My shit is not together but goddess i am trying.

[aquirkynerdytur-port-key]

1/28/19

God why is everything so fucking exhausting

I can’t seem to stay awake no matter now much caffeine I drink or how much sleep I get, and I just want to be able to stay awake and learn and do decent in my classes but I’m fucking stalled in life, everything is continuing around me, if not faster than normal, and im here, all alone but not really alone? I cant even do homework anymore the slight drive I managed to keep from 8th grade until now has burnt out and I cant motivate myself to do the readings or the problems or whatever and im just drowning and cant stay happy, even though im doing things I love. Also like, my friends arent really friends anymore? More like “colleagues”, and everyone else is essentially a stranger.

God I miss Cole

Hes moved on to bigger and better things and probably better friends, we barely talk anymore and im too scared to start up a conversation because it always goes along the lines of:

Hey

Hey

Hru

Im fine, hbu

Uh im gucci lol

And then we stop talking for months on end.

Everything is just falling apart and I don’t know what to do. I cant tell my parents or family, it would be too awkward and they would give “advice” which is just stating the facts.

Recently I’ve been thinking about dying, but like always I come to the conclusion “no thats selfish, you’re a chicken anyway, what if Cole/finley/acey/Ryan needs you tomorrow???” So I dont do it

Tried to learn how to file a complaint to sr Adams today. That was a fun talk.

Maybe questioning my sexuality now? I mean, I dont FEEL anything romantic/sexual to others, but like, I talk about girls a lot and how I would like, tap that and shit like that??? Not sure anymore. Im gonna stick with my feeling over my mentality and thoughts tho… so still identifying as Ace/aro.

Learning ukulele is good, lots of fun, liana Flores is amazing at songwriting and honestly it would be so so SO cool if I could learn how to write decent songs/good chords for one. People say music is essentially poetry, but all of my poems would NOT work whatsoever with any tune or beat or whatever.

Also im really fucking pissed that I have such a shit memory for things that matter.  I can remember the entirety of heathers, BMC, the Hamilton and mean girls soundtrack, countless episodes of DW/Sherlock/Spn, numerous pages from PJO or HP, but cant seem to remember anything valuable for history class. So fucking annoying and stupid.

Guess its getting bad again, my completely undiagnosed, probably nonexistent depression and anxiety.

I hope mr petrocelli is recovering nicely. What a dude.

But yeah I feel like it’s getting bad again. Ive been feeling like im about to throw up for the past month or two, cant seem to feel anything positive for more than a couple minutes, and have been so fatigued that I cant focus on anything.

Fuck man, writing the truth down on here is kinda painful. Like this is probs the 3rd time ive cried while writing this, when ISHOULD be doing homework.

Membean can suck my nonexistent dick. SOOOOOO fucking stupid I hope that I wont have to do it next year because I KNOW most of the words but still get the questions wrong because im given synonyms or I forget how to spell it. Its also EVIDENT I know these words because I use them quite a bit, but NOOOOO I HAVE to do a fucking memorization thing.

I really wish that I could freeze time, because I feel like a damn mirror thats been shattered. The glass shards can still display the image, but it is hard to see. a single hit or amount of stress can cause the shards to collapse and become beyond repair.

Hm, is this like a diary now? This is so damn weird. Who knows 🤷‍♀️ if anyone reads this later on, what’s up lol. Think thats enough for now, sorry to waste your time complaining about some pretty minuscule things…

Shit that was so fucking pathetic, apologizing to someone who probably will never read this anyway. Anyway, hasta la taco, as Asha would say.

Do you think it would be possible to go to the health center and ask for a mental health day or something? I just. Cant do class tomorrow. Just thinking about HOMEWORK (and tomorrow lol) is enough to make me start crying, but the last time I went because of a mental breakdown they told me to stop running away from my problems and to grow up and face it because I wont be able to chicken out in the real world.

[mintyvoid]

tw suicide ideation, lots of wanting to die talk + depression stuff

i just get really frustrated with wanting to die but not being able to do it - while being expected to want to live and try when im done and too tired to anymore

like i have felt that life is a chore for a majority of my life, even as a kid I wasn't super motivated to pursue living. While i had things that I wanted to aspire to, I had the inkling that i either would never actually achieve it or have an extremely hard time doing so (and was right).

i still tried though (and constantly failed to live up to any expectation, mine and others), out of obligation and otherwise. I enjoy learning and trying things, but struggled to due to the ~undiagnosed autism~ and accessibility.

and the longer time went on the less and less enjoyable and more frustrating living became. I gave up trying to make friends and just let it happen- and waited for the inevitable of them eventually ignoring me. school left me extremely burnt out and completely hopeless that I would ever succeed. and working did the same.

but always the response from professionals is 'but you're young! you have your whole life ahead of you'

what life? what life when i struggle to do anything, when I can't find support to not feel like garbage.

or "well if you don't care, you should be able to do anything cause you don't care right?"

ive never understood this assumption. I most of the time have zero motivation or drive to live, it does not make me want to do anything. How does not wanting to do anything equate to being able to do anything?

it's like im not taken seriously, because i don't self harm, i don't have any plans to actually kill myself. And that somehow automatically means I can do things.

no one believes me when I say I can't force myself to do things or trick myself.

no one knows what to do when I tell them mindfullness doesn't do anything, being positive daily doesn't do anything, having structure in the form of a job i don't want to have doesn't do anything.

i can't speak to any professional short term because I can see everything they will say coming, its meaningless to me now. Every book i've read is just more of the same and none of it helps.

I've been sayin this for more than 5 years and no one believes me, thinking that i'm over exaggerating or not trying hard enough or long enough.

there are so many others that are able to get better with meds or therapy or luck and I have none of that. and it's just so tiring, im so fucking tired and tired of people asking me to try more only for another treatment plan to fail, only for me to find a new low.

i've gone from stubborn, to hesitant, to accepting, to desperate, to utterly done.

yet i have sooooo much life ahead of me.

[casualpoetry]

Your lover’s lover forgot to tell her goodbye

Prologue

You always make me cry Darling Stop talking and hold me When I turn around just sing me to sleep I remember you saying: I can’t see your shadow anymore; My love, where did it go? You said I had to be strong It is best if I let go I thought long and hard Are we right for each other? Don't ask me I’ll just panic The world can be vicious sometimes The answers, how am I supposed to know?

Part I

On that particular Wednesday I sat in front of the ocean Watching the moon orbit the sky Reflecting some sunlight I tried to find a dolphin But I looked closer and it was just a lake I know that little bugs come out at night time Padding their feet along, they try Some dogs occasionally walk by They assume this world a friendly place When I looked up I panicked The moon was nowhere to be found I desperately searched for it but only to find that The sea level is rising And everything is dying I jumped up in an attempt Hurried my pace and I couldn't pretend I wanted to go home my friend The spot where my shadow used to sit Is gone, and I had nowhere to lean I sighed and dragged myself along I followed the vine, dead and shattering in the wind I called you two or three times Wanting to say how much I loved you It went straight to your voicemail because I didn't deserve the attention

Part II

You should come home We agreed yesterday that we do need one another If you like, I can be a delight And this love of ours, should be measured with a coffee spoon But don’t tell me white lies I saw you three times when I walked by She’s got this magic that I I don’t really have I’m scared What am I here for? You thought your whole life was a metaphor I know I scream at you a lot Three days in a roll, I can recall But let me justify it So many times you’ve tried to run away with your lover

Part III

And on that Wednesday night It was dim but you could see the sliver light And the subtle reflection in your eyes I couldn't help myself I screamed my lungs out I told you to go fuck yourself Then the clock struck midnight And I was still there I don’t know if you were trying to strangle me I just wanted to check if you were still on board You forgot the things that we fight for And you left me on the floor There’s no heaven or an old man above I judge you, as much as you should your own character Live this life like there’s no other And don’t give up on us I know you're not an unfaithful lover

Part IV

I want you to sleep tight I have your best interests at heart And what benefits do I bare Just that in the morning I will be right here Now I can’t remember Do you like your coffee black or with a spoon of sugar? Your favourite song is coming on You can hit replay after I tell you this story Remember that man who killed his wife? He brought his axe here, bloody and stained He came after me Pointed a gun at me And all I could say was: I killed someone in my dreams; I could fly above the skies; Don't provoke me. And you know what’s funny? When I was flying up there I saw you Leaving her behind Are you sick of your lover? Are you coming back to me? You trick me with your manipulative style You think I’m a fool for you But love only gets you so far I’ve warned you twice now, don’t you remember? You carry that dagger What good can it do you for And don’t you Pull your hair out in front of me Trying to earn my sympathy I don’t want to see blood You’re not worth bleeding for

Part V

You’ve stared at me for a long time now I won’t stop, dancing to this music, I want you to hurt As much as both of my feet hurt There’s a lot of blood on your shirt You bleed like that lamb who was murdered Maybe I’ll consider sacrificing my youth So your face will be less violent I’ll sacrifice my time Some of my hair, much of this imaginary soul And the beauty that you insist I have Just so I can be with you Even when you’re out with your lover I know this is not forever Because when I was out I saw her Holding someone else’s hands It wasn’t bland They stood under the moonlight They held their hands till the sunrise I can only protect you Until the police bust through my door

Part VI

I think I’ll leave it here I’ve done enough, everything possible The time has come for you to go I’ll burnt something in a sacrifice So your love could be revived It was some kind of satanic ritual I don’t believe in God’s words I demand you nothing but To drop down in front of me Kneel before my feet Catch the cold flames in my eyes Because even though you didn't ask I have tortured myself for you I don’t remember much love But this twisted tongued and severed heart I painted my nails to the clock ticking Waiting for you to come back and beg and apologise But in the end it was me who Scream and said Come back, and I Cried, my voice was torn and with a horse throat I said She’s gone I told you about your lover She’s gone with her other lover I will beg until you come back to me I burnt something alive There's a dagger in my heart Her maid threw away my toys Now there’s nothing left So pardon me for a minute, my love Allow me to lean against a wall I know people stare when I walk down the street They want to put me away because I’m psychotic Yes I am but I love it We don’t need sanity to survive I’m counting down One last time Come back Or be burnt alive

Epilogue

I’m sick to my bones I warned you Lover boy And you’ve played me like a toy You won’t be able to live through my goodbye

[lovemesomesurveys]

1) Have you ever heard of the singer Edith Piaf? I had to Google her, but I recognize one of her songs from a commercial.

2) Do you enjoy singing? Sure, when I’m by myself.

3) How far would you go to pursue the career of your dreams? If I had something I was passionate about pursuing and had the drive and motivation to do so, I’m sure I’d go as far as I could.

4) Would you ever cut friends out of your life it meant succeeding in that career? No.

5) Would you ever consider performing in a circus? No.

6) Have you/would you ever sing on the streets? No. Just because I said I like to sing that doesn’t mean I can sing well because I can’t. At all.

7) Is one of your parents in the military? No.

8) Have you ever been to a brothel? No.

9) Are you very religious at all? Yes.

10) If you’ve prayed before, has your prayer been answered? Yes.

11) Would you ever be interested in learning how to breathe fire? I’d be way too scared to ever come close. I don’t even like lighting candles.

12) Have you ever had an eye infection so bad that you went temporarily blind? No.

13) Do you know anyone who’s an alcoholic? No.

14) Have you ever injected any drugs? Just the IV kind while in the hospital.

15) Where’s the best place you’ve ever been on a road trip? The road trip to Idaho with my family and extended family a few years ago was a lot of fun.

16) Have you ever collapsed at any point before? No.

17) Do you ever get any excruciating back problems? I suffer from chronic back pain.

18) Do you know anyone who’s been killed in a plane crash? No.

19) Are you interested in boxing at all? Nope.

20) Is there any kind of meat that you absolutey despise? I’m very picky with meat, actually. I like beef, chicken, and pork, but only certain ways. What I mean by that is, I like hamburgers but not steak. I like chicken tenders and boneless wings, but not chicken on the bone or like rotisserie chicken. I like shredded pork and sausage, but not bacon or pork chops. I won’t even touch like lamb or any other kind of meat.

21) What’s the poshest restaurant you’ve ever been to? This one restaurant in a nearby touristy town.

22) Has someone ever brought you breakfast in bed before? Yeah.

23) Do you know anyone who has gotten into a serious car crash? Yes.

24) Have you ever knowingly been the “other woman”? No.

25) Has someone ever covered your bed in rose petals? Would you find something like that romantic? Nope. Yes, I’d like something like that.

26) Did you move around a lot growing up? Nope. I lived in the same house for a great chunk of my life up until about 5 years ago.

27) Have you ever gone to a restaurant and then realised you didn’t have enough money to pay? No. Gah that would be so awkward I would die.

28) Have you ever slept rough? Slept rough?

29) Are you flexible enough to become a contortionist? Uh, no. I’m not flexible at all.

30) Do you have any regrets or have you come to terms with your life so far? I have many regrets. :/

1) Do you know anyone who’s a veteran from WWII or from an even earlier war? No.

2) What’s been your worst experience staying in a hotel? I haven’t had any bad hotel experiences, actually.

3) Have you ever had an ingrowing toenail before? Did you have it taken out? Yes.

4) Do you like things like moose heads as decorations or not? No.

5) What’s your favourite dish in the world to cook? I’m not a cook.

6) Do you/does someone you know make extra money from selling paintings? My uncle, actually. He’s quite good.

7) Do you live anywhere near a beach? Yes.

8) Have you ever had any problems with getting building work done? I don’t do any building work?

9) Do you enjoy playing golf? If you’ve never played, would you be interested? Nah, it doesn’t look interesting to me.

10) Would you ever consider wearing a wig? Actually, I was talking to my brother about that last night. It started out as something Halloween related, but then I was like, man I wish I could afford the nice wigs or extensions so that I wouldn’t have to feel self-conscious about my hair and worry up the upkeep of the color, which I’ve slacked off majorly on for months. It needs to be dyed again so bad as well as a trim. I just don’t really like my hair, so if I could wear wigs or extensions it’d be nice.

11) Have you ever sent food back in a restaurant because it was just so bad? I’ve never had any bad experience like that, but my dad has. Once he ordered breakfast from this restaurant we often go to for breakfast and got what he normally did. However, this particular time the pancakes were burnt, the syrup was like watery, and there was something just off about the texture of the Canadian bacon that came with it. It was so bad that the manager actually tried it and agreed it was horrible!

12) Do you always seem to put your foot in it? Is this like the saying, “putting your foot in your mouth?”

13) Do you always make mistakes even when you try really hard not to? I’m great at that.

14) Have you ever been conned or scammed before? What happened? Back in the day when I actually fell for the stupid pop up ads that said my computer had a virus and I needed to get this virus protection program, which of course was in fact the virus. I was so naive back then.

15) Do you enjoy classical music? Some, yes. I have an appreciation for it. Especially piano pieces.

16) Are you one of those people who puts things off until the last minute? I’m a big procrastinator.

19) Do you enjoy a drink every evening, or do you not drink alcohol that much? I don’t drink alcohol at all.

20) Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? I doubt I’ll ever have a honeymoon cause I doubt I’ll ever get married, so.

21) Have you ever had concussion before? No.

22) Do you often find yourself yelling at inanimate objects when they won’t work? Yeppp.

23) Have you ever had a pet which has escaped? Did you find it? No, thankfully.

24) Does it annoy you when people dress their dogs up? Do you/would you do that? No. We do that with our dog sometimes. We don’t leave it on for a long time, and if she hates it we take it off.

25) Are you friends with someone whose first language is different from yours? No.

26) Would you be interested in becoming a chef? No. I’m not a cook at all.

27) Have you ever been drunk at work/at school? Did you get caught? No.

28) Does it annoy you when you see customers in hotels or restaurants being extremely rude? I hate when I see that anywhere. It’s just so unnecessary and uncalled for. Why don’t they understand that it gets them nowhere, and maybe talking like a rational person might get a lot more done. When they act like that it makes the person on the receiving end not even want to hear what they have to say anymore and are probably less accommodating and helpful in return. Had the person spoke calmly and respectfully, maybe they could get their point across better and something could be done. I get being frustrated, but it’s often misguided and handled in the wrong way.

29) Do you know anyone who is really hard of hearing? Does it annoy you much? Yes, and I feel bad because I know it’s something they can’t help but at the same time they kind of can because they could get hearing aids. Or in my papa’s case, actually use the ones he has.

30) Do you have trouble sleeping when it’s too hot, or can you cope? Ugh, yes. I absolutely cannot deal with it being too hot. I sleep with my ceiling fan and a desk fan, and it still gets hot sometimes.

[tackyink]

Okay. OKAY.

...

*deep breath*

SO. This is rather short and probably won’t make much sense on its own, but that’s why I’m posting it here. Other reasons are that it’s rather personal, that it isn’t going to be regularly updated and that apparently somebody came up with a similar idea and posted it just this week. What were the chances? Anyway. There’s more poorly written stuff that I need to redo before sharing. This is @luckystarchild‘s fault, by the way. Go read her fanfiction if you haven’t yet.

If this were the last day of your life, my friend Tell me, what do you think you would do then?

I’d always liked September.

I’ve always associated it with new beginnings. The start of the school year and the hope that it would be better than the last. New books and pencils. It was the month when the unbearable summer heat died out, when I met two of my best friends, when I changed schools after ten years in the same place, when I cut my hair short willingly for the first time, when I got my first real job after a drought of two years right after college.

Septembers gave me hope for change, and I’d learned long ago that I didn’t know how to live without it.

I was twenty-eight and hoping for another change. Anything would have been welcome at that point – getting fired, switching jobs, moving to another country – as long as it got me out of the hole. But of all the things I wished would happen, death wasn’t even at the bottom of the list.

I rather liked being alive. That was why I didn’t take to kindly to dying.

Or, more precisely, to my body dying.

I had joked a million times with my friends about going to the Spirit World when I eventually kicked the bucket. It didn’t happen, of course, because the Spirit World isn’t a thing in our world, but things didn’t go according to plan, exactly.

I wouldn’t know the mechanism of what had happened until years down the line, but I should start this story from the beginning. The moment where the wheel of fate got jammed and began revolving backwards for me, so to speak.

It was early morning, and I was heading to my work at a small marketing company located at the posh part of the city.

The rain was coming down hard that day, but I didn’t mind. It made the trek up from the subway station more pleasant.

My workplace was on a crossing of a long street with lots of transit during the day. Pedestrians and drivers alike, most hailing from that same district and on their way work, lived by the motto, ‘Screw traffic signs, I have money.’

Just on that street, I had witnessed two accidents during the last year and heard about another one. One I saw from the balcony of my office, where a biker got stuck under a truck. My coworkers and I never found out if he survived, because the paramedics rushed to the scene and blocked it from view with tarp screens. Just a few months prior, a pedestrian had been hit by a car and died at the opposite end of the street. And another time, as I made my way to the office, I saw a car turn from the wrong lane and hit a biker that flew, along with his vehicle, just a meter from me. Had it happened five seconds later, I would have been caught up in it as well. The biker wasn’t gravely injured, but he told me as we waited for the ambulance that it wasn’t the first time the same exact thing happened to him on that street.

It checked out. I’d nearly been run over three times, on a crosswalk just a bit further down, by bikers that took a turn in the wrong direction to park. Nobody seemed to think that traffic rules applied to them.

So I was always extra careful when walking up that street, never standing too close to the edge of the sidewalk, remembering daily how close I had been to getting a motorbike to the face.

It happened on that same crossing, precautions and all.

I was waiting for the light to turn green as cars drove by, looking at my now wet sandals and legs, and I didn’t have time to register what happened next before it was too late. A car turned from the wrong lane, again, and in order to avoid a crash, it swerved to the right at the last second.

The road was slippery from the rain and the oil. I saw the car skidding towards me in slow motion, blinding lights, heard the sound of brakes and screams and smelled the burnt rubber and the dirty water as I fell. I cried in pain and hit the pavement, acutely aware of the yelling of the witnesses and the blood seeping through my skirt. My head ached like it never had, and I remember thinking that at long last something had managed to crack it. I tried to move and failed.

I heard people talking to me, blurs in motion before my unfocused eyes, but I was quickly losing consciousness, and this time it didn’t feel like the other times I had passed out. But as always, no matter how much I tried to fight it, my body was firm in its decision to shut out, and I was helpless as I felt my eyes close and the world go black.

There was no light, no movie reel of my life, no gates to Heaven or Hell or anybody to pick me up, only the sensation of being pulled out, forcibly removed.

And then, I woke up.

At first, I thought it had all been a dream.

Then I felt a dull pain on the back of my head, and I winced at the ceiling lights when I tried to open my eyes. I heard sounds of people moving and people talking around me, but I was in a haze until I was able to focus my eyes.

I was in a hospital room, which meant I hadn’t died. There was an IV attached to my hand that I tried not to look at because it made me queasy, but that, along the headache and a slight pain on my hip, were the only signs that I had been in an accident. It hadn’t been as bad as I thought. Death cheated once again, I could add that one to my Tumblr list.

I looked at the people in the room. An Asian family that I assumed was visiting another patient, and a nurse and a doctor, Asian as well.

I wondered where my parents were, but maybe they had gone outside or they hadn’t had time to come yet. I didn’t think much about it until the doctor began talking to me in Japanese. I caught something about waking up, but my Japanese wasn’t exactly great and I was too groggy to decipher what was being said to me.

“I don’t understand,” I replied in Japanese, a thankfully ingrained response after years of lessons.

The doctor seemed confused. He said something else.

“I don’t understand what you are saying,” I repeated.

He frowned at my reply while the man and woman behind him stared at me with concern. There was also a little kid sitting in a corner of the room. He had stark black curly hair, a face peppered with freckles, and beady black eyes framed by thick glasses. Clutching a book he had been reading, he watched me with obvious interest.

The doctor took out a small lantern from his pocket and checked my pupils. He barked something at a nurse and the woman left the room in a hurry, then returned his attention to me. He checked my neck and my head, asked if they hurt. I said I had a headache. I felt proud of remembering the specific word for headache, too.

“Do you only speak Japanese?” I asked him as he ran his tests. “English? Spanish?”

The adults in the room shared alarmed looks. The doctor asked the man and woman something, and they denied it and launched into an unsure explanation. I didn’t get what was so strange about what I had said. As far as I was concerned, the weird thing was being spoken to in Japanese as if I had to know it. It was pure luck that I’d been studying the language for most of my twenties.

I let out a tired sigh, already knowing the answer to my question, and resigned myself to waiting until somebody saw fit to call someone I could communicate with.

A high-pitched, self-assured voice spoke up in English. “I do.”

My eyes flicked to the kid. I had never felt so much gratitude towards one in my entire life, of that I was sure.

“Thank God! What’s going on? Where am I?”

He blinked, looking thoughtful, and for a moment I feared he hadn’t actually understood, but my worries were unfounded. “You were involved in a traffic accident yesterday,” he said. “The paramedics tended to your wounds at the scene and brought you to the hospital, but you went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance and have been comatose until now.”

I noticed the kid avoided looking at me when he spoke, and that he was using some big words for someone his age. I had been that kind of kid, too, but from an adult perspective I understood how out of place it sounded. His English was also better than mine, which could have been mildly ego-puncturing in a different situation, but I was too busy feeling relief to think about that.

He said I’d been in an accident and fallen unconscious. That matched what I remembered. What I still didn’t understand was who were these people and why were they here, getting all wound up over me instead of my family. I had to ask.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

The kid, who until then had regarded me like I was a rat lab in the middle of an experiment, faltered. The man and woman stared at me with alarm.

The doctor said, slowly, maybe hoping that I wouldn’t have so much trouble understanding, “You don’t know them?”

The way he asked, expressionless, coupled with the shock of the other people in the room, made me finally realize that something was very wrong and I hadn’t grasped what it was. “No.”

The woman covered her mouth with a hand to hide a gasp, and the man beside her didn’t know whether to look at me or at the doctor.

The doctor asked something that I only vaguely understood as relating to me. When I didn’t reply, the woman approached my bed and asked me, teary-eyed. “Do you remember us, Satori?”

The words took a few seconds to sink in. I turned them around and around, trying to find an alternate meaning that I wasn’t catching. I didn’t. Who was Satori? They had confused me with someone else, though how they had managed it boggled the mind. I’d had my ID on me when I got hit by the car, and I was whiter than mayo on wonder bread.

I felt incredibly awkward when I spoke. “I am not Satori.”

Her face changed as if I slapped her. She broke into sobs, and the man that accompanied her put an arm around her shoulders and tried to comfort her. I felt awful. Meanwhile, the doctor, who appeared to be quite composed, told me, “Your name is Satori. These are your parents, and this is your brother Yu.”

They were all looking at me, waiting for my reaction.

“You’re wrong,” I tried scrambled to say my mangled Japanese. “I don’t know them. I am not Satori.”

The doctor listened, but there was no reaction on his part, too lost in his own thoughts to reply. I was sure that if I paid enough attention, I’d hear the wheels in his mind turning.

The nurse came back with another one, the doctor said something to them, and then he said to me something, that, again, I didn’t understand. The nurses got to work and drove my bed out of the room while the doctor stayed behind to talk to the family.

My family, I’d soon learn.

This was a mistake so gross that it was difficult to believe. How on earth had been those people able to confuse me with their daughter?

Every person I came across in the hospital was Japanese as well. The only explanation I could find, however feeble it was, was that I was in a private hospital that catered to Japanese expats. It didn’t make any sense, but neither did the whole situation.

I went through a scanner, several physical examinations and a blood extraction during which I managed not to pass out with great difficulty. I let myself get carted around, since nobody was listening to me and nothing that was being done to me seemed dangerous, but I was at a complete loss for what was happening until I asked a nurse to go to the bathroom, and she brought me to one in a wheelchair.

I noticed something off as soon as I got up from the chair and started walking, but I attributed it to the after effects of the accident, the painkillers and the overall weirdness of the day.

I caught sight of a reflection out of the corner of my eye.

I hadn’t even meant to use the mirror, but when it happened, I had to turn and stare, because for a second I thought I’d imagined what I saw in it.

The person staring back at me was a young girl with wavy black hair past her shoulders, parted by a white bandage stained in brown-red, dark brown eyes, and a face full of dark freckles.

I moved, and she did as well.

I felt my chest constrict, my breath shorten, and my heart accelerate as an all familiar pain burst inside of it. I saw the girl go deathly white in the reflection as a cold sweat covered my body – her body – from head to toe. I’d never suffered a full blown panic attack until that day, but there was a first time for everything, it seemed.

Even swapping bodies with a teenage girl.

[keenlovernacho-blog]

how i quit smoking

It’s midnight now Which spliff remains to be sitting by my ashtray. This hasn't transpired right before. If I've anything I would smoke. Quickly if there was no Remarkable explanation never to.

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Any scenario where by it feels computerized to have a cigarette is a induce. Once you've determined your triggers, test the following tips:

bob marley smoking

Identical below. Commenced all around 13/14yrs aged smoking hash about a mates house when his rents were being out. Now to The purpose wherever I’m in a very flat residing alone at 32 and not with my girlfriend. I messed up two previous romance more than not committing to it more than enough and I suppose residing daily life inside of my very own head. Had a connection where she was fine with smoking it as well as had a tad her self to now aquiring a romantic relationship in which she hates weed and it has begun hating me for it much too. I am able to’t blame here as I seem to be all discuss and no prof, arrived to the point where I thought I wasn’t happy coz she could well be stopping me smoking or at worse I will be lying to her to even now keep my means of dwelling/wondering likely how I wanted, this finished with me ending things along with her since u thought if I didn’t have her least I would've my own flat and Room to smoke and do wot I want. For some time iv been telling my self to stop smoking it not less than not as much as I do. Very well this wound up with me sat in by myself smoking and wondering more about her. Their comes a point in everyday life the place u want to do this however it’s the fear of committing to it. This created me realise which i had all the things with my ex And that i chucked it absent more than contemplating more about wen I’m upcoming smoking than pondering her. So iv produced matters get the job done concerning us in The key reason why that I will change the gap weed thing. My issue is I’m a skateboard and like most of us, every one of us smoke. Iv been an beginner skater for year and know the type of circles u wind up in but how am i able to even now contain the appreciate and keenness for skating still like every one of the posts say, is endeavor to not place ur self in the those positions, perfectly their all my closest good friends. And would modify them for the entire world still all of them smoke. This has now manufactured me Imagine I'm able to try this and at finest check out to generate someone else do a similar. However it’s hard and I haven’t even commenced nevertheless. Haven’t thrown just about anything away nevertheless. Haven’t smoked the last of my weed, haven’t stopped viewing my buddies. But I think the another thing I've is usually that providing up an habit is never likely to be straightforward. Yet we all detail we could do it. I feel the way for me to do this is ensuring ur legitimate to ur self ahead of u may even say u can quit. I feel the outlet flushing it down the rest room and getting rid of all skins, grinders and something that’s appears like I may make a joint outside of it.

Other times After i had to quit for a variety of causes I could barely rest and as soon as I did I'd essentially the most horrifying goals. This time I’ve had just one single bad desire and the rest happen to be beautiful.

[therecoveringcatho-holic]

mannn.. life is just getting so much better!!! i just have to share where i'm at y'all bc ive been pretty excited about who i'm becoming bc i'm actively working on my spirit and who i am thru Christ.

first off - i'm fortunate for past, current and future *pain* bc it's brought me many blessings and will continue to bring me more.. just watch. it's just all about perspective and mines slowly but surely turning around! 💕 pain is a blessing bc without it we wouldn't know joy & we wouldn't be able to help others with similar problems!! i def struggle with my own share of health issues, a lot more at 31 than i ever wanted to have but i gotta be realistic about it: i treated my mind, body and spirit like a trash can off and on for the better part of a decade, i have trauma that i wouldn't dive into - like for real, for real - until 2 years ago or so bc i kept wanting to mask it. all that did was make it fester and then i projected it on others so what should i expect you know?? i used to complain constantly that 'life is not fair' and until very recently, i couldn't turn that around in my head and look at it positively .. like I AM ACTUALLY GLAD it's not bc if it was fair then i should have died yearssss ago.. one way or another esp if you look at it from a scientific standpoint. i may not know what my purpose is in life y'all but it's not my job to figure that out, it's my job to trust The Lord and His plan for me even if it doesn't always make sense to me. He is a God beyond my understanding and letting Him run the show makes life a lot better. we're not meant to have it easy but we weren't designed to make it so hard on ourselves or others either. He provides us the tools, it's just a matter of if we choose to use them or not. we all struggle so let's help each other out but the right thing is usually not the easy one so be proud of yourself when you make good decisions, no matter how small. the small things become big things; choices become habits -- that can be good or bad so make it a good thing 😘

one main problem i've always struggled with is consistency, esp when it comes to obeying The Lord. i am finally aware that my behavior does NOT affect Gods love for me bc He's an unconditional, loving God but my behavior dictates how much easier or harder life becomes for me.. and it's a daily thing y'all but it is for a lot of people, not just me. i just know that when i impulsively react to somebody or something, my

m o u t h is the first to go 😬😏SOOOO now im pretty good at waiting it out and if i think the same thing 2 mins later or so, you bet i'm gonna say it bc i'm blunt like that and i don't care to sugarcoat my thoughts BUT i also don't have to be hateful/disrespectful about it.. so that's been a turn around, for sure! 🙏 most people have a filter and i seem to lack one so i'm trying to develop one.. haha, it's funny but it's not at the same time.. actually it's been quite debilitating, really. my impulsivity and my mouth have burnt a lot of bridges in my life. not everybody or everything deserves a reaction and i don't need to waste my energy on things that arent my business -- and huge surprise here guys -- there is a LOT of stuff that is not my business so i take my nose out of it now 😜. i thrived off the drama and chaos for so long bc i didn't wanna look inward at myself and work on what was actually wrong -- which was me and my spirit. i am blessed for awareness and personal perspective.. it is everything.

ive been going back to AA and someone mentioned that theyve been praying for people that they have issues with, don't like or whatever the case may be and it's been helping them change their reaction/perspective towards that individual. at the end of the day, people are gonna do what they're gonna do but the way i choose to respond to it says everything about me, not them. that's why i love "The Four Agreements" book so much -- seriously life changing bc it's helped me realized that like i had so much displaced anger for so long and made it about everybody else and "what they did to me" , how "i'm not like everybody else", "why do they have a career / family / house and i don't?" WHATEVERRRR blah blah blah 😑 when at the end of the day, it had nothing to do with them. i was unhappy with myself, pissed that i got "cursed" with alcoholism and depression, sleep issues, etc. so instead of looking at it my difficulties as strengths and blessings, i had my own definition of what successful, happy people looked like or what they had and i was straight up mad and jealous of y'all. like how dare y'all have it so easy, right?! 🙄 omg hahaha how delusional is that!!! NOBODY has it easy!!! we all have something man and just because others may not see it doesn't mean it's not there!!!

"be kind.. for we are all fighting a battle others know nothing about." amen!!

my life has turned out to be nothinggggg of what i thought it was gonna be .. and i'm at a place of acceptance about it now and what a blessing it is to feel at peace more often than not. i think the real definition of serenity is when you stop wishing you had a different past and appreciate what God trusted you to go thru bc He knew Y O U could handle it 🥰

my alcoholism has about damn killed me but i'm resilient and ive been able to help others who battle my demon too; my depression has helped me understand deep sadness and how not running away or being scared of somebody bc of that can really change another persons life for the better.. one conversation can literally save somebody's life so don't underestimate what it means when someone disabled from depresssion reaches out to you bc you could be a life changer to them, i know this from experience. sleep issues suck but i've had a lot of deep, thought provoking conversations at 3a, ill tell ya that! but lately i sleep better bc i'm getting the garbage out of my soul and giving myself some grace. i'm blessed to not hold on to people who left me during my darkest hour bc they weren't meant to see me grow and to take part in my joy now.. it's all how you look at it!! i tried holding on to soooo many people for so long and now i just feel free of that negativity .. and i'm sure some people feel the same about me these last few years.. i was very toxic to some people so they were right to let me go as well. there's always two sides to everything y'all -- like be blessed for those who have let you down!! now you have room for people who are loyal and worth your damn time!! but as i just mentioned, i had to look in the mirror though and humble myself bc at one point or another, i was "that person" on more than one occasion that let somebody down and perspective on that is key to moving forward and not hurting somebody like that again. hurt people hurt people and i was the queen of that. when i get what i feel is a proper amount of time under my belt, i have so many amends to make that its quite.. sick, really. in the 5 years i've been in and out of AA, ive only been told to F off and/or burn in hell twice after trying to make an amends so that's better than i deserve lol most have been receptive of my amends but this will be the second round for some of those same people and i don't expect the same forgiveness i got the first time bc i don't deserve it. i'll also be frank with you .. some people i don't want to make amends to bc i don't feel they deserve it so clearly i still have work to do on my heart and hopefully thru the program and in time, i will feel differently but right now that's honestly how i feel.

to sum it all up, here are some things that help me:

-if you have to hide it, don't do it. -chaos always proceeds change.

-people will treat you with as much respect as you show yourself (thank you Lord for helping me with this one!!)

-validation may come from other people but that's just temporary. if you ain't happy in YOUR heart, with who YOU are.. check your morals and standards my dear! it doesn't matter if the entire world thinks you're great -- you need to KNOW & BELIEVE you are and that begins with the belief system you set for yourself!

- the saying "one foot in front of the other" goes a long way.. act blessed and you'll become blessed; no matter how stupid it sounds in your head, talk kindly to yourself until you believe it -- affirmations work, i swear!!! most importantly, show others grace so you'll eventually show yourself some 💕

i am a sinner but i am not my mistakes. my alcoholic demon is strong but God is stronger.. and thru Him, so am i. without my community from TN to NC to GA, my friends, my family of choice, my medical team and The Lord God, id be an empty shell of a person still at the bottom of a bottle at all hours of the day wanting to die every second i was breathing.. yes, it got that bad more times than i can count so THANK YOU to everyone who has given a shit about me and this crazy life i've had!!! once i realized that roughly 10% of my life is whats happened to me and came to accept that 90% of my life were problems that i created myself, was when i was able to become grateful for all the problems i DONT have & blessed that although some bridges are forever burned, there are many that are not!!! if i continue to act right, i have beautiful opportunities to improve myself and my relationships, the most important one being with God.

i know ive got some haters but i don't view them as enemies anymore bc i don't like harboring anger in my heart anymore .. it doesn't feel good and it only speaks to my own personal insecurity when i've talked poorly of somebody in the past. ive never quoted tupac in my life but there's a first time for everything 🤣 "i want you to eat, just not at my table." to the people i don't like and to those that don't like me, let's pray for each other. everybody deserves happiness and to thrive in their own way.. i'm not gonna be apart of some people's lives and BOTH of us are better because of it! God, i loveeee acceptance!!!! 🙌

above all.. do & be YOU, boo boo!

if it matters any, i think you're pretty great! 😋😙

as alwaysss, much love from knox & prayers to friends in mid tenn!! hope everyone is safe!! 🙏

xoxo

kels

[chainedtothedarkness]

its 1:26am rn and i can feel the delirium sinking in, in my insomniac state that has been the new 1-5am usual these past weeks

atm i just feel.....a lot of pain

i feel so much emotional pain

and it makes my chest hurt a lot. its hard to breathe

its not like anything happened?? like, literally, ive just been here idling around for hours and only now within these hours have begun to feel very...lonely

is lonely the right word? i do feel very alone, and i feel somehow neglected

i seem to have a habit of caring about and wanting to talk to people who dont want to talk to me. and its. painful

it’s really painful.

that, and everyone who normally would talk to me all seem to be busy with their own health and irl things. i cant complain about that. i just dont know how to be okay with being alone anymore

ive become too dependent on others for my happiness, i think

when i talk with my friends and we have a good time...thats the happiest i get

i thrive on others’ presence and support

and i wither when the persons i want the most, arent around

or the persons i try to reach out to, consistently shut me out instead

im. going in circles right now i think

but...i used to be my own number one fan, i used to think i was awesome. i could do things on my own like draw or write or make games or anything, without the aching, nagging need for validation

i used to be able to trust my own judgement, my own desires...

i dont anymore

i haven’t for years

i’m always second-guessing myself. i dont feel worthy of things. i dont enjoy or like things i create, if i go solely by my own inner feedback. i do get excited about an idea or so, but it quickly fades without anyone’s encouragement once i have the chance to step back and over-analyze it until it all seems foolish and worthless.

and for all the effort it costs me to do things

for all the migraines and headaches, all the backaches, all the muscle/joint pains, all the blurred visions, all the dizziness, all the nausea... what i manage to do, is never enough. is never worth the cost. so i end up not wanting to invest these costs into such low payouts, no matter how much i want to do something. i’ll have an idea of something to create, then when i create it, or in the process of creation, these costs will manifest and it never seems worth it.

i really...dont know how to be happy with myself anymore.

i even considered trying to get back into reading things again. if creating is such a burden, maybe i can escape through reading like i used to. but i cant do that either, because i can only read a few paragraphs before i get those migraines. only a few, before i’m in pain.

it’s been years. nine years now.

after reading an article recently, i’ve grown aware that i’m extremely burnt out. because despite everything, i have to keep pushing through it even if im unhappy. even if i pass out from overexertion. and it never feels worth it. i got perfect grades in both my courses last semester, and i felt...nothing. it felt like an expectation. a must. instead of an achievement. i wasn’t happy. i’m still not happy. i still feel numb about it even after my parents and sister were so overjoyed and amazed. the perfect 100′s, perfect a’s, meant nothing more than simply not failing - in which scenario i would have felt awful. i cant fail. i cant let myself fail. and i cant just do average, either. i have to do well. i have to just do things, and do them well. it’s all simply doing what i’m “supposed” to.

its the same with creating. i might want to do them, but it’s never satisfying to me in the end. in no time it becomes, why am i only doing this when i should’ve been so much better by this time? why only this, when i should have gotten so much more done? it all feels like a chore after the initial inspiration wears down. i should finish this. i should do it properly. why cant i do it better, when i know that im capable of doing so? why do i stay lacking? people worse off than me have achieved so much more. people worse off, have been able to push themselves regardless. i’m one of the lucky ones, with so little things to do. so little responsibilities. so why?

it feeds into my self hatred. because i’m not enough. i’m not enough to be a good friend, a good reader, a good artist, a good writer, a good anything. i can’t enjoy anything on my own. so i need someone else there. i need people that i feel happy talking to, who understand me. but those persons...have their own issues and troubles to worry about. it’s not fair for me to burden them.

so i have to stay alone. alone with this me that wallows in their own frustration and sadness and inferiority. it’s not good.

none of this is good.

...its 1:49 now. and my hands and arms are hurting a lot after just writing all of this aimlessly. but im not tired yet. my mind is wide awake. even if i tried to sleep, i wouldnt be able to right now.

i dont know what to do now... but i have to stop writing or else ill regret it even more

so..... whatever, i guess

[extremelyaverageincrediblynormal]

I think its time to update this thing with everything that has been going on. A lot of beautiful things have happened the past 6 months, but when i look back, its a supercut of mental breakdowns and self harm. Surprisingly, i havent seriously thought about killing myself, but I am definitely putting a strain on my mental health, and i dont think i saw the signs until i was 4-5 months deep. until i was at the hospital. until i was crying in my work bathroom every day for 5 days. and even then, i still tried to keep telling myself if i give up, i am mentally weak. i still tell myself that know, as i try to get myself out of this situation. so lets explain the situation. I will try my best to go back to may and bring you up to speed.

I started working at this job... lets call it, the hellpit. I started in February, and they agreed to give me time off in april to go to japan. I was pretty happy about that, but i remember about a month and a half in, i seriously considered quitting, and that seemed early. I was annoyed at the lack of organization with the products we were selling, and the extra stress it put on the front of house employees. The job ITSELF wasnt so bad, it was simple tasks that were sometimes fun. But the customers were the worst. This is a private club, so we see the exact same people every single day, and i work in a half grab&go half diner. And we get treated like we are nothing. most of the time, we dont even get a “hi” or “thank you”, but we are required to smile and be polite, tell the customers to have a nice day. One girl got fired because she didnt smile enough and was kind of a quiet person. oops. But then i got my best friend hired, and i started enjoying my days a bit more. Japan gave me some perspective on life and i was running off that energy for about a month. I was also moving at the end of may so that took most of my focus. I was then asked to work in the poolside snack bar/ actual bar. I was excited, it sounded like a fun, fast-paced environment. I feel dissapointed writing that because I was so wrong. It makes me feel sad.

I would be working closer to the actual manager. Now, there is drama going on with that. there was 2 managers, R and C. R had been there for 13 years, had close relationships with the people in my workplace. she was even sister-in-laws with someone there. And then C comes in, and sees that there is a lot wrong with how the cafe is running. she wasnt totally wrong, but she has a large personality and isnt afraid to shit talk people. she came in and tried to change everything, and I dont know exactly what happened behind the scenes but R left on a 3 month stress leave, came back for 3 weeks and quit. If that doesnt tell you something about what it’s like to work along C, ive got more. 

So this poolside hellbox was usually run by some other managers in the club, but C insisted on running it herself, putting her employees in it, etc. it was going to be the best year the poolside hellbox has ever seen. it was small, but it needed at least 3 people to run properly. Sure, it could be slow on cold days, but on hot days, it was a nightmare if there was only 2 people. Because we had to do everything; open, stock all the food, take orders, make orders, and pass them off, and close. it was truly exhausting and our days were always 9-10 hours, no breaks. She also stopped putting 3 people, brought it down to 2, usually 1. it was incredibly stressful. I tried to talk to her about my concerns, and she completely agreed. so i thought things would change. they did not. after some time, i injured my rotator cuff, and that lasted about a week until my entire back seized up and i had to go to the doctor. i was physically burnt out. and she had to work one of my shifts because i was medically ordered to take a break from work. writing this is making my back hurt.... funny how that works. anyways, i came back and she told me about how HARD of a day she had when she had to be in there for 6 hours. I thought to myself, good, she will finally understand. She never did. put me back in it, working 6 days a week, no tips, no breaks, 9 hours. there was a day where the air quality was so bad that my coworker with asthma expressed how ill the smoke makes him feel and that he cant breath, and she made sure he felt guilty for not telling her before hand. and then when we werent even making money that day, she blamed the people upstairs for not making the call to close it. i cant believe it.

the PSH finally closed for the year, but she wanted one more day to make a bunch of money. So there is another key player here. J. J has the title of supervisor but doesnt always act like it. C expresses how she feels about J often, and shes the only one who has the power to do something about it but does she? No. 

So on this day, C is not at the Bad place, so in any other situation, J would be in charge. But C insisted that I text her and listen to what SHE said. and she said she wanted to open the PSH 2 hours early. J said it was too busy and we needed coverage. I listened to J. The fact that we didnt open 2 hours earlier really upset C. she was so mad at J for making that call, and i was upset that i was put in a position where i had no idea who to listen to. 

So that was the day i decided i couldnt be there next summer. I needed to leave before the PSH opened again. 

And since then, there has been a lot of hostility towards me. I remember C telling me that people might not like me because she likes me, and people dont like her. that should have been my first red flag to get the fuck out. I honestly thought she was a woman of her word, and that sticking with her was the right decision. she made me all these empty promises, like i’ll be getting a raise in September, or that she has big plans for me and my career there, or even that we were getting a company-paid night to reward us for all our hard work. and what has unfolded? nothing. 

since then, it has been a series of bullshit. she comes down, yells at everyone and everything thats wrong, comments on how terrible the communication is, and how this doesnt look right, and how stupid everything is and how no one knows how to do their job, “except for you, this isnt directed towards you.” I have a feeling it may not be IN THAT MOMENT, but im sure it has been directed at me at some point. Shes manipulative, and takes advantage of people for her own personal gain, and completely lacks empathy. If it doesnt affect her, why does she care. If someone cant help her, why does she need them. that is her mentality, and she is a psycho. she wants complete control, but does nothing to change anything. She wants people to do certain things, but never tells them. She is by far, the worst manager i have ever had. not to mention she puts out the schedule thursday night-friday for the upcoming monday. so, yes, 3 days in advance. I feel betrayed, i feel disspointed, i feel burnt out. 

She also made a sarcastic remark about how i could “never disappoint her”, which was the last straw for me. That was the day i decided i need to get out of there. 

So, thats whats been going on at work, but behind the scenes, i have been unraveling. My manager has qualities that remind me of my mother, and not in a positive way. it’s very triggering in a way, and when i feel like i have disappointed her, i have the same feeling i would get when my mother would be disappointed in me. when she is completely unsympathetic to me being burnt out, i remember all the times my mom told me to stop feeling sorry for myself when i would cry. so i deal with daily triggers that i have a hard time shaking. there are also some things that go on in that club that really disturb my core values. I am a caring, inclusive person and these people treat us like dirt. I think most people are used to it, i even feel like im less sensitive to it as time goes by. 

But i have been having mental breakdowns at least once a week. they were worse back in june or july, i remember completely trashing my room, throwing my books around and slamming my book case on the ground, and the colapsing and hyperventalating on the ground until my roommate found me. I remember scratching myself until i bled. I remember running to a park and crying in a field. I remember crying on the bathroom floor naked. I remember not being able to get out of bed. i remember punching a wall so hard i almost broke my fingers. this all happened withing 3 months. and after the big explosions came depression and giving up. I cry in the work bathroom often, i dont care about being on time, i dont care about my job, i dont care about my health or being in pain. i am in a constant fog, im exhausted and angry and i have a beautiful partner who loves me so much and i cant feel any of it, because i think i shut down everything so i can make it through the day. I’ve gained weight, i hate my body again, and i feel stuck. i feel ugly, i feel useless, i feel trapped. i need help. i need help getting out of this. i am so exhausted mentally, i do nothing with my day because im too tired. i am so incredibly miserable, i get those depression headaches every single day. I have a surgery coming up that i am not willing to compromise. maybe ill take some extra days off then? look for a job? rest my mind and prepare to job hunt and grind for a job that i might not hate? maybe i should leave now, go work at starbucks, see if i can get the time. maybe i should find a part time job, but will my manager hate me for it? does she already hate me for it? i just want to survive. i just dont want to get to the point where suicide feels like the only option again. I am not there yet, but its on the horizon, and that’s why i am scared.