#just a goddamn burden because i cant get any help

[kasarian]

im glad to be friends with one person who at least gets me and is so very patient with me even tho we dont talk much bc of timezones because if not i wouldve been worst off. recently been reaffirmed again and again that the world will keep blaming me for things i never did and will nitpick me of my mistakes because i forgot left something a mess after my routine of cleaning consistently or something like that.

[sillyparker]

(mcu!)Peter's love for Spider-Man

I saw a few reddit comments that frankly really bothered me, so I just wanted to ramble about how Peter being somewhat bothered by having to be Spider-Man in ffh and nwh (ffh esp) is more than insanely justified. He will never hate being Spider-Man, infact i think his trauma likely will spur him on to do more and more, either as an escape or a chance to help people the way he hadn't been helped, either way I believe post nwh Peter definitely still finds his joy in being Spider-Man, it'd be literally impossible to just up and make him stop. This part is more of a personal hc before I get into the rest of the post, but I think if he desired to give Spider-Man up after everything, he would have chosen to make the world forget that instead, from what I understand it would have still relieved his troubles, as nobody knows who Spider-Man is, so why would they know Peter?

Far From Home. People take the way Peter acts during the film as him no longer liking being Spider-Man, and it frankly feels very.. ignorant of like literally everything Peter has gone through, honestly. ffh is post endgame, which good fucking god - that is the most trauma inducing experience any possible 15 (16?) year old teen could endure, now im talking both infinity war and endgame, because both are just as bad. In infinity war, he obviously fights alot, not as much as he does in the second film, but it's still very rough, and well he sorta dies, which I'm sure takes a rather extreme toll on him as he could likely feel absolutely everything happening, because of his healing factor, and spidey sense, it's just a very very scary experience, hell I wouldn't be shocked if Peter was drop dead terrified everytime he felt his spidey sense, (he isn't, but I wouldn't put it past being very possible).

And, in endgame he had to hold the gauntlet for an extended period of time from an insane amount of creatures, he literally was holding the future of the entire world in his hands, I would imagine that'd be actually very, very scary. He's consistently put in unfair positions and made to just 'deal' with it, I'm sure he expected some of this but I cant firmly believe he thought he'd end up in such a crazy situation. Now, most obviously the very big part of endgame - Tony Stark fucking died dude!?!?! Let the kid have some time to grieve... not that he ended up getting any, he's literally already lost his parents, (possible uncle), and now his pseudo father, and shit does he lose more right after in such a tiny timespan.

Point is, yeah the fact he want's a goddamn break is not the most insane thing that's happened, god forbid a thoroughly traumatized teenager wants a break without needing to have the burdens of the world (literally) on him again. It just gets to me each time there are such crazy expectations for him, as if any a bunch other characters or people wouldn't literally crumble into pieces if they experienced the amount of stress a kid like Peter is holding constantly. We also get an actual insight on an exact thing I mentioned, where he has a talk with Mysterio where he just wanted to be a normal kid for at least a few seconds, and god is he owed all of that and more. He never got a break, he never got a real chance to comprehend everything that went around him, he got pulled into a fucking other world crisis and yeah - sue him for being exhausted, and not motivated to attempt that all again.

No Way Home. Okay, to start this off - What the fuck? I don't know how obvious it has to be, but the fact Peter is not ecstatic to be Spider-Man after not only having his "identity revealed, but (all I'm about to say is from ffh, still going to get into nwh in a second) almost being killed multiple times, been manipulated by another adult in his life, had his trauma and losses smeared all across his face, faced with taking down an entire insanely large army of killer - explosive - drones, also faced with the fear of accidentally being the cause for a massive incident", is a VERY fair reason, I genuinely think if he stopped being Spider-Man right then and there, everybody he knew would probably support him, because god the things he went through is mind boggling, I don't know how to capture the amount of damage that must have done to Peter, not even just mentally but like quite literal brain damage, he's a kid - no world this severe amount of trauma is taken any forms of lightly. (Which is sorta shown, when Happy goes to pick up Peter on the flower field, and Peter being afraid of Happy maybe not being real)

I wish people gave Peter more credit than they think he deserves, also god Peter fights to be Spider-Man still all throughout nwh, he does his 'duty' by saving all the villains (whilst experiencing the most heinous levels of grief, post May's death), and does everything he can to save the people of their possible destruction, etc. One could fight for the fact Peter.. sorta did cause all of that, even if indirectly - but honestly, I genuinely cannot imagine a different outcome. "What if he went to the lady first, like Strange suggested" It definitely would have not worked, she literally only agreed because he saved her from a being that wouldn't exist had it not been for the earlier mess up, I literally cannot imagine how he would have been able to get any of fixed or back to a state of tolerable at the very least. Peter deserves (and wants) to not live his life as horrible as expected it'd be, he'd never get to any form of normal again, everything he loved was on the line, and half of the world hated him, (alot, wanted him dead or -behind bars).

Peter Parker is just a kid, that is the first and foremost the most important aspect to his character, because the way everything is affected is so so different its ridiculous, the way he will function as a whole when older is very starkly different had this happened to somebody around the age as most of the avengers, all because his brain is just simply not capable of handling such amount's of trauma, or stress. And the way he functions now is so important too, because he's a kid, n' hell will it be obvious how childish he can think or act.

Lastly, another thing I simply hate that people do is when they find the idea of Peter having trauma unrealistic. I'm very much thinking too hard about his character probably, but he is a character with such complex details, and his life is splayed out infront of us through the films, giving us every event that could likely be a cause of something to happen one day, or something that is a cause of an action he already did. I hate that people think just because he's a movie character he's unable to be an actual person in his world, like how everything is simply black and white when it comes to characterization.

Side Note, - this totally turned into just plain out angry rambling, as I've been just annoyed as a whole ever since I started writing this all. so mind anything I say that may be incorrect, I'm defensive about Spider-Man at 8am in the morning and I haven't slept yet, so typos will be made, and some sentences will probably seem confusing.

(next day now and I think i fixed everything(??), I had decided to post this tomorrow/now when I was more comprehensible)

[peterdemo]

I'm Procrastinating

I had an incredibly busy day, i work at a bank so this time of year gets really tough and i had to stay till 6:30 to close up because some suit in Canada thinks it's real important that we take care of the 2 people max that come in after the clock hits 5. I spent the whole day thinking about what I would do when I got home and when I got here I couldn't do any of it. But for prosperity here is what I'm thinking about:

In the elephant 6 documentary theres this scene, a real passing remark where one of the interviewees says "everybody was doing something: writing, drawing, painting, recording, filming" and on the screen flashes these really weird sort of mercurial drawings from jeff mangum, the speaker says that "jeff always used to do these really recognizable little guys" I cant help but be in awe of the originality and the abstractness and just the will to live of these little guys that jeff drew, and its not even something he really cared about or put thought in. it feels like these guys in athens georgia were just screaming look at what a genius i am, and no one heard them but each other, and so they worked and worked and eventually when someone did hear them it was too late and too much and jeff went crazy and never showed his face in public again.

So yeah, i didnt get anything done. Because how do you think about that all day and come home and make something you are proud of. Im trying to write something here everyday as an open journal to keep myself accountable to what i think is important, im so prone to rot and do nothing and hate myself without reason, and i do truly love this shit, even if no one sees it or reads it or listens and understands. I just wish i felt confident in a path forward for my art and that it was easy for me and it just flowed out of my head like water. i know these feelings are apart of finding it.

The video linked above is a performance my bandmates and i (here's my stupid face) did 2 weeks before greater anatolia came out. we recorded it and uploaded on the same day. right after this performance im pretty sure i at least drank 18 spiked lipton iced teas, a really stupid idea, and i got more drunk than i ever have in my life, well, maybe not the most drunk but definitely top 5. in my head i was celebrating finishing an album, and i did really have a really great time.

the song itself i think is one of the more interesting ones on the album, its by no means the one anyone mentions to me when the say they listened (usually stele for bronze, or adam and eve) but something in me just loves the sparseness of the lyrics and visceral unexplainable emotion that it brings me, its definitely a creation of my own head though. ill include the lyrics below just so maybe anyone reading can tell me if im crazy or shit.

thanks for reading

Grasping an old familiarity so old I cant remember its name it grabbed me tight it wont let go of me it extends to mortal tribes of every kind I saw a kid diagnosed with cancer it ate right through him all on camera I saw it happen while i was laying impending self reflection and I was horrified scared of the burden i've been given grasping an old familiarity taking a step closer every goddamn day increasingly medicated to the truth the hand of thanatos would be so comforting so comforting

[faerunsbest]

I love Rolan for a million reasons( i am drubk thinking of rolan shhh let it happen)

but i love him because he also has a visible character arc you get to watch his character grow.

i know that as a partner he could ONLY expand on that ability to learn and improve at vast and unimaginable speeds. I don't think when you meet him hes a virgin i think he has experience be it very little and surface level.

i imagine by the time you meet him hes just past three, the most important three. that one child like love where you look and adore someone and cannot fathom the feelings you're experiencing and it is absolutely destined to be your very first heartbreak and for him its his fault for being clueless for not knowing what he was feeling until it was too late. The realization probably hit like a ton of bricks

the 2nd time he knew what he felt but had no idea how to navigate that feeling or what to do with those feelings. the first time he was pining and absolutely knew it. when finally he worked up the courage and stunningly they said yes to him!

and he stumbles through trying to learn how to care for them and when finally he does he realizes he forgot that he deserved care too. It isn't fair he gave them so much and suddenly hes left watched that partner be toted off by someone with more confidence and self assurance.

and by the god the third time around he was so SURE he was so sure he had it down- he must by now. he know how to proclaim his feelings, he knew how to make his partner know he wanted them. he knew how stand his ground and speak his mind- that he deserved care too.

problem as he lay in bed with them, they disagreed. he had miscalculated and given up a huge part of himself he could never get back. and now then, everything was wrong and he had no time to cope. no time to heal his siblings needed his mug confidence- they needed more than anything for him to light the path to safety. so he did, he gave his heart entirely to the people who loved him with their whole heart and isn't fair.

it isn't fair that some lunatic came marching down a dirt path caked in blood bile and mud and just looked at him. they looked at him with sad pitying eyes if they knew something he didn't. as if his weak arms could carry any burden. HOW DARE THEY! But lia smiled with tears in her eyes and the way cal sighed heavy with relief.

And this blasted lunatic with with such wild eyes and an unreadable heart left again, they where seen in the grove at a passing glance like a whisper- something you weren't sure anyone said. maybe you imagine it.

but you post certainly didn't imagine a terrified little girl crying and sobbing against her parents about a stranger that saved them. You didn't imagine the massive clouds of destruction over the camp so many miles away. you did not imagine them coming back and looking at you with pride.

and horribly you heart fluttered.

stop that.

again at some ridiculous part they stood nearby watching you kindly, hiding a limp. clouding injuries no one needed to see. but you knew something was amiss, and they smiled just for you. they clapped and cheered just for you.

and HORRIBLY your heart skipped a beat, the feeling making a tightness in your chest that you knew. and it isn't fair.

it isn't fair that you're bawling at goddamn bar trying to drown yourself away and they appear out of nowhere with those pitying eyes on you. they reach out and you cant help the spines on your tongue the hateful way you lash out when they SWEAR they'll save the others. They bring cal and lia home to you, blood dribbles out from under their armor and you- FOOL THAT YOU ARE! you believe them.

they disappear up the stair and world takes another turn for the worse and some how it is pulled backward. you look over your should and you see it- that moment that should have been their last/ someone strikes out at your refuges icon- its beacon and this bastard lunatic steps in the way, hands empty and arms stretched out. they pull Isobel behind them- their body only a shield.

how unbelievable this is the moment you know its too late. the thought of that blade striking them down leaves your body cold and numb and no one listens when you scream out.

But it isn't the end.

that precious lunatic bellows and roars and it rattles deep in your ribs.

They turn the blade, they turn the tide.

and you know horribly its too late.

its not fair, how could you possibly fall in love with this person who only ever gave you such pitying eyes.

You stand there at the bar watching them bleeding and pulling up Isobel, you watch them take hold of her soft round face and make sure shes safe. something inside burns and you look around. like a fool you're just sitting trying to drown your guilt when its possible! its entirely possible to do the impossible.

the feeling wears on your skin and your bones and the dark seeps into your pores and you're left with your knees in the mud feeling your eyes begin to sting. then all of a sudden a wave of warmth washes over you and its blinding.

there they are again.

in bleak endless night there they are light sun eclipsing the moon. it isn't fair the way you feel yourself light up at the sight of them it isn't fair how hope and relief flood you as they take hold of your arm and pull you up.

Those behind them smiling brightly, they look tired but assured, confident in the company they keep.

and it isn't fair.

but how glorious when you look from a polling stupor at the bar and see them. Cal and Lia slightly worse for wear but alive! Gloriously alive and all you can do is scold them! scold them for leaving you. You couldn't possibly admit to the terror that near overwhelmed you as the night overtake the day as the dark has overwhelmed this land.

by the time you find the words they are staring upward, watching the sunrise in once eternal night. There is a furious silver angel cutting the dark and leading that lunatics way...

and like a stark raving mad lunatic you feel yourself be overwhelmed with gratitude and hope. Like some psychopath you dare to stand up tall as you can and just fucking march.

unknowingly into the mouth of madness and once again when you are lost and alone and bogged down in the dark this fucking psycho appears again in the door.

They are happy and cheerful and at the mere sight of you that smile falls, but.. not in the way it seems.

a hand cradles your face while a delicate voice asks who. who did this to you, there is an outraced laced sweetly beneath and you can feel it. You try to turn away but.. the question is there.

naught but to do but answer honestly.

something you had never seen on them in all this is that quiet subtle rage. muted and quieted for release at a later time. more stunning when return again to the titans tower to rip him from it's throne.

You cannot declare your love... but you can and you do.

and as you announce your willingness to be exactly where they need you.. you see it. A deep exhaustion down in their bones and you want to scream.

you can do nothing right.

you can do nothing.

[lifeinthegladhouse]

the unfortunate news was given that my dad's chemo probably isn't working so he "might" have to do 30 day "isolation chemo" (?) which sounds horrible and scary. I want to visit him then if so... I don't want him to be alone for 30 days. I'm terrified he will be abusive to me.

when my mother died, she couldn't hurt me, even though I was terrified to see her. seeing her helpless body waste away from cancer was traumatizing but also released any fear I ever had of her, even though the memory of her abuse will always live in me.

my dad was not abusive like she was but sometimes i think he is worse for ever enabling her to be around me, ever choosing to "raise" a kid with her, comparatively, she had much less choice in her actions than he did.

i dont know what it means or if it will help. i didnt think these chemo rounds would help... i never thought my dad would get better... but hearing the advancing news doesn't help.

especially after watching someone's long term dying lead to hospice and then death and how irreverently it was handled, in this household (my partner's grandmother).

my dad will lose whatever hair he has left and im sure will look unrecognizable in a way.

whatever anger or apathy i have to combat my sense of obligation that shouldnt even really exist... i feel for him. im scared for him. i dont want him to suffer, and i dont know if it's worth going through.

i dont want to sway his decision, im positive he will die from this either way. i dont want to lose time with him, but ive already lost time. he's had 30 years to fix this and he hasnt...

i dont know if i can physically handle the grief of seeing him this way.

he always sounds livelier over the phone than he is, but... he didn't watch his parents die this way.

i will lose both of my parents to horrible forms of cancer (i mean, they're all horrible). at least Gene froze to death and it shocked everyone and he didn't suffer.

we've been iced in for a week here in p0rtland, and i got money back that i "owed" to unemployment when gene died. it felt like, after 3 years, he was helping me,... of all times to get the money back now... itll help me move out of my in laws... but a horrible thought happened... what if it's because my dad is going to go sooner than we thought?

i cant decide, anyways, and ocd is a bitch.

my back is killing me from days of making music and trying to learn mixing and mastering and animation and editing just for the fuck of it to stay sane, entirely diy.

today i cant focus, anymore... im listening to david bowie and crying alone and listening to my stupid in laws talking in the kitchen. i cant mourn here because this is a house of narcissism and enabling. hell, someone DIED in THEIR family and THEY wont/cant even mourn.

if my dad doesnt take the chemo, he will continue to failingly rely on his weekly (or more) blood transfusions. and eventually, he will die. maybe he will choose that to spare himself, and in a way, i almost wish he would, but i cant say i really wish that, ... i wish he was a better father, i wish he didnt have cancer even if he is 73, i dont wish him a sudden death bc itd be jarring but a long way is almost worse. i dont know what i want. i wish he couldve ever cared for me so that i could care for him. but what happened is he didnt care for me, and i care, but i cant care FOR him. i cant fix this. i cant love or unlove or hurt or unhurt it away.

when he dies i will not have any family left.

and then some part of me will be released from this burden of grieving a family that was always "dead" to me, but now, permanently, which will just feel fucked up.

ive spent 3 years grieving mom and gene. then i will grieve him too. when will it fucking end

in spite of this i have to work hard to perservere bc its what gene would want. its what my dad would want even tho fuck what he wants. its what *i* would want if i was diagnosed with cancer tomorrow myself or in 40 years. im terrified.

im tired.

im so goddamn tired

[traumagenica]

crying all day today because i am yet again in trouble at work for taking too many unscheduled absences and may not be eligible for the yearly bonus for a second year in a row despite that bonus being something i could buy more fucking treatment with so now they're making me apply for all the fucking leave and accommodations again even though THEY DENIED ME last time and i'll probably be on corrective action again which means i won't be able to take any time off and im so sick but i cant not work or my husband and cat and i won't survive and i feel useless and pathetic and tired. im so fucking tired. im so tired of being tired, and im sick of being sick. im a burden and everybody knows it but nobody who has the ability to actually help me has any desire to do so. i can't get in touch with my doctor. the portal to send in my fucking claim for the goddamn leave and accommodations broke as soon as i submitted the completed application. ive done nothing but cry today. i cant deal with this shit anymore but its not like i'm not gonna get on federal disability if i can't even get approved for the shit my job and state offer and if i quit im not eligible for unemployment so my options are endure the continual humiliation of being punished for daring to be fucking sick or die i fucking guess and its like. i would! i would die. but unfortunately my husband and cat need me to not die for at least a few more months, and my parents would cry at my funeral anyway and i dont wanna make them cry, and my brother would probably kill himself next and i can't let my baby brother die. so all i can do is just keep taking it and taking it and taking it and eventually someday maybe giving up wont be an option anymore because my body and mind will simply be too degraded to do anything but stop. like what do i have to do, take myself to the psych ward? hurt myself badly enough for a long inpatient hospital stay? not like getting sick enough to warrant a short hospital stay was enough for them, cause that already happened. why are my only ways out always institutionalization- which i am rightfully scared to death of- and dying- which i cant do without other people suffering for it. im so tired. im so tired. someone please help me. or at least just make it stop for a while.

[lavendersage]

i saw that post from the girl who's girlfriend isn't quite ready to be out. if ur blog didnt seem to celebrate love of all kinds (and i'm not talking straight vs gay, i'm talking happy vs sad) i would have kept this to myself, but between ur response and the op's story itself, i think im going to take this chance of sharing a burden on my heart, maybe to help someone else, or just for the shot at becoming at peace with it. a couple weeks ago, when u asked for everyone to send u stories of their lovers, i wrote most of this out but didnt send it.

i (21F) am a college student (god, is this reddit?). my entire life, i have cultivated the cleanest good girl image that i could. my parents sacrificed so much for my sister and i to grow up far more comfortable then they did, so i have tried to honor them with a little golden child they could brag about. straight As, never missed school, did community service, perfect SATs. i worked tirelessly to be on-paper perfect.

one of the reasons i've worked so hard to earn Good Noodle Stars is to make up for the fact that i am terminally homosexual. i realized real early that i could literally cure cancer and the first comment on the news video will be, "okay, she cured cancer, but at least I'm not gay like she is." i could raise thousands for charity, and my aunts would still say, "our kids may not get off the couch but at least they have sex correctly." so they dont know. few people do, none outside my closest circle.

in walks Mars(21NB). Mars is an anachronism. they are both a romantic with and without a capital R. be still my Dark Academia heart.

we got very close before school broke for Covid. Mars wrote me a letter every other week, encrypted and folded so that the only way to open them was to rip a paper seam that would show if someone had tampered with it. it was intoxicating. it was the first time i felt able to communicate freely about anything. i dont know - i didnt hold back my emotions, emboldened by writing in cipher. i spent all summer waiting for those red sealed envelopes, filled with stories and poetry and honeyed nonsense, and i refused to not respond with mirrored passion.

it was all great until it set in that I was going to have to face Mars again, in person. i prayed our school would decide all students had to stay remote. of course I wanted to see Mars, i want to do much more than just see them, but i knew it would only be a matter of time between us being reunited and them asking me out.

this was a person who crafted a puzzle where the answers were flowers that were a declaration of fidelity in Victorian Flower Language. of course i ate that up with a spoon. u would have too. listen, i know all aesthetics are fads and all fads age badly, but if the cottagecore girls get to learn to sew and bake and grow, i owe dark academia for teaching me the vocabulary and actions of my most treasured relationship yet, and giving me permission to be earnest and vulnerable in this life for 10 goddamn minutes. Mars is handsome and a genius and i was not used to feeling connected to anyone. but for all that joy, i was also drowning with the thought of having to break their heart by explaining i cant date anyone AFAB.

so the semester starts. Mars asks me over for a homecooked meal since restaurants don't exist here at the end of the world. they made me a beautiful dinner with all my dietary needs in mind. just like everything else i ate it up. and i made no effort to stop them from inviting me over for food and conversation again and again and a fourth time just to make sure it really hurt.

they kissed me after the last dinner. and I kissed them back, before stopping. they apologized for moving too quickly, but i explained that they had moved at the perfect pace, just with the wrong person.

there is no nice ending to this. it's real life. Mars took it as a breakup and didnt reach out to me again. i sobbed from halloween to christmas, i swear. i'm the villain in this story.

i started this post off as a sign of solidarity to the other young lady, but now im realizing that this letter would be better read by her fearful beloved, not her. it is 4am where i live, so i apologize if this has all gotten away from me.

love is a garden u have to water yourself. ngl, my favorite part about this blog is all the posts about learning to love yourself, learning to see ur intrinsic value dispite the core facets of u that have been deemed flaws, and trust the relationship between me, myself, and i.

i started out telling myself i was writing this to help the high school kid, but i havent shared this with anyone. writing this out has helped me process a thing or two, or at least start to. i like this idea of lavendersage being a kindly cryptid who will alchemise ur heartache into calm.

i hope you dont mind if i try to make this a thing.

my story is in the shape of a love letter. its tearstained before it even hits the water. i drop it in your river and watch it float away.

y’all are breaking my heart with these stories this week 🤧i feel so sad to read them and so helpless to respond, because i know how deep that pain must run and i don’t know if there’s truly anything i could say or do to take it away. but if i can lessen it from 100 to 99, well, then i’ll have fulfilled my goal of existing on this website. at the very least, i’m glad that writing this message helped you process some things on your own, but i’m happy to share my thoughts anyway.

your mars sounds like a top tier human being. victorian flower language? i’m swooning. it’s no surprise to me that you fell for them, and they were clearly head over heels for you. folks don’t make grand gestures like that for just anyone, that’s for sure 🥺

and i’m very sad to hear about the way things ended. but, anon, i can’t help but wonder if it is indeed over, or if hope exists on the precipice of a great act of bravery performed by you--something i know from experience is much easier said than done, and something i’ve failed to do in the past, so i’m not trying to be a hypocrite here. the ball is definitely in your court, though.

also...it doesn’t sit well with me to hear you call yourself a villain. i understand why you see it that way, as it’s clear that you deeply care for this person. but for many folks...the fear of what our family will say or think or do weighs so heavily on us that it robs us of any possibility of happiness with someone who isn’t the kind of person our family wants us to end up with. i’m sure plenty of folks, myself included, can empathize with this. and i’m sure on some level, mars does too.

my love, as with all things, i hope whatever happens next works out for the best, and that you don’t let this experience darken your heart. if things change between you and mars, please feel free to drop me a note. i’ll always be here to listen 💚💚💚`

[dread-and-despair-dyke]

Are you able to go for a walk? Preferably in a park or in nature? I know walking for 30 minutes to an hour while looking at nature or observing animals (or even just listening to music) tends to calm me down and put me in a slightly better mood when I'm in a bad headspace. Taking a bath, washing/doing my hair, using one of those face masks, etc. Anything where you're taking care of your body might help. And trying to be as present as you can and focusing on the sensation. I'm not the best at doing that but sometimes it helps when I get a little too stuck in my head.

I hope you feel better soon 💕

this is very sweet of u anon ily so much

it's like 11pm here rn, and i get anxious walking out in the dark so i cant do that rn unfortunately but i think ill try and go out tomorrow, it wld be good for me i think

as per recommendation of my therapist and other people here, I try to think abt mindfulness techniques and being present in the moment, but i think maybe i just need more practice on that kind of thing! since i can't currently get it to work lol ;w; i will try to get an early night maybe, and do some of these things tmrrw <3 <3 <3

going to ramble-vent aimlessly under the cut, nothing coherent

nobody needs to read this but its only in this post bc i thought abt it in relation to the things mentioned above

but i think somth i struggle with is having issues with depressive or anxious thoughts/emotions coming in if I'm not intensely preoccupied - e.g. if im showering or taking a bath (don't worry, i do these things anyway lol), taking a walk (dont do this one as often, whoops), other things where the activity doesn't require much 'thinking', I start to spiral into anxiety particularly in those moments where I don't have something to think about

And my levels of how preoccupied i have to be to avoid the anxious thoughts coming in have only gotten higher over time- now i can be trying to play a game or listen to music and bring myself back to focusing on it every 30 seconds or so, but I still manage to get anxious about whatever it is in my mind at that time. It is the same whether I am doing nothing, or am occupied with one thing, or occupied with three things; I can't let the thoughts pass through, they just stay in my brain stubbornly and don't leave until they've reached their conclusion half an hour later, at which point I am mentally exhausted from overthinking so rapidly for so long, emotionally exhausted from all the anxiety, and physically just kind of achy from standing up in a shower for half an hour. At which point, I get out and then lie in bed for the rest of the day because being alive feel so goddamn bad.

i think it's because, my mind not being preoccupied means I have to think about things in real life! ah, i get to think about such joyous things as: how absolutely incapable of feeling connection with others I am, how subsequently lonely i am, my actions and mistakes, the way that even my best efforts aren't enough for people, every hypothetical situation in which a problem might arise, how i should prepare for each of those hypothetical and unlikely problems, how i would fix any and every problem, how people perceive me, how i'm a burden to the people around me, the way that my best judgement will always still be 'bigoted' to somebody, my responsibilities that i have long abandoned, the people i used to know whose lives continue while i stay stagnant, the way that i can't keep putting off these issues forever, general existential dread...

...and other fun things to think about for half an hour while I stand in the shower forgetting that i was meant to be actually showering!

I have spoken with my therapist about these things before, I think. We talk through the logic of it, and of course there are always CBT sheets talking about how it isn't accurate to real life to think in such a way, and sometimes i agree. but even when I do agree, it doesn't stop the thoughts from happening. they happen whether i agree with the logic behind them or not, the logic is always biased in favour of assuming the worst outcome of everything, because that's just how I'm used to thinking. Because that's how life goes anyway, It's always bad, even if an outcome initially assumed to be 'good' happens, it turns out to be bad anyway, or at best it turns out to be just neutral.

There is no good, there is just hope sometimes, and love. But I don't have those things either! oh well. time to sleep.

[jiminrings]

something about making lists is just so therapeutic and it helps calm you down and i'm lagging on sleep but i can't sleep either <3 so here's the lists i could think of <3

things i wanna buy but i'm not sure if it's just impulse:

cosrx snail 96 mucin power essence something???? i see it repeatedly on my fyp and i also saw it on kehlani's vogue video and im just yearning for thee skin like that honestly

a baby blue cardigan with sheep on them because i mean sometimes i sleep thinking about it

a black carhartt sweater bc all the sweaters i have are of a white man i'm not a fan of anymore and whew did they cost a pretty penny

earrings and i want what tae was wearing in his butter photo but i cant find any links rip

an adorable lavender iphone 11 and now hear me out besties,,,, i swore that it's such an ugly fucking phone but now that the 12 dropped, then that means the prices also dropped, and well i think this is really an impulse since my xs is perfectly fine so im waiting for like two more new units to pass

airpods bc hear me out once again besties,,, i also used to fucking swear on my grave that i will nEVER get them but like,,,, it's been about eight months (?) ever since chimmy ate my wired earphones and i've been wearing chunky sony headphones (they're noise-cancelling and cool) that my brother bought and i appreciate it but i would like,,,,, to sometimes lay on my bed on my side without earmuffs on

thence items including airpod cases for airpods i don't have, a necklace, a lanyard, posters, tinboxes,,, yearning

onitsuka tiger shoes :D i have had my beat-up all-black vans for like four-five years now and i mean buying shoes in the middle of a paldogangsan is not exactly practical but i mean you wOULD also think of getting new ones when ur current pair is like rust-colored now

adobe photoshop aND illustrator subscriptions using my own money bc i've been mooching off from my brother and psd expired just this month </3 i kinda wanna open up a redbubble or so during break but like the series of trials im gonna make and the time-pressure of a month's subscription vs. the giant cost of a year's subscription,,,,, whew passing out luv

another necktie and some cute lil dog glasses for chimmy bc he was so cute in his necktie but my brother ripped it while taking it off,,, he's no doubt gonna attempt to eat the glasses but he's gonna look like gojo from jjk so i mean!!! right!!!

crochet/knitting materials bc i wanna take up a hobby but what if i end up spending money AND turning shit at it :// bae what do i do with the yarn??? BUNDLE IT BACK????

a humidifier bc they say it's good for your skin and seeing pinterest posts im all yes honey :-)

collect books for polaroids and photocards :D i finally found a link for cheap ones can i get a W in the chat lads

a heart painting canvas i saw from the bookstore bc hear me out besties +

print-outs of pictures or even my own designs (i can get send them to this store and get it printed) because i am so goddamn tIRED looking at my wall,,, im afraid to say that she is a misplaced common bitch with a mots poster i slapped on the middle

a bt21 plushie so i could take those pictures where they're tucked in bed or holding a knife or sth hee-hes

cute little pastel crate thingies i probably won't use because they're that cute

a laptop stand bc macbooks heave under intense pressure,, awhile ago i was backing up 38gb worth of photos so i can delete from my phone and i thought she was gonna pass out

a keyboard you can connect to your laptop bc it just hit me that oh my god,,,, one day your keys are gonna be so stiff from so much use and getting them replaced would be a burden

a red thread string bracelet because i'd like to feel loved pls and thank u <3 does my personality not tell you that at da very beginning

wait i actually cant think of anything else

YOOOOO IM GETTING SLEEPY

anyways speaking of, so back in like late december/early january, i started listening to sleep music right

i went from koya 8hr sleeping loop to chimmy 8hr sleeping loops and nOW i'm on this decalcomania 2hr loop!!! with 8hrs, i could monitor how long i slept, but with 2hrs, i know i could sleep before it runs out <3

alright that's it mwah forehead kiss besties

YO LMK ABOUT YOUR LISTS!!!! i'm nosey like that :D

[citialiin]

FIVE SONGS

list five songs associated with your muse and its meaning to them as a character, or to you as the writer. this can be applied in-character or out-of-character. it can go as deep as looking at the song’s real-world origins or meaning along with the themes it carries to the muses’ story, values, or experiences, or as simple as if your muse would listen to this kind of music, or even if you just listen to these pieces for inspiration.

TAGGED BY: @dansiere​​, who did such a good detailed job they even included an “honorable mentions list” ? i am embarrassed to type mine out now TAGGING: @blossomingbeelzebug​​ @zhrets​​ @dirtyfilthysunshine​​ @prcphesise​​ @hyakiru​ @foxcharmed​

01. kaun komsott - ros sereysothea

this song actually lyrically has absolutely nothing to do with ziggy !!!!  kaun komsott /  កូនកំសត់ actually just means “poor/pitiful child” it’s just a khmer dub of a song from a taiwanese movie lol but i feel like this is the kind of music he would listen to that made him fall in love with, like ... humanity, as dumb as that sounds. it’s time period appropriate (late 60s/early to mid 70s), the song is really good and it’s SO emotional.  i could see him sitting in the apartment of his bandmates after being “found” and they teach him how to use the record player and he sits there going through each and every record they have and listening to this and its like the fucking scene in ratatootie where the goddamn rat can visualize tastes as colors but he would be so enamored with the song he would see it in colors or something i dunno.  something has definitely fucking happened to my brain because ever since nat and alex and i rewatched ratatootie we keep referencing it for our characters. anyways i ended up using an instrumental of kaun komsott in the final film i made as the song that plays during the end.  so this song just also means a lot to me because it’s part of how i made this character and the film/story i animated to go along with him, i am sure you are all absolutely sick of hearing me talk about it <3  

02. who can i be now - daveed booweyywywy now you found me, now can I be real?  can I be real? if it’s all a vast creation / putting on a face that’s new someone has to see / a role for him and me someone might as well be you

one of z’s most obvious character motifs is figuring out self identity through adopting different guises.  he markets himself as being so overly confident and almost arrogantly certain of himself -- rock god space idol whatever -- as his own way of learning who he thinks he might be underneath it all.  i think at first it started off a little innocuous, a ‘ fake it till u make it ’ thing at the least and maybe more obviously a ‘ im not a human so i have to pretend to be someone else ’ deal, but over time it became almost all consuming and just obliterated all his previously held sense of self in favor of some weirdly demented version of who he wanted to be.  683 starts off with the same core personality traits as ziggy: maybe he’s a little vain, a little selfish, but he’s very interested in creativity/self-expression and he wants to be thought of as a unique individual and appreciated for his differences.  but the difference is that 683 isnt an arrogant asshole who has no regard for other people in the slightest.  so yeah ... who can u be now ... is it worth it to adopt a different guise or should he go through the effort of figuring out what parts of his personality were corroded by human influence and what parts are genuinely him?  my big endgame thoughts for his story would be that he eventually just decides to retire from the public eye and fucks off entirely.  this would be over the course of a long long long time -- maybe he has a good 20 yr run in the industry -- but there are some things about him he has to deal with (mental health issues, drug addiction, also the fact that you’re a freaky alien creature who doesnt age like a human so you’re physically like 46 and you still look like you’re 25?) so he inevitably decides he doesnt need the horrible pressure of fame and he ought to just live his life for himself.  i think this would be a nice final song for him to sing/perform -- then he goes into the dressing room and cuts his hair and just vanishes. bye.

03. sunny afternoon - the kinks Help me, help me, help me sail away Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay 'Cause I love to live so pleasantly Live this life of luxury Lazing on a sunny afternoon

1. i think this would sound A LITTLE like the kind of music he would write/play albeit i feel like his would be more exciting and have more samplings of like laser noises or pewpewpew or weird spaceship sounds BUT.  its also pretty time period appropriate.  even in “modern” verses ziggy is inexplicably obsessed with the 1970s, he likes bell bottoms and thinks groovy patterns are neat and he owns too many lava lamps.  anywayz. 2. just the general idea of feeling unfulfilled with luxury -- even if ziggy enjoys his fame and wealth and the absolutely insane amount of pussy/dick he gets at some level he is still cognizantly aware of how weirdly empty he feels.  he ditched atomina and came here because he felt unfulfilled and bored and unwanted.  now he feels wanted (clearly, everyone loves him) and he feels entertained (earth is So Good at fun distractions) but his fulfillment still isnt quite there.  he’s getting there -- but in exchange of being able to live this life of fame, he’s had to kind of change everything about himself and live this almost caricature version of himself, and he knows he cant keep it up forever.  the luxury will run out one day and he’ll be a washup and no one cares about celebrities once they stop being hip.  it is literally only a matter of time before ziggy has to find out who he is because no one can be a “rockstar” forever.

04. i hate jimmy page - mindless self indulgence SUCKAS CAN REACH OUT TOUCH ME EAT ME BITE DA FUTURE & FUCK DA PAST  I'm lower than most animals and fear what might be weird and all those voices in my head have every right to be there i ain't a girl just cause i rock the boat i ain't a boy just cause i rock your world

i mean he does hate jimmy page but that’s beside the point. its just a good song about being a crazy rockstar and has the same Craziness that i feel like accompanies his character ... just go listen to it you will understand. there is nothing to explain here.  even the lyric “ill show u how official midgets jack me off” like just accept it. it’s whatever  but yeah i aint a girl i aint a boy ... i guess his gender (or lack thereof) never really comes up in rp but its still an important part of his character.  if any of u guys ever call him a man in prose again ill kick ur ass.  gender is like an accessory to him and he just takes whatever aspects of masculinity/femininity he prefers and discards everything else.  to him he’s just as much a “man” or a “woman” as he is a “human” which is to say he isnt, at all, and he just pretends to be because he feels obligated to.  also ziggy’s brain kind of sounds like this...just Noises.  his brain sounds like a microwave that’s been going off for 26 years.  i think his brain is a single uncooked pinto bean rolled in glitter that’s been left in a box with a cobweb

05. ghostride - crumb daydreaming I stay in the backseat / the slow beat rocks me back to sleep keeps me on automatic  press my face up close against the glass i see the people when they pass they move so automatic you wake up when I go down / the radio reminds me I'm alive we've been hearing it all night

i care more about 683 on atomina than i do about ziggy on earth sometimes (BUT I CARE THEM BOTH. DO U?) so ... 683 feeling aimless and drifting but trying to find purpose through passion, a person, some sort of concrete meaning -- going through the motions of life makes him feel empty he spends almost every day going through the same toil while feeling guilty or like a burden and also feeling like he’s ultimately nothing more than a replaceable cog in a machine. his species had a near extinction = bottleneck which made them so genetically similar they’re almost clones of each other.  no one ever seems to do anything wrong except him, he finds no joy or fulfillment in anything at all.  all he ever wanted (which isnt a selfish desire at all) was to feel purpose, or feel wanted, or appreciated. inevitably he leaves because of his own imagination -- he yearns for something More, and he doesn’t know What, so he figured he ought to at least Try instead of waste his life away. also atomina is supposed to sound like “automatic.”  do NOT make fun of my bad scifi.  i am trying to mimic the way 1970s scifi is endearingly cheesy.  come here.  i just want to touch you with this knife.  gently tho it wont go inside of you. bro you are bleeding. bro we are bleeding and i keep putting the knife in your soft parts.

[zackfiar-a]

regesc replied to your post: grab hands at

ZACK FAIR!!! with his ideals of becoming a hero and making to 1st class while his views are being warped by the media!!! shinra is great!! SOLDIER is better because it produces some of the best heroes the world has ever seen!!! adults taking that mindset and manipulating him to do things for them, taking advantage of him!! altho i do think that genuinely thought for his well being but in the end its shinra that recruited an actual KID and not having the right mindset to turn him away because uh maybe taking child soldiers isnt the best play? im giving them too much credit

MEETING A MENTOR HE CAN TRUST!!!! taking every bit of information angeal gave him as truth! SOLDIER honor!! embrace ur dreams of being a hero!! whatever SOLDIER honor meant, if what angeal says is true then its gotta be ZACK THINKING THE ABSOLUTE WORLD OF HIM first seeing angeal as his mentor then a friend who he can be comfortable around only to turn out that he was an experiment from project g. i think that alone zack would still accept him because hes still angeal no matter its just how he went on thinking that hes a monster along with meeting genesis that those are wings of monsters!! sure zacks mind doesnt see them as that but the more he sees the horror of the underbelly of SOLDIER and shinra he finds that more true, that they are monsters 

BUT NO MATTER WHAT he still manages to keep a positive outlook!!! hes sad that angeal betrayed him and shinra, but as long as hes alive tho he cant help but be worried u know!! until he has to kill him by his hand and then well .... u know how that goes. 

i think out of all the ppl hes met that he can fully trust after that is kunsel, aerith, cloud, and sephiroth (even tho hes suspicious as well but even tho sephiroth pushed those missions on zack to intend to use him because hes a goddamn coward idk chief!!!) AND THAT DOESNT CHANGE when they get to nibelheim just gonna check a busted reactor u know skipping thru a field of flowers THEN BOOM u see those pods with long mutated humans into monsters and finding out what jenova rly is because genesis rly has to push sephiroth that he too is a monster and not at all human like he thought he was SO ZACK FEELS like he has to take the blame because hes the one that continued to push the conversation in that direction even tho he had no idea genesis was going to be there 

and then when sephiroth burns down nibelheim because hes a dramatic bitch and suddenly think hes god or something and i feel like zack is responsible for that too because u do see him in the basement of the shinra manor reading and he does try to get him to come out and talk but nothing ever happens beyond that so ofc w the burden that SOLDIER put on him, with angeal forcing zack to kill him, sephiroth forcing zack on these missions that deal with genesis and angeal, and even missions where none of these guys are involved, he constantly thinks that its his responsibility to deal with this mess which its not !!! zack shouldnt have to have this much pushed onto him!!! he just wanted to be a hero, not deal with the slack that genesis put down that escalated onto SOLDIER

and when hes put in that pod (oh boy i do love to talk about that), he GOT SO MANY OF HIS YEARS TAKEN FROM HIM. zack “im 18 but now im 23″ fair and he doesnt even realize it!!! he doesnt even know and he has to save cloud too because he thinks that its his fault for putting cloud in this scenario when it isnt!!! cloud shouldnt have ever come on that mission to nibelheim in the first place!! so now hes trying to run away from shinra while taking care of a comatose cloud which the most he can do is breathe.

and then when he finally deals with genesis and killing him off he doesnt feel any better than he did before!! talking it out was long gone esp with how many times he has attempted to kill him or take his cells because he was infused with jenovas. no one at SOLDIER rly thought of zack as a human tbh. not someone with feelings, a family, a relationship but ur a member of SOLDIER, someone whos all brute and only does things to help out the smarter ppl like. thats not what he wanted to be at all!! he was supposed to be a hero and at this point its still his goal but with a different take!! he wants to be a hero still but not like this never like this.

AND THEN THE SHINRA SHOWDOWN ugh !!!!!!! UGH!!!!!!!! he didnt deserve this!!! literally fighting for his life (and this isnt the 1st time!!) to keep going and to be free!! in canon he literally gets gunned down, but we dont go for that. zack is on the brink of death, but with jenovas cells aid him to keep him alive!!! not like he asked for that because he kind of like .... WANTED to die, as long as cloud was still safe!! altho that was his whole goal at that point was keep cloud safe (because even tho they were both fugitives, genesis pointed out that cloud was the last being with perfect s cells, so he probably also thought that shinra wanted to recapture cloud for that too even having no idea they were both failed experiments). 

AND HONESTLY HE DOESNT HAVE THE TIME FOR THINGS TO CATCH up like the fact that he doesnt ever deal with his trauma, its always pushed to the back to be dealt with later and when he gets to midgar, he literally has no chance but to face it head on. he breaks down too!!! putting all the pieces together but now hes in a safe area where ppl actually care about him!! and hes so grateful for that!!! but even after all this; after being used, manipulated, lied to, he still has such a hopeful outlook on the future!!! yeah he realizes too late that shinra fucking SUCKS and so does SOLDIER and anyone who would want to be in it is a fool but no one knows that besides him, kunsel, and the other 1st classes (which sephiroth is presumed to be dead), not including hojo, or the other scientists that helped create this mess. 

overall zack is a good boy and i love him ...... SO MUCH he was just an innocent kid and look at him!!! hes got ptsd!!! 

[swatato]

fat. FAT. P H A T RANT INCOMING FOR ANYONE WHO CARES TO READ THIS NONSENSE CUZ @haldidoodh ASKED

That episode literally blasted the last of my serotonin into smithereens but TBH??? WHO AM I MAD AT I should have seen this coming this whole volume has been such a headache. I cant be bothered to type up a coherent rwde essay on everything that bothered me this episode so im just gonna copy and paste my earlier yelling here instead ;A;

Team Rwby was god awful in episodes 11-12. They’re so self-righteous, entitled, hypocritical and cocky as a team and it doesnt help that they all suck as individual characters nowadays (except for weiss but even she lost best-girl points this episode also lmao blake and yang aren’t even INDIVIDUALS anymore they’re just bumbleby). It was annoying at first but now its just infuriating how rwby thinks theyre always right with their uwu energy and think they can do whatever tf they want with ZERO CONSEQUENCES.

Basically any time there is a problem in this show they have Ruby uwu at it and its solved lol.

They kept giving ironwood shit for taking on this incredible burden SO THAT NOBODY ELSE WOULD HAVE TO and rather than offer any real solution they just kept going “but mantle” like okay?? But remnant??? Like obvi letting mantle rot is bad but HE WAS OPEN TO ANY HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS CUZ HES OBVI AT HIS WITTS END AND DOESNT LIKE THE IDEA EITHER but yeah they just proceed to be the fattest hypocrites by hiding secrets of their own after being all “no more secrets uwu” and WHEN THEY GOT EXPOSED THEY JUST WENT “>:[“ (yangs self-righteous little glare here pissed me off so much oof) especially when ironwood was laying everything out in the open to them from the start. AND ESPECIALLY WHEN THE SECRET WAS FKIN “OH YEAH SALEM CANT DIE LOL” They watched ironwood make every decision he did in hopes of beating Salem while KNOWING she couldnt die??? So literallY WHERE do they get off on screeching at him with their yOu doNt hAvE to Suffer In ManTle YOu doNt kNow whAt iTs liKe bs. Wtf made ruby distrust iw at the start anyway? Because he had a bunch of ships out? They kept this CRUCIAL piece of information from him because he seemed stressed out?? Like what made ruby keep the secret from him. Someone tell me.

And the fact that rwby beat the ace-ops makes no goddamned sense. The power-scaling in this show is non-existant. We finally got to meet some pro huntsmen in this universe who aren’t teachers but are actually on the job, but because we gotta move out of the way for that 👌🏽✨ Power Of Friendship✨ and ✨rwby is always right✨ they somehow managed to beat experienced huntsmen with YEARS in the field who’ve actually graduated school??? FARM BOI OSCAR WHOS *JUST* LEARNING HOW TO FIGHT MANAGED TO LAND A PUNCH ON NEO FKIN POLITAN??? Didnt neo dance circles around yang??? Yang, who punches for a living and also beat mercury and adam??? I cant yall (and the fact that he didnt even bother to sneak up on her this boi literally screamed “no!!” as he ran down a hallway and neo didnt even have time to blink??? Pls)

Ruby’s “you were the best, until you trained us :3” -for maybe 2 days before my team went dancing ruby sis shut right tf up pls my god is this line just so. UNEARNED. Training in a room for a short while does not simply grant you the years of field experience the ace ops have and whAT IS UP WITH HER TRYING TO REASON WITH HARIETT AFTER SAYING THAT COCKY LINE AND FIGHTING HER??? WHAT and also like. The entire idea of “the ops lost cuz they weren’t good friends and were bad at teamwork uwu” is just so dumb. Ur telling me this group of high ranking hunstmen who’ve most likely been working together for at least a few years didnt have teamwork down??? Learning to work together is the most BASIC concept for a team to learn!! Its like the first thing a team has to perfect!! If the ace ops are supposed to be the best of atlas you dont think the ops would have gotten something as fundemental as teamwork down?? I dont buy it. And who gives a shit if they dont hang out after work or take selfies with eachother. Being friends doesnt necessarily mean theyre great at working together. If they succeed at relying on eachother to watch their backs, to keep each other alive (in the words of hariett herself) then Id think theyd know how to protect eachother i.e WORK TOGETHER.

And for all the ✨friendship✨ and ✨going through so much with someone✨ talk rwby like to do, the show barely displays these people acting like friends. We’re constantly TOLD how great of friends this group is, but the actual CONTENT we are shown leaves a lot to be desired. Tell me the last time ruby and blake teamed up in a fight. Or weiss and blake. Or yang and weiss. What teamwork?? Yang only interacts with blake now and weiss is only ever allowed to interact with ruby. Has blake ever said nora or ren’s name out loud? Have jaune and yang ever held a conversation between just them? Team rwby just spent a GOOD DEAL of time seperated from eachother, but when they reunite their teamwork is still somehow better than the ace ops?? Honestly its easier to believe that ruby is closer with team jnpr than she is her own team. If they showed the ops messing up during rwby vs ace ops fight due to lack of communication, then it still doesnt matter. My point is that they shouldnt have lacked teamwork in the first place.

Robyn was m e h this episode “JaMes ConTinUes to UnDeresTimAte Me” *proceeds to get knocked over in .3 seconds and is then KO for the rest of the episode* also great job for starting a fight and aiming to take clovers life in a moving airship with a terrorist on board when clover was acting PEACEFULLY and qrow was WILLING TO TALK IT OUT WITH IW and potentially work on a solution, but naw robyn is big mad and shall shoot.

Qrow made zero sense this episode too. I was with him right up until he chose TYRIAN OVER CLOVER??? THE PSYCOPATH WHO CANNOT BE REASONED WITH OVER THE RATIONAL DUDE YOU KNOW IS GOOD except clover wasnt acting rational in this fight at all and ill get to that AND IS THE ONLY FRIEND YOU HAVE WHOS NOT 19????? Qrow rly looked at tyrian- a man who is literally an enemy to all of remnant and went after ur neice- and said lets get rid of this punk together u and me bro. Like screw teaming with clover to bring down the dude you ACTUALLY have a grudge with whos also a serial killer and then trying to talk it out with clover whod be willing to do things peacefully why is this show like this

and AS FOR CLOVER. where were the braincells this episode. Qrow was trying to fight tyrian-the WAY bigger threat here, but clover??? kept knocking him away from tyrian and restraining him with his hook like??? YEAH LETS HELP OUT THE DEMON SCORPION CRACKHEAD HES CLEARLY NOT THE PRIORITY ATM nvm clover deserved to die there m8

His death scene was emotional and I feel bad for Qrow but u literally sealed his death when u ganged on him with tyrian so why are you even surprised. And on the subject of fairgame, im glad it didnt happen. Qrow was in no state for romance and I was glad he finally had a friend. He just spent the last volume thinking he wasted his life away helping oz, drowning in misery, drinking til he passed out on the street and so drunk he couldnt even be of any help during the apathy situation, when up til now hes been shown to fight just fine while drunk. I don’t see this as a “bury your gays trope” because clover was never confirmed to be gay and all their scenes added up to 40 seconds of platonic friendship. These two are grown ass men, if they had the hots for eachother then im pretty sure they could openly show it and not dance around it like theyre kids. I do feel bad for mlm viewers who were hoping for some rep with fairgame/lucky charms (cuz rt only cares if ur a cute marketable lesbian) but idc for the overly entitled fans who try to force their own headcanons on the writers and go feral when they dont get what they want. You dont just get to prance around claiming whats canon and what isnt. If rep is there then great, but if it isnt, then why not look somehwere else and let the author tell the story theyre trying to tell? Shipping fairgame cuz you think its cute is absolutely fine but not when u start getting ready to casterate crwby for not catering to you. Also, rwby sucks with lgbt+ rep anyway so what were yall expecting.

The only thing that was great this episode was the chorerography. It just sucks that the animation/choreo continues to improve while the writing doesnt. Another thing that really fell off this episode was the whole “we’re friends but we have to fight” drama. It doesnt work when its only ONE SIDE SHOWING ANY DISTRESS OVER IT. Only the ace ops (marrow, clover, the vine dude) seemed to show distress over having to fight rwby (it sucks that the only 1v1 weiss has won was because marrow was going EASY on her cuz he didnt wanna fight her fr) but rwby???? They didnt give any shits. They were so quick to turn against them and aim for their heads. They were SMILING as they ran at the ace ops, while they looked conflicted. If you oppose their UwU philosophy, you’re dead to them.

I really wanna enjoy RWBY but sometimes this show (and the fndm) really tests me. Its ironic how this episode came right after last episode, which I thought was the best chapter this volume. Anyway I rate this 10/10 cuz it gave me best character ironwood and best boi marrow and I would like to give them hugs for carrying this volume on their backs. (Also tyrian and penny and winter have been great too)

[thisartofeveryday]

For those of you who thought I should make my life story into a book…here is the outline. For the sake of clarity as you are reading, let me explain who the characters are. The kids from my Dads first marriage: Jim1, Patty, Seana. The kids from my Mom’s (Mary Ellen) first marriage: Mary Jane and Jim2. My brother that I am a full sibling to is Charles (chuck).

I think you might know that 95% of our lives are lived from the unconscious mind. From birth to age 7 a childs mind is in Theta wave (hypnosis) and everything that they learn in those years (mainly through observation and repetition) is the program that their minds run for their entire lives. Knowing this – I look back on the first 7 years of my life.

I think we moved 7 times in those 7 years. I am certain it was because of Dads extreme anger management problems and the fact that he is a sociopath, a pedophile and a rapist. Zero stability or chance to make lasting friendships. My dad was sexually abusing me and unpredictably violent. I was terrified of him. I was being terrorized/bullied by my brother, Chuck, who was every bit the sociopath that my dad is. My mom was overwhelmed by the number of children she was responsible for - none of which she actually wanted- and add to that, her husband was sexualizing all of the kids, so really being the last of her kids I was the last of her problems. Being the youngest (and as traumatized as I was), I was quiet and easy to forget about or push to the side. The older kids were the ones in the spotlight and where all the attention went. They were enrolled in activities and they were more the same age, so they were a unit. I was just an observer of them. I felt so left out and forgotten. Always.

I was a mistake and a burden (dads exact words to me on my 11th birthday). Mom made sure I knew that she thought I was mentally retarded- she would joke about it all the time. (I guess she never made peace with her sister being autistic) She also loved humiliating me even when I made it clear she was hurting me. Remember her sausage fingers joke or how many years I got called Boomer? I absolutely hated both of those things, made it clear, and yet she refused to give up the name calling and humiliation. There was very little respect for my personal boundaries. Dad would assault me in the middle of the night and I would wet the bed out of fear- then he would make me sleep in it to teach me a lesson. Mom would do nothing to help me, though she was awake in the middle of the night when I would work up the courage to go into their room to ask for help. She let him treat me like that. Goddamn…I remember the night terrors and being scared to be in my room at night because the scary man was sitting in the rocking chair, in the dark, next to my bed.

I have a memory of being in the garage in our house in South Windsor. I was playing with our basset hound, General…I was crawling around on the floor and the dog mounted me and was dry humping me. Dad got this sick laugh and let it happen. Mom walked in and got mad at him, but did nothing to help me. My personal boundaries were nonexistent. Nobody was protecting me from him. I remember him eating the food off my plate at dinner…or kissing me on the ear or touching me when I would tell him I hated it and to stop. I remember the baths dad would have me take with him and how he taught me to touch and work his dick. I remember the photos he would take of me after the bath. I remember being 7 years old and trying to lay on his bed and be sexy enough for him. I remember kissing mom passionately the way that dad taught me to and mom getting upset and asking me where I learned that. I remember having a baby doll that I drew all over, angrily, with lipstick. I remember being scared because my ass was bleeding and I told mom while her brother and sisters were visiting and she shushed me and scurried me away. I remember him also beating the shit out of me…sometimes for no reason. I remember being deeply attracted to and absolutely terrified of him. I was 7.  These are the only memories I have of my dad. I don’t remember him being there for me, or interested in me as a person, or engaged in anyway. I just remember him being what I now know is a predator.

7 to 13: I remember some stability in Connecticut because we stayed there for three years… but I also remember having moments of being deeply depressed and hiding in the basement of the house writing notes that I hoped someone would find, asking for help to get me out of there. When I look back, those were my first experiences with disassociation from stress and waves of major depression. While I was being assaulted during those years, those years were all about Mary Jane, Seana, and Jim2. These three had each other. These three were a team. I was just an observer to your lives. I had no voice, no opinion, no importance, never truly included and absolutely my feelings went unheard and did not matter. We can say it was the age difference, sure, that’s part of it…but that’s also just an excuse. Things could have been done to validate my importance too.  I had Charles bullying me….I had my Dad assaulting me. I was so alone.

My internal voice wants to shout: Why did nobody see this? Why did nobody help me? Where were my siblings? I guess everyone was doing the best they could…

Literally anyone looking in knowing the truth could have easily assessed that this was a horribly destructive environment for any child to grow up in. I know dad was doing this to all the kids. I wasn’t the only one. It is absolutely stunning to me that through the years of my life I have consistently been blamed by my Mary Ellen (narcissist/borderline personality disorder) and the people who chose to listen to her twisted opinions that there was something wrong WITH ME.  I mean, logically the mental health issues I have faced my entire life are perfectly normal and healthy reactions to a situation that was deeply flawed. But somehow the blame has always fallen on me.

The very first thing I think when I think of my mom is her asking me “Whats wrong with you Melissa”. Ive lost count of how many times she has asked me that very question.

I now know that its just deflection. Queen Narcissist cant take responsibility for her actions so she puts it on the person who she always denied a voice. That’s nice. Very loving and motherly. Doesn’t fix the 40 some odd years of my life that I believed her and wanted to die.

Right around age 9 or 10, we move again. I remember it being a big scandal – I think the truth came about that my dad is a sociopath, a pedophile and a rapist. (By the way, that’s in my DNA. I get to live my life connected to that. I look just like my dad. I think like a Painter. It’s fucking unsettling.)  I remember all the pressure to say nothing about the move and to constantly behave as though we were the perfect family and nothing was wrong. So incredibly demented.

I remember a HUGE fight about Seana and Jim2 staying behind in Connecticut. (by the way: I also remember Jim1 leaving for the Marines and wondering where my brother went and why he never talked to me. At one point he came back to visit and gave me a beautiful geisha doll in a glass box that mom destroyed in a fit of anger at me…she intentionally violently knocked it off the top of my dresser in one of her vindictive off the handle rages…Im sure at 8 years old I totally did something to deserve it, right.)

And, of course I remember the night Seana was killed. (why did the man that killed her not serve jail time? Why are bad people never held accountable?) Dad wasn’t there. Again, Dad wasn’t there. As I recall he was having an affair with some woman in Arizona? Mom was already distraught to be back in Michigan. That night, I remember being awake before the call came in…watching the clock radio in my bed… it had a short in the wire that would spark. I was listening to the Beatles: My guitar gently weeps…. To this day, I hate the Beatles.The phone rang. Mom screamed to you “Mary Jane, OMG, Seana is Dead”. I didn’t understand what happened. I just knew we were packing up like we did so many times before to take yet another long drive across country. It felt to me like another move. I didn’t understand death or that my sister was gone forever. I didn’t get it.  

(an aside: I struggled in school. When I was in Beginning Algebra One for some reason that class would make me check out and I would always soul travel to the night Seana was killed and it felt like it was happening to me. I took that class 4 times including summer school before I passed.)

(later, when I was maybe 13, my dog got hit by a car in the street and now I knew what death was so I freaked out like Mom did when Seana died and I remember Mom shaming me: You cried more over than damn dog than you did at your sisters funeral. Very nice. Very motherly. Very supportive and kind of her.)

At Seanas funeral, I remember not knowing what was expected of me. I was just so focused on getting it right and who I was supposed to kiss (because that sexualized stuff was already so ingrained).

There were so many goddamn rules for behavior, (rich white republican ex-military country club going family that we were) and I remember getting it wrong and being scowled at all the time. Mom was always angry and stressed out. We had to BE someone and over and over again: “Don’t forget the family name” and how important our clan was (hilarious that she kept the Sterling last name because her current husband is too ethnic and this sounds classier to her than her own actual last name)….

Meanwhile, My developing sense of self was being assaulted and neglected/ignored out of me and I felt wrong all the time for every single action I took.

I think we moved back to North Carolina briefly and then to Florida? Whatever the case….

Then we move again. Again. Again. Now we are in Florida. Im 10. My parents are getting divorced. Mom is deeply goddamn depressed. My family is falling apart. I don’t know where my brothers and sister are. Everything is exploding. Im powerless and hostage to all this. I cannot underline the importance of that sense of being hostage to a situation that I was powerless to escape and having my feelings and my personhood completely ignored and erased. It consumed me. I wanted to die. I am, as always, the least of moms concerns.

In Florida I was so incredibly dissociative. I was experiencing C-PTSD. I remember feeling numb all over. Having no ability to react to this little girl that fell off her bike in front of me….I just stared at her…the adults nearby yelled at me for doing nothing. I went further into my head. I was so checked out. People just thought I was quiet or shy or retarded. I was deeply traumatized and needed help.

I remember Mary Jane and I sitting on the bed watching this music video by The Cars. In the video there is a woman who is laughing and crying. I remember asking MJ what she was doing because I do that too and I think she told me she was having a mental break down.  

I remember getting a Walkman and listening to the Police nonstop. That was my only retreat from how much I hurt. WHY DID NOBODY SEE THIS AND HELP ME?

I remember during that time that I was given another baby doll. I remember MJ and mom watching me play with it to see what I would do. I felt scared of them both and the creepy way they were lurking to watch me. I felt ganged up on. I couldn’t trust anyone. I was so alone. I wanted to die.

In Florida, I remember my birthday and dad cocking his fist back like he was going to punch me in the face…he did that sick laugh and told me he wished I was never born and that I was a mistake. (later when I told this to Patty she explained he punched her in the face on her 11th birthday. Im related to all that. That’s in my dna.)

My body was changing. I was getting my period. I felt crazy. I was in that HUGE school in Jacksonville and I had no friends and I was so scared. Everything was terrifying….and Dad was getting more unhinged thus Mom has Jim and Lynn move in to protect her and had you come back… and then I remember walking in to the living room in the middle of a sunny afternoon and mom on the pull out sofa, trying to make dad jealous, was fucking the guy who was there to buy the house ��that we had just moved in to because we were MOVING AGAIN….

Not to mention, I remember MJ and I quickly taking Dads gun to the beach to bury it so he because he wanted to kill us all.

Im not even 13 yet….. Are you exhausted?

Any one of these things would make a fully functioning stable adult fold like a house of cards. “Whats wrong with you Melissa?”…. It took something like 20 years of therapy but now I have some clues to answer that question. Here are some more clues:

We finally make it to Boone. Mom followed her best friend, Mary Jane. After all that… that incredible pressure cooker of my pre teen childhood we arrive in bumfuck nowhere, North Carolina….and everyone is gone except the sociopath brother. The house is basically empty. Everyone abandoned ship. Where did my brothers and sisters go? I remember coming home after school and there would be nobody home. For my entire life I had come home to my family but now there was no one. I would sit on the couch and watch the clock with growing anxiety and cry until mom came home from work. It was beyond torturous. And then she would be pissed off that I needed her because she just got home from work. At this point Mom is just angry and exhausted all the time. She had to get a job outside the home for the first time in her life which she hated, she was sick of being a mom…she wanted it all to be over so she could have HER life. Charles was getting more and more abusive- physically and mentally and had to be sent away for our protection.

And then she starts dating Don Bailey. I think the sex must have been amazing because the guy was an utter low life. He was living off of her/my child support money… and beating the shit out of her. Their fights were never goddamn ending. I would hide in my room after school and not come out. I was so alone. I had no friends and no escape. Mom was friends with Mary Jane, not with me. Mom wanted nothing to do with me. One day we were driving home and I was so attached to her. I needed my mom so goddamn bad… I was struggling to make friends at yet another new school and the PTSD made me feel so distant from everyone but I had no words for what was wrong with me I just thought I was terrible at making friends (I remember this: pathetically I checked out a book at the library: How to be your own best friend)… She pulled the car over and told me “we cant be friends.” Mom has some glorified memory of us driving around looking for our favorite tree in Autumn… the only thing I remember is that conversation…her rejecting me when I needed her the most… after we moved to the town my sister lived in so she could be close to her.

Again, still no help with the major depression, the CPTSD… just a lot of blame “why cant you be happy Melissa…whats wrong with you?” and I cant be clear enough about this: all her spare time at home was spent on Don, not me. I didn’t have clubs and groups and activities that she as sure to enroll me in. I didn’t have my brothers and sisters there with me. It was just me, after all that, trying to figure it out.

I was a burden to her. She couldn’t wait to get rid of me and be done. I felt it always.

An aside: When she was unsure if she wanted to stay in Boone, I remember her asking Charles if we should stay or go back to Florida…after he chimed in with his answer, I gave my opinion which she angrily scoffed at me and told me it didn’t matter what I thought, Id go where they tell me to go.   My voice didn’t matter, I was a burden to her. I had no value as a person. I was powerless. So there I was in my bedroom that was the walkway between the living room and her room… at the mercy of whatever happened with no privacy or power over my life….. whats new.

Another aside: During that time we had gotten a dog that was a total pain in the ass for her to take care of. She gave it away while I was at school. I came home and the dog was gone and I was tearful thinking it ran away. She gave my dog away without telling me.

Then we moved out to Valley Crusis (9 miles outside of town…so isolated. I was so alone. The isolation was killing me. Where were my siblings. I needed help. I needed someone who was just there for me.) and Dons abusive behavior got even more extreme. I remember him picking me up from a concert that I was at….because he had sent Mom to the hospital with a sprained wrist and a busted lip. He was laughing about it when he told me to get in the car. Another time I remember Don looming in my bedroom door when Mom was at work and it was just us in the house… telling me: “Go ahead and call the police, nobody will believe you anyway.” I remember the woman who lived up the hill from us, with the curly hair…I think her name was Susan… coming down to the house while Mom and Don were gone and telling me If it ever gets too bad, you can always run up here. The neighbors knew I needed help. Where were my brothers and sisters? Where was my Mom? FUCK.

I remember Mom having many off the handle rages at me because I looked like a boy and my hair was crazy and I was so fucked up. I remember one morning after she had raged at me so hard that I was in stunned silence… we were sitting at breakfast at St Sinners and MJ kept looking at me, she knew something was wrong, I was clearly checked out and fucked up. I needed my sister. I had no voice or ability to speak up. I was scared of her husband, Glenn. Nobody helped me. Mom was the star of the brunch party!

I remember getting my first job at 15 and working at St Sinners…. Then, when mom bought the restaurant I stopped getting paid. She cut me off from my paycheck and told me it was my “duty to the family”… but she had Jim2 and his first wife Lynn there working and they were getting paid…and also stealing her money to fuel their coke habits. She didn’t value me, or my efforts but her golden son Jim can do no wrong even when he is fucking her out of her business.

I remember Jim2 offering me coke at a house party and John Golden and another friend getting me out of there away from my own brother. I remember Lynn being LIVID that I would stop by their house when I was lonely and wanted my family but instead I got shamed for thinking I could stop by and see them…and mom would tell me that “they had BUSY LIVES and I should leave them alone.”

I remember being so fucked up and alone in Boone….I mean, I now know I was just in shock and experiencing major depression. Mom kept asking me Whats wrong with you Melissa…when I was your age I had to choose between boyfriends… etc. Its incredible to me how Mom normalized my childhood abuse and completely erased my feelings or my personhood then blamed me for somehow being a problem child or wrong in whatever way….more incredible: people believed her.  

During those years in Boone I remember her doing things like openly making fun of me when I thought I might be gay, fixing regular hamburgers and telling me they were tofu when I became vegetarian…starting a burn pile in the back yard full of toxic things after I told her how important recycling was to me and laughing at me as I cried…..every chance she had to make me feel awful about being me and disrespected she took.

Once I visited her at her office and she told me I was “too ugly to look at and she didn’t want anyone to know I was her daughter and to never come to her office again.”

Shes right, we were not friends. She was a jealous mean girl, obsessed with appearances and her shitty boyfriend.

Lets not forget when she, with Mary Janes help, stacked my portfolio with MJs lithographies and coached me how to lie to get me in to Governors school for the summer. She wanted me gone and she got her wish. I remember feeling like a fraud that summer. I wasn’t good enough to be there. I had to lie to be included. I remember she didn’t even drive me there. She had Don do it. He harassed me in the car all the way there, 3 hours…. then dropped me…16… off on the curb in front of the college and drove away. All the other kids had parents excitedly helping them get set up in their rooms…excited about their major accomplishment of getting in to Governors school… I was there with my milk crate of shit, a fraud. alone. Acting like a tough girl who didn’t need anyone. I was a pro at that. Mission accomplished, she was rid of me.

I remember how deep my depression was becoming by the time I was 18. That last year of high school I would bang my head against my bedroom wall in an attempt to knock myself out, in hopes that I would get sent away to a treatment center or something. I couldn’t take all the fighting between her and Don. I fucking hated him and he was in my house and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to throw myself down the back stairwell at school. I barely graduated high school my depression was eating me alive.

Amazing that nobody IN MY FAMILY SAW THAT I NEEDED HELP. I was invisible. Mary Ellen cast her proclamation that all was well, she was amazing and I was a problem child and that was that.

I have a million stories about Mom demoralizing me during those years…. Whats weird is that I have no memory of my Mary Jane there. I think she was so involved with Glenn and way up the mountain, I had no way to reach her. And I was scared of her husband Glenn. And, we were never close. And, she was Team Mary Ellen…. So I was just alone and wanted to die. Sincerely. Goddamn. Let it end.

I remember Don telling me that Mom was using my child support payment to make her car payment. So I asked her about where my child support was going and she told me she used it for my Blue Cross Blue Shield Insurance…. So I called the insurance company to see if I had coverage…. They had no record of me. She was, again, a liar….

When I graduated high school she couldn’t get me out of the house fast enough. She pawned me off on my boyfriend Gebeaux and expected him to simply take care of me. We broke up. He didn’t sign up for that. I was basically kicked out of the house in valley crusis. I wasn’t prepared for life on my own. I wasn’t ready. She just wanted to be done being a mom so Hey..I came back to the house one day and all my stuff was packed and that was that. I had to figure it out. Fuck me.  

At one point during that time I was living in a trailer with my friend Stacy. Mom was horrified about this. I was getting food stamps and she was so ashamed of me for being so low class. She came to the trailer and was completely off the handle. She said there was “no air” in there and grabbed a 2x4 and smashed out all the windows. Mind you from her perspective it was just another example of what a loser I am, living in a trailer on food stamps how did I end up such a piece of shit when she is such a wonderful mother… it must be because there is something inherently wrong about me.

She has seen me as trash who is incapable of being anything great my entire life.

Somewhere in there she stopped dating Don and started dating lawyer Rand Sterling…who broke her ribs multiple times and literally pushed her out of a moving car and then she walked 5 miles back to his house to be with him.  That relationship took her to Texas. She followed the money. The insanity of that relationship is all I heard about from her. She needed Jim2 to come protect her from her husband multiple times. I absorbed all of this through her very rare but insane emails to me. She has always used me as her emotional manipulation dumping ground.

I had my first total mental break right around 19 years old. I was fetal position on the floor at my girlfriends house… Jenn… I couldn’t stop crying for multiple days and I felt my mind split in two. I literally went into a black hole and was begging for death. Jenn and the next door neighbor scooped me up off the floor and drove me to the Watauga County Mental Health and got me some help… but at this point I was having a total mental collapse… the part of me that was traumatized was a child denied her voice or any recognition of her Self, so I had no way to articulate what was wrong and Mom had denied and normalized the abuse and denied me voice and my personhood for so long that I had ZERO chance of articulating what was wrong… it was buried so deep inside of me and I was so scared to trust anyone…. I was experiencing schizophrenia and Major depression.

Jenn helped me with my depression. Jenn made sure I was housed and fed. Jenn took care of me. I owe her my life.

I mean, that is an extreme mental health episode. Where was my family? How could none of the people who were supposed to love me the most see any of this? Why did none of them help me? Why did all of them think I was to blame? (my guess: Team Mary Ellen)  

Somewhere in that year my friends were moving to Chapel Hill so I packed up the car that my child support paid for and I went down the mountain. She threatened to call the police on me for stealing the car.  She told me I needed discipline and needed to go into the Army. She just didn’t know what to do with me…such a problem child. If I remember correctly, you echoed her sentiments. Everyone was always so angry at me for being so wrong and so bad. None of my family (meaning MJ and mom because my brothers had long bailed on me and my extended family has never made a single attempt to reach out to me or know me at all.)  were my friend, or loving, kind or compassionate.

I got away….I went to Chapel Hill and lived with my best friends Kerry, Lesley, Julie, and two other guys in Kerry’s Moms rental house. I was working at the Columbia Street Bakery and dating this boy, Richard…. Who happened to be a really abusive drug dealer… who held me down one night and violently orally raped me and when I called mom for help she told me with the exasperation of a mother who had supposedly tried so hard to do the right thing and raise her child with love and support but that child was just tragic and terminally fucked :

“I don’t know whats wrong with you Melissa, I guess you just like the bad boys.”  

Again, no self reflection on her behalf…she did nothing to help me.

I didn’t know how to get away from Richard who was playing mind fuck with me and I was getting high with him (LSD) …which was basically, me being drugged and him using me for sex but not being loving or kind in any way (felt like home)  Eventually, Richard got busted for selling a page of lsd to an undercover cop and threatened to kill me because he thought it was my fault… so I had to get out of there and I went to New York to chill out and work for the summer at the Omega Institute of Holistic Learning… to just be around hippies and eat good food. I hung out with Baba Ram Dass and Ben & Jerry…and took a class on the whirling dervish… These moments when I wasn’t in the pressure cooker of my life were both brilliant because I needed healing but also the worst because all this trauma would start to surface and I didn’t know what it was or how to speak about it. I would start to shatter again.

I believed it was my fault and there was something inherently wrong with me.

I was so lost. I needed help. I needed a parent or loving compassionate family or someone trusted to guide me through that time in my life. I had no one but my friends from North Carolina who were just as fucked up as me. I needed help. I needed help. Oh my god, I needed help.

Omega ended…I had no money to get out of there, nobody to turn to for help, no clue what to do next, I certainly couldn’t go back to Mom who hated me and was living with Rand so fuck that… I had no idea where my brothers and sisters were and no relationship with them so that wasn’t on my mind as an option…..so I caught whatever ride I could get and ended up in Boulder. One of my friends from Omega hooked me up with her cousin for a month and I tried to make it work… it was basically winter in Colorado at this point and I was out there door canvassing for Green Peace making no money and freezing to death. Just walking door to door for Greenpeace… looking in on other families and their loving lives together. I was so fucking sad. I was hungry and scared and completely out of options. I had to get out of there.

I called Mom for help. She said: “You got yourself into this, get yourself out”…. And hung up on me. The bitch hung up on me. I was stranded and so scared and I needed my mom. She hung up on me. She blamed me. She wanted to punish me for being such a problem. She was done being a mom. She hung up.

I remember having gone to the Planned Parenthood to get some medical help because I was sick. I explained my situation and the nurse looked at me incredulously and said “where are you parents?” I explained to her that Mom hung up on me.  I was devastated, living in a constant state of shock. Scared out of my sense of self or ability to connect to the present moment.

I was a fractured soul in every possible meaning.

My month at my friends place was over and I had to find an apartment or live on the streets. It took me another month of begging whatever guy I could find to give me a place to stay and then I contacted the boy I was dating at Omega, Scott, and asked him for money to get a bus back to North Carolina. He helped me. Bless him. He got me out of there.

I got on the Greyhound and ended up going to Idaho to visit with my friend Stacy (who I lived in the trailer with) and stay with her for a couple weeks to get grounded and feel safe with a friend for a minute. My mental break was coming back full force. I was inconsolable.  I remember laying on her bed fully having an out of body experience from the stress and being so disoriented. She is so patient and kind. She took care of me. When my time with Stacy was up, the next layer of insanity: I got on the Greyhound and took a 5 day no sleep, no food journey across country. I got chased down, carrying all my bags of things and looking like a little hippie… on a layover, by a group of drunk men in Wyoming…they almost got me but I found a laundromat that was open and full of people so I ran inside and hid until my bus was leaving again. I was terrified. By the time I made it back to Lesley and Kerrys house in Chapel Hill it was New Year night…I got some hours back at the Columbia Street bakery I was working at and got some money rolling in.

I want to mention that Poverty, which I have lived most my life in, is no joke and more damaging than anyone outside of the experience can understand. It is cyclical, like bi polar…. Living paycheck to paycheck or however you get just enough to maybe hold on for a moment longer but never knowing if more will be coming is a terror. Always feeling like the bottom is going to drop out…and never knowing when youre going to eat…and what that does to your hormones and your mental health…. Poverty is proven to damage people on a cellular level and have lasting effects that lead to chronic illness.

After making it back to NC, few weeks later the boy from Omega came to Chapel Hill and told me he wanted to marry me and wanted me to move to Boston with him. So we took a little road trip and eventually ended up in Boston. As a surprise to no one sane, that was not a lasting relationship. So after a year of misery in Boston, (more poverty, more loneliness, more no family) Scott drove me back to Chapel Hill and that’s when the girls and I all moved up to Asheville. All the while, checking in with Mom who was yelling and shaming me for being such a fuck up.

I can’t underline enough: I was disassociating the entire time. I was having episodes of schizophrenia. I was experiencing major depression and bi polar disorder. The stress of my entire life was more than I could handle and I had no support and no compassion and nobody validating my experience or me as a person. People just thought that was who I was. I was just fucked in every way possible and believed she was right and all that was normal and I was a terrible piece of shit. She had everyone believing that.  

Mary Jane believed her. She echoed her sentiments to me. Go Team Mary Ellen.

I moved up to Asheville and got somewhat stabilized. I was again living with my friends and I got a decent job at the Laughing Seed Cafe. I met Mark and I had decided to go to college because I thought that would make Mom happy and I needed to DO something with myself.  

Mark and I were together maybe 8 weeks before we moved across country and started a life together. Eight weeks.

I was so adept at being a high functioning  dissociative major depressive and I had no way to articulate what was wrong with me (all that stuff that had been normalized and ignored…all the ways my feelings and personhood was erased)… I just knew something evil bad was in me and it took me out from time to time. I thought it was my fault and I was ashamed of myself.  I was living in a constant state of shock. CPTSD.

So, I get myself into college and thanks to Mark and his truck we move across country.

When I hear my friends now talking about saving money for their kids college and really setting them up for success by helping them choose a school and get settled in or making sure they don’t have to work so they can focus on their studies and have a healthy social life with friends and do activities Im so confused. I didn’t know parents and families helped their kids with such things. I didn’t understand that in other families they help, protect and support. I made it through without any of these blessings.

Mark and I get a shitty apartment (the ceiling caved in out of rot and the place was full of roaches. The property managers stole my drum set and we would catch them on the roof at night peeping through the skylight to watch us), I get a full time job managing a restaurant…in addition to schooling full time...Im overwhelmed by the workload, scared to be across country, freaked out by college and the expectations… it was too much. I was away from the source of my abuse and things started to surface… I NEEDED HELP.

I needed my family except, honestly, I have none. Additional mindfuck: when I tried to talk to people about this I get the old trope about how everyone has tough relationships in their families and I need to love my mom and work it out with her.SO I KEPT GOING BACK FOR MORE WITH MOM BECAUSE I NEEDED HER LOVE SO BAD AND I THOUGHT THE PROBLEM WAS ME. Further, because I was so regressed I just sounded like a petulant child when I tried to talk about the abuse I had no accurate words for so nobody outside the experience really got it or could conceive how bad things really were for me… why would they? My family is extraordinarily fucked up, like nobody I have ever known.

In college, nobody comes to check on me and make sure Im ok. Nobody was calling. Id get rare emails or letters. When I would tell mom how hard it was, mom would mock me and tell me to suck it up when I would reach out to her and “complain” about how things were going for me… See, because its always my fault and Im never measuring up.

An aside: To this day, 40 years later, Jim2 has yet to even send me a single email to check and make sure Im ok or get to know me at all. He has never responded to the multiple emails I have sent him, so I stopped reaching out. I used to cry to mom about it and she would tell me that he “has a busy life” and I had to understand that’s why I wasn’t a priority to him. Personally, I cant imagine anything being more important than making a connection with your little sister, but I guess Im biased and not like him: busy getting high and drunk and being a cool party guy.  

During my college is when he married Lori. I worked over time and got a plane ticket to be at his wedding. I was sick to my stomach at the idea of having to be around my family but I love my brother and I wanted to be there. He ignored me the entire time I was there. I was a HUGE FUCKING DEAL that I could afford the ticket and made the effort to be there for him. I showed up for him….He ignored me. I was devastated and felt invisible and so worthless.

Another aside: I was 24 and that very first Christmas on the west coast Mom calls me, driving herself to the ER to get her stomach pumped from a suicide attempt. She was dramatically telling me her goodbye in case she didn’t make it. I was stressed and powerless beyond the telling of it. I cried all the way through that Christmas. Again: Mom always uses me as her emotional manipulation dumping ground. Out of all her children, Im the one with heart and she gets the sympathy she is working me over for.

During my college years, I would ask Mom for help she would mock me “Im sending baby Sava (MJs daughter) a care package…are you a baby? Do you need one too?”

Mean girl jealousy that I went to college and her life was taken from her by her children….

In college I had no friends, just Mark. No time for activities and my mental health was so fragile I had no ability to form friendships. I was barely hanging on. I would be catatonic in my time at home. We had this geometry screensaver on the computer and I would be frozen staring at it for hours while my brain felt like it was going to shatter. I was an absolute wreck and a shell of a person…but I was determined to prove I could graduate college and I wasn’t a fuck up. I wanted Mom to be proud of me.

I guess it should come as no surprise that after 4 years of no time off, working and schooling 80 hours a week, getting zero support emotionally or financially from my family …. that absolutely NOBODY FROM MY FAMILY CAME TO CELEBRATE ME AT MY GRADUATION.

Nobody came. Nobody celebrated me. Nobody saw the value in me or my hard work.

I remember being on the phone with Jim2 the day of my graduation. I had called him to ask why he wasn’t there for me. I was in tears. He told me that if that was the worst thing that ever happened to me, congratulations on your nice life. He thought it was bullshit that I was so upset. He thought I was being a baby. This loser dropped out of college which he had a scholarship for and did nothing with his life but drugs and alcohol and saw no value in me or what I did on my own. He didn’t show up for me.

Me going to college and graduating on time with full credits was a major fucking accomplishment on so many levels.

Not one of my family was there for me and I will never forgive or forget that.

We moved to the same fucking town Mary Jane was in when she was in college and never ONCE did anyone come to check on me and be interested in what I was doing or validate how amazing it was that I was in school and making it happen on my own.  

When I talk about how alone I feel in life, its in my bones.

I had worked over time to get Mom a plane ticket so she would be there for my graduation and she called me a couple days before to tell me pathetically “She couldn’t get the day off work.”  (Lie: I think she has some legal issue and couldn’t leave the state or something like that.)

After she called to bail on my graduation… at 27 years old… I had a heart attack on my walk home. I collapsed in my living room. Mark found me on the floor when he got home from work. She literally broke my heart. I was devastated. I was in shock. I was dissociating. I was so fucked up. I needed help. Poor Mark. He didn’t know what was wrong and neither did I.

Shortly after my graduation, MJ graduated and she drove to see her and was sure to tell me about it. I mean, they are BFFs so, no surprises there. GO TEAM MARY ELLEN, right?  

Whats wrong with you Melissa? My family. My family is whats wrong with me.

During college I was stressed to the point of being catatonic when I wasn’t at work or school. My mental health was tanking in every possible way… but the pressure cooker of school and work kept me hemmed in and my desire to prove that I was someone worth loving (because god knows I wasn’t going to be loved just for being me…No one was simply going to show up for me or simply be there. I had to earn it.)

…. then we moved to Seattle and I had three years at Amazon in that pressure cooker of a job… (10 to 14 hours a day, 6 days a week) working as a Lead running a team of 200 people to keep me too busy to feel my feelings or connect to emerging myself.  

At some point after I graduated and it no longer mattered, I remember MJ came to visit me one time. That was nice of her. Thank you for trying, MJ.

But heres the fun part: Mark. Mark loved me.

Mark is the very first and to this day ONLY person who has been intimately involved in my life who loves and respected me just as I am.

It was Mark loving me that allowed me to start developing a voice and for that very young very traumatized person inside of me to start coming to the surface. Mark was the very best thing that has ever happened to me….and, ironically, it was because he loved me that all that evil finally came to the surface…and was our demise.

All the things dad did to me, all the never ending abuse from mom that sought to vilify and demoralize me… all of the hurt from the abandonment from my brothers and sisters… all that evil came up because he Loved me enough to make me feel safe and supported…I just didn’t know that then and couldn’t see or feel that he was the most tremendous gift this life has ever given me ….

and I started sexually assaulting myself in my sleep (woke up one time with an entire box of tampons inside of me and had to go to the doctor to get them all out). I would throw punches in my sleep. I was having an utter mental breakdown/ breakthrough… and then I started acting out sexually with other men that I met online. I felt like I was being puppet mastered from some evil unknown source. I was manic and acting out sexually. That default programing from my childhood was calling the shots. I didn’t have a sense of self so I was acting from what I knew and what Dad taught me about myself and the self-worth that mom made sure I didn’t have.

I say acting out sexually. What I should say is reenacting the trauma…which there was so very much of. I was on auto pilot and at that time if you asked me if that’s what I wanted to be doing I would have said yes out of programming but the core truth of who I am knew it was not at all right or who I am or what I wanted…that core didn’t have a voice yet.

2001, Amazon had laid us all off. I got hired working at a treatment center for abused youth.  I was major depressive and would be fetal position on the floor and cry for a month at a time but I didn’t know why or what was wrong… I was just deeply goddamn depressed and wanted to die. All the time. Goddamn. Let it end.

Poor Mark. He didn’t know what was happening. He was the perfect boyfriend. He tried so hard to help me. I honestly could not have asked for a more perfect man to come in to my life…and he was stuck with me. Mentally fucked Melissa with no clue what was wrong… and worst of all, I thought I had to get out of my relationship with Mark.

Crazy,right?….I asked Mom for help. She had no relationship with me and no clue what was going on in my life…She is a complete train wreck of a human and so deep in her own denial and so wrapped up in her latest abusive relationship with a rich man that she could honestly give a fuck about me and thought the worst of me anyway… so yeah, break up with him and oh my god Melissa I don’t know what to do with you.

I kept cheating on him over and over again. I was off the rails with my manic depression. Spending, fucking, driving my car too fast…. Through a chat room, I got mixed up with a man that felt like Dad to me and I was entranced and captive to him. Mark asked me to marry him and I broke up with him, moved out.. I was off the rails with the sexual acting out/re traumatizing myself.

(Mark immediately met the woman he has since married and has been with for the past 18 years. I would give anything to have that man back in my life…Throughout these years, my memory of how he treated me has been the standard by which I have held all other men and nobody measures up….Beyond his character and integrity, the art, music and intelligence that lives within this handsome and kind man is incomparable. I blew it. Fuck. I pushed away the most incredible man I ever knew and he loved me. I still love him to this day.)

At that same time I heard a rumor at work that one of the counselors (reggie, 24) had slept with a client(raya,16). I knew reggie was capable of it (I had slept with him) so I reported it to the Unit manager, Big Mike. ……What I didn’t know is that Reggie, Mike and the guy I was so into, Cash were all friends who grew up together and in the same gang……

and so it was that month that I moved out from Mark that the man that I was so “in love with”, Cash, drugged me at a house party and raped me with 4 of his friends to teach me a lesson for reporting Reggie.

I remember sharing a beer with Cash and then feeling tired and dizzy and asking to lay down and then multiple hours of being barely coherent and having no control over my body and being passed around for everyone to fuck over and over again.

Cash was a sex trafficker and grooming me all along. No wonder he felt like home. My need for family and my daddy issues in full effect, I couldn’t break the spell. I was terrified of him and wanted him to think I was so sexy…..He was masterful with the mindfuck and kept me under his thumb at all times which felt like attention and love to me and was intense enough that I could feel it.

At that time, in Washington, you had a statue of limitations of 8 years to report a rape.

Mind you, I was so dissociative and still had no idea I was a person or had any rights to my thoughts or my body… I was really goddamn checked out at that point in my life….I was in shock. The childhood assault trauma was just surfacing and I had no words for it because it had been normalized and my feelings negated by my parents So, I didn’t know if I had been raped or not….it took me years to figure out that its wrong to drug someone and have all your friends fuck them…

I didn’t know I should or could ask for help. I didn’t believe I could be helped. I didn’t think anyone would help me. I didn’t know I was a person. I didn’t know I had rights. I didn’t know I could escape or how.

ANYONE CONFUSED ABOUT WHY I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO GET HELP OR THAT I DESERVED IT???????

Whats wrong with you, Melissa?

In the meanwhile, Cash was making sure I wouldn’t report it.

He knew I was away from Mark, had a history of sexual assault and no family, and that I lived in absolute poverty so there was zero chance I could escape him.

I was in so much trouble. I needed help. I called Mom. I explained that it all to her. I explained that they were a gang. That it was sex trafficking… that I needed help…. To which she said “Let them play godfather. Whats the worst they can do?”….. (nice way to minimize the extreme danger I was in and negate me as a person, don’t you think?)

that bitch loves to see me suffer and struggle, doesn’t she. Doesn’t it make her look amazing when I look like shit? So she didn’t help me. She shit talked me to the rest of the family like I wanted to be in that situation because I was trash. Nobody helped me.

I remember talking to Mary Jane around that time explaining that I was getting counseling and she, like mom, shamed me and told me I didn’t have bipolar or something like that… She was Team Mary Ellen all the way and me getting counseling was just attention seeking or something like that.

See, this is why MJ and I have never been friends or close. I cant trust her. Shes not someone I think of as an ally. Sorry about that, MJ. Im not trying to be mean but… look at why I think that.

I really do look up to her though. She is so smart and capable. But I cant trust her and this is why.

By the way, here’s just a few of examples of the worst they can do while “playing Godfather”: They were so invested in making sure I never spoke about the rape they made sure I was living in such constant fear for my life (mental domination) that I was too scared to talk to anyone about it:

*They had voyeur cameras in my house…that they were making money off of.

*They had software on my laptop to collect all my personal data (social security, passwords, answers to security questions) so I am owned by them to this day.

*They had GPS on my car to track me everywhere I went and would leave notes on my car to let me know I was constantly being watched.

*They flipped my therapists office and stole all her files to make sure there was no record

*They poisoned my dog every day for a month while I was at work…I would come home to Milo cowering in the corner like he had been abused all day long and diarrhea all over the floor until one day I yelled out in my home with nobody there that I would find Cashs son and do the same to him…and I went online and found his childs home address…yelled that out to my empty apartment…and after that day Milo was never sick again….

*Then there are the 2 times they broke into my apartment in the middle of the night, drugged me in my sleep and did whatever and dumped me at the park. One of those time I woke up with half my face slack and paralyzed as though I had a stroke. By the grace of god I got the feeling back but to this day its still a little droopy.

*They sent their equally psycho boy Alex into my life to keep watch on me. He was horribly mentally abusive. I was so broken and demoralized. I needed to get away. Instead, I got pregnant. Alex also gave me syphilis ..and so I had an abortion. I had to get two Orders of Protection to get Alex away from me. When I called mom for help with the pregnancy, she was off the rails hysterical and I was yet even more scared and alone. Mom blamed me for all of it. Further evidence Im trash. I got pregnant by a mistake by a black man.

There is more, I mean it was 8 years of daily torture… but I think you get the idea. Complete mental domination was the name of their game.

I had no friends. None. I was so fucked up. I was terrified to speak to anyone because everything felt like danger. Just these men showing up when they felt like to to fuck me and terrorize me. Eight years. My 30s. I was miserable beyond the telling of it.

Whats wrong with you Melissa. I needed help. I was so scared. I needed my family. I got yelled at and shamed. I was so alone. I wanted to die. I was so depressed and fucked up. Goddamn. Let it end. And the worst of it all is that I really didn’t even have myself. I never had a chance to be safe enough to develop a self. I was a shell of a human. I was out of my head. I was so checked out with the PTSD and the trauma of it all. I was scared to be alive. Soul fracturing is real.

This was how I spent my 30s. Somehow pulling myself together to go to work during the day because I didn’t want to be homeless, coming home and having a total mental collapse at night and all the while being mentally tortured by a gang of sex traffickers and when I reached to my family for help I got blamed for being a fucked up piece of shit.

I had no one. When I talk about my isolation and how alone I am, its cumulative.  Its all this and more.

I don’t need to volunteer at a shelter on Christmas to be with someone for the holidays. I don’t need to get a dog. I need family. I need to be validated on a daily basis that I matter and am loveable just as I am. I need someone safe who is simply there. I need people in my life who celebrate me without me asking. I need people who are there for those simple mundane acts of living that define us…I need to come home to love.

The miracle: I kept myself employed and was successful in my corporate career path, I kept myself housed, and drug and alcohol free the entire time. I had the where with all to get counselling and try to work through my shit. I never gave up on myself even though I didn’t yet know who I am and my family had absolutely written me off from day one.

Then the Recession happened. I, of course, had never learned money management skills so there really wasn’t any savings to rely on. I was comfort eating like a motherfucker, I had student loans, a car payment and insurance and a foolishly large and expensive apartment, I had these lecherous men that were taking advantage of me financially too… I was manic depressive… I was paying for counselling (which if I am not mistaken over the years has totaled $100k) But to be honest, I don’t know where my money went… so when the Recession hit it took about 2 months before I was selling off everything I own and living in my car….where I stayed for the next year with my dog.

Nobody help me stay safe or in my integrity. I had no friends in Seattle to turn to. Mom told me to put my things in garbage bags and throw it all away…take the dog to the pound… and work with my counselor (she was angry about me getting help because she perceived it as being me trying to vilify her and this was her chance to punish me for getting help) and find a shelter to check in to because I wasn’t welcomed at her home.

Let me say that again: My mom knew I was losing everything, told me to throw my life away, dump my kid at the pound and told me to check into a shelter, I wasn’t welcomed at her home.

MY MOM.

Shes sees me as trash. She threw me away. Doesn’t she look amazing when Im failing?

Work in Seattle was impossible to find. I literally had 700 resumes out. Understand, I have held a job consistently since I was 15 years old and somehow mom thought this moment was me being a lazy piece of shit and just trying to manipulate her for money when I asked for help.

Sure. Ok.

I spent the next year in my car with no money coming in other than whatever odd jobs I could grab on craigslist to make my car payment. I drove back to North Carolina to seek help from my friends and my brother. My friends back home were not in a position to help me in any long lasting way but bless them all for what they did…

but Jim 2, who lives in Raliegh, was. He just declined. He made me a sandwich…told me there was nothing he could do for me (he has three houses)…and I spent the night in my car outside my brother’s house.

I had an ex acquaintance from Seattle who lived in Raleigh. He was part of the abuser sex trafficking gang. He let me sleep on the floor but would beat the shit out of me if I tried to sleep on the couch. I was so demoralized and out of my head, I needed literally anyone to be there for me….so, I stayed there, on the floor, for a month.

My brother was 15 minutes away, could have kept me safe but my brother chose to do nothing to help me.  

Whats wrong with you Melissa. My family. Definitely gonna say my family.  

When it was clear that North Carolina wasn’t going to be any better for work than Seattle I decided to drive back to the west coast. I had to drive through Texas and I didn’t stop at Moms house. I didn’t even try. Why would I?  I was so hopeless and out of my head with depression and PTSD. I was screaming into the great black nothing. I was cutting myself all over to get the evil out. I would punch my own face black and blue from self loathing… again, thinking it was all my fault and that I was defective. I mean… my own family didn’t want me. Nobody did. It was me. I was a horrible piece of shit and deserved to die. Nobody loved or wanted me. Nobody kept me safe. I was deeply lost in the void. I wanted to die. Goddamn. Let it end.

That year in the car was by far worse than the 8 years of being tortured by sex traffickers or the 13 years of living with my sex predator father or the 7 years of being stuck in bumfuck North Carolina with my moms abuser boyfriend stealing the show.

Without question having nobody and knowing that nobody cares if you are safe, in your integrity, have a door to lock, privacy of any kind, if you are fed or showered… knowing for a demonstrated fact that there is not a single person on earth who cares enough to validate your humanity is the absolute worst feeling I have ever known.  Being completely dehumanized, demoralized, erased. I begged for death.

Whats wrong with you Melissa?

Fun fact: during that time, instead of helping me or offering me a job at her business doing the exact job I did so well at Amazon (I asked for one and told her I would sleep in the attic at the office and she told me No), to mock me and show me what a failure I am and that I was just trying to manipulate her for money because Im a lazy loser

Mom went to her local Costco and applied for a job to show me how easy it was for her to get hired.

I mean, if youre going to be void of a soul, you should really go for it. Kudos, Mom.  

I drove through California on the way back home to Seattle and met my sister Patty for the first time. We look like two peas in a pod. We think exactly the same. She is undeniably my sister. It was the most incredible feeling.

For the first time in my entire life I actually felt and thought the same as someone else.

She casually declined to introduce me to her family. They kept looking at me incredulously because we look just the same… but she would shoo them away when they would come over to talk. I met her at her restaurant and then she took me to her palatial home. She has a huge family. She had tons of photo albums… and then she started talking about Dad…like she was in a trance and talking about a favorite lover… it was clear that Dad had sexualized her and maintained that relationship with her well into her adult life and that was the reason she had no contact with us and didn’t want a deeper relationship with me. One conversation was all I got with her. I slept in my car outside her home. My sister didn’t help me. Whats wrong with you Melissa???

In one shot from LA I drove back to Seattle. I figured out that the Queen Anne neighborhood had the lowest crime rate so I parked there. I was so sick to death of all the nights that year that I would wake up with someone trying to break in to the car. Thank god I had Milo with me. He saved me multiple times from intruders that year. My body was a wreck from car living and shit food. My mental health beyond destroyed. I was really just done. Run through. All the way run through.

I did a brief stint staying in Silverdale with my friend from NC that I managed to re connect with on my drive back… but the hour drive into Seattle from Silverdale was too much so I lumped it and just slept in my car in Queen Anne once I secured my job…..

I went in to Top Pot Doughnuts every day for a month and demanded a job until they gave me one. I was 8 weeks into that job, still sleeping in the car but I had forward momentum when I totaled the car. I had the very last car payment in the seat next to me I had worked so fucking hard to maintain my payments in good faith despite it all and come out of that situation with my car but nope…fuck me. I was on my way to the gym and I was giving myself a pep talk telling myself everything was going to be ok….and I ate it…40 miles an hour into a stopped truck on the West Seattle Bridge. Entirely my fault. Milo went to the pound. All my earthly belongings went to the impound yard. I went to the ER…. And I called every single person I knew and who I thought could help me.

Just when you think you have nothing left, turns out you can go lower. Nobody returned my call.  

Me, the unwanted, loveable piece of shit. I could die and nobody cared. Whats wrong with you Melissa?

I got out of the hospital, I had made contact with my online friend Rishad and he let me stay for a couple days… BLESS HIM… In those two days I got on the bus. I took the bus that goes through Capitol Hill and up to Queen Anne where my job was. I wrote down every apartment for rent phone number I could see and I started making calls. In the first true lucky break I had in years, this apartment manager woman at a really sweet little apartment on the hill heard me out…heard my story… it was the 15th of the month. I had my car payment check and I cashed it and gave her the money… She gave me the keys and a wink and told me I could move in “on the first”, that’s what the money I gave her would pay for…. and that she definitely didn’t know anything about a dog so no pet fee was needed.

I went right upstairs, LOCKED MY OWN DOOR and laid on the floor with literally nothing left to my name and cried so fucking hard.  

I had whiplash from the accident. I fractured 4 molars on my steering wheel and over the years as my dentist promised they have slowly one by one fallen out of my face. I had broken both my feet and wracked my knees…. But I had a place that was my own and a job and that’s all that mattered.

I went right to the pound the next day and got Milo. I went to the impound lot and got what was left of my life. I missed a sum total of two days of work…. I was so thankful to have a job again I blocked out the pain from my broken body and I just kept going.

(Mind you the only thing Mom has ever been proud of me for in my lifetime is losing weight. That’s what got her attention…that’s what she was impressed by. I went on a diet.)

That next year, I lost 70 pounds at the gym. I perceived my training team as the family I never had and I was good at lifting weights. They weren’t honestly my friends or family but it was something consistent and I needed that stability and I needed them so fucking bad. It took 5 years to start to return to a somewhat functioning human... Lifting helped me get back into my body and stop checking out so much. My nutrition plan made me focus on myself every moment of every day…and nothing beats depression like clean food and working out. Structure and consistency.

My PTSD was off the rails though. I was worse than a soldier coming back from war…I never signed up for that shit and it started when I was a child. I was suffering. I wanted to die. Every moment of every day. I was miserable to be around. Nobody wanted to be my friend. So, trust me…just work and the gym with my illusion that people were there for me and me inappropriately and overly attached to them.

The irony is that I looked amazing and strong and I was, yes. The reality is that I wanted to die. I begged for death. I had two suicide attempts in those years….I surprised myself and cut my wrist with my house keys on the way to work one day and another time I walked into traffic but the car swerved.

Coming out of all that happened and processing all that trauma took more will power and resolve than anything I have ever done. It was so dark. I felt demon possessed. I was out of my head. I would find myself walking out of my place into public with no skirt on just my tights or other crazy shit like that. I was talking to myself, having heated arguments with nobody there all the fucking time. I was punching myself in the face. I was cutting and other such self harm.

It was really bad. I was hurting so fucking much.

And, I had another sociopath boyfriend taking full advantage of my disadvantage…keeping me fucked up because it kept me there for him. Thomas was in my life for 7 years. Absolute Scum. But he was the only person who would show up in person for me. I needed to be held. I was so out of my head and I still had no friends in my life…just people on the internet.… So again, this familiar situation: I just let him use me so I could have literally anyone there. The social and emotional isolation was killing me and I was convinced I was in love. He felt like home. He kept telling me we would be together if I waited. That he loved me. That I was the Key! I was the only time he was happy. The reality was he wouldn’t speak to me during the week. He would just show up on a Friday or Saturday night when he felt like it, from 1am to 3am…literally show up with his dick out to fuck me…very often wouldn’t speak to me when he was there…then he would leave and that was what I considered my relationship and love. It was about 2 years into our “relationship” that the truth slowly started to surface that he was in a long term relationship and he lived with her….

The details of how twisted he is and how he manipulated my daddy issues is disgusting. How he used neglect to keep me working so hard for him to be there and begging for his attention….really sick.

He felt like home which is the worst part. He was exactly like home.

It took me three years at the doughnut shop to get emotionally stabilized enough to make a plan for next steps. I was too emotionally fragile to go back to corporate work or be in an office environment. I knew I wanted to go to massage school and I really thought it could be an answer for me even though Mary Jane and mom had previously shamed and mocked me when I said I wanted to go. Mom didn’t think I could be anything better than a waitress. She told me to stop complaining that I hated my work and just go do it.

It was around this time that I had to move out of the apartment because they raised the rent by double on my sweet apartment and I found my way into squatting in my Art studio, where I have been for the past 7 years.

This studio has been so needed and healed me in so many ways. It is private enough to have a complete mental collapse and since it was a former isolation tank/jail… Nobody can get in here….bars over the windows and a steel door…so, I could sleep at night for the first time in years. The rent is crazy affordable which allowed me to go to school and later afford activities to try to learn social skills and be a real person in the world…. This place is my everything.

When I had my first art show… consisting of the photos that I took when I was living in my car. One of the ways I survived and changed my paradigm to get out of the car alive was that I would walk around and task myself with Looking through the eyes of Love. I would try to find one thing each day that I could see beauty in so I could continue to see good in the world…thus my collection of flower photos that I maintain to this day as my gratitude practice.

Mom picked up the phone and called me the night of my show.

(Mind you, she has never been there for me. Over the years since she kicked me out I think we have talked on the phone maybe 10 times. There have been years where she refused to give me her phone number…she made a game of it for years…I would email and ask for it she would say she was going to give it to me in her reply but never would. Then she finally did and a week later she changed it again. Psycho. Another time I can remember a time we talked on the phone and I ended by saying I love you and she was silent and struggled to say it back. Whats incredible is that she has always pretended to be someone who knows me and knows whats going on in my life and talks about it with such authority. This is a narcissistic abuser in action. What she was doing was scanning my social media and whatever scraps of information she could get and twisting it into whatever story she needed to support her storyline about me being a problem child and a fuck up and what a wonderful mother she is so she could continue to live in denial. She cant face the past and she has never done any work to own her part or apologize. So, now Ive cut her off. She does things now like call the place where I get my mail and had the people who run the PO box office tell me my mother called and she is worried about me and she asked them for whatever information they had on me -so I had to get a new PO Box place where the owners have English as a distant 2nd language-  or she will go through my friends list on social media and contact people to see if they will keep tabs on me for her and share her story about what a problem I am and how she is just a loving mother who I have scorned and of course people believe her. She said the magic word: Mother. Nobody would suspect what kind of Mother she actually is and they see me all angry, regressed emotionally like a child and so fucked up and struggling in the world so she must me right about me, yeah? Text book actions when you try to break away from a Narcissist)

So…I get into the studio and Im all set up for my show and she called me to say this: “So, youre having an art show huh? You think youre so great. Youre still alone though aren’t you? (the mean girl was jealous that I somehow retained a sense of self and did something neat to be proud and again, she wanted to punish me…the woman is demented.) You know, the longest relationship you’ve ever had is with that damn dog.” And then she laughed at me. Made some shit comment about my basement studio “not having air” and some other bullshit and we ended the call. My party guests were arriving. My self-confidence was missing in action for the rest of my night.   Nice, right? That’s my mom.

Shortly after I get in to the Studio Milo got sick. Really really sick. As I promised him from day one, I would never let him suffer for my own selfish reasons…. So, I rented a car, took him to the vet and had him put down. The love of my life and my great protector. This sweet soul that was my constant source of love and hope for 14 years. When I posted on my facebook thread about his passing, mom commented that she was devastated at her loss. Because, you know… Milos death, this dog that she wanted me to throw away, was about how it impacted HER.  …yeah….ok.

I want to mention out of the context of a clear timeline that somewhere in here I trained for and ran two Tough Mudders. They are 12 mile courses with 20 really fucking hard obstacles. They are designed to be run with a team. I ran them both solo because nobody wanted to join me. On the days that I went to the events, neither my Trainer or the man I was so in love with, Thomas, sent me as much as a good luck text to wish me well or acknowledge my accomplishment. My previously 215 pound ass had shrunk to 140 pounds and, at 40 years old ran a team event solo and made it through in TWO AND A HALF HOURS completing every single obstacle, no excuses…. And nobody who should have been excited and invested in my success said a word.

I was still invisible. I still did not matter. I was still not celebrated by the people who should have been there for me.

I want to point this out: Even I did not think I mattered or what I was doing was noteworthy. I was still so checked out and erased to myself that it didn’t click in my head that my life and all that I was doing and surviving was me doing the impossible.

My friend Luke (who I met online dating but I knew we were meant to be solid friends for life) made a point to come with me to the first Tough Mudder. He spent the entire day out there and he took photos of me… He is the reason that I can now reflect on what I did and actually SEE MYSELF. That gift is immeasurable. Luke evidenced me. Im here today as a whole person in part because of him.  Also of note, the transition time between the apartment and the studio: Luke let me stay with him. He kept me safe and he was my sounding board and my true friend. I have nothing but the deepest most heartfelt love and respect for him. His story is equally harrowing and he is a miracle in action. Thank you Luke. I love you. Youre in my inner circle for life.

Now that Milo was gone and I was feeling somewhat more stabilized as a human, I knew it was time to make my career plan and try to get into massage school. Here is the next great stroke of luck in my lifetime: I went to Discovery Point and I talked to the women that run the school I explained my situation and that I was completely broke. They let me go to school for free in those 9 months with the understanding that I would clean the school on the weekends, make what payments I could as I went along and work out a payment plan immediately after graduation and that they would hold my diploma until that was complete.  OH SWEET MERCY.

My days during those 9 months were 17 hours long. I would manage the café in the morning 5am to 1pm, go to the gym to lift and run from 2 to 4, then to school from 5 to 10pm…all the while walking to get to each place. I was getting something like 12 miles a day. I did it. I made my 9 months of cleaning the school and keeping my life on track ( no cheering section, nobody doing laundry, cooking, keeping bills paid or there to comfort me but me: Whats new?) , I passed my exam and I was on track to move my life forward.

I feel like there should have been a celebration when I graduated because that’s fucking astounding…. but, hey… nothing happened, nobody in my life said a word of congratulations about it. Surprise.

I live alone. I have no friends beyond those that exist on the computer, acquaintances from community, and a few co workers that I have hung out with from time to time and I always make a big deal about that on social media which gives the illusion that I have people, but I really dont. My only contact with others is at work. I go home to an empty room and there is no support or comfort. Its really impossible to describe to people who have people what it is like to live with this constant isolation and utter lack of emotional intimacy and how it eats you alive…but this has been my life.

People who don’t understand tell me to get a dog or volunteer or pay for therapy for companionship. That’s a cruel tone deaf response. People need people and it is reasonable to want to be loved, intimately, from the outside in. What I want is to simply matter, and be loved and valued, and have someone who is there without having to do something to receive that…..

Because I have yet to be understood when I talk about it, I have for the most part stopped talking about my isolation that is to this day very real for me.

Im so lonely I just want to die. Whats new.

In the next year, I was waiting tables still and somehow managed to pay off $10k for my license… on a year where I only made $24k. again, no celebration when I told my co workers about it…. I thought it was a big deal.

During that year I went to the doctor and discovered that I was literally malnourished. I was pushing it too hard with working out and keeping everything on track and my personal trainer wasn’t actually reading the food journal I sent him each night… so I got pneumonia as well….but just kept going.

I also got my Personal Training Cert and my Nutrition Counseling cert that year and started working as a Personal Trainer while I looked for a Massage job. Things were lightening up for me. The tremendous crushing weight of my entire life was lightening up.

But the reality of who my Trainer was and what a fraud he was came to the light. He was sleeping with some of his clients and I have a laundry list of unethical things he, and his business partner, were doing. When I held him accountable that was the last straw for him. He was sick to death of weathering my PTSD and how fucked up and sick I was and how fucked up I was over Thomas all the goddamn time… and additionally I was calling out all the ways he was unethical: I was bad for business. I was bad for him in the fitness community.

He kept gaslighting me to try to get me to leave but that was my community for 5 years and I didn’t know what to do…….So, Matt did whats guys do: Shes crazy… and shit talked me throughout the fitness community.  He kicked me out of his gym and I now have no gym to work out at and no trainers willing to work with me. Thanks Matt! Super appreciate you!

I maintained my own lifting program for another year but honestly, I was in it for the community and sense of belonging that I never had before in my life. Without that and with Matt shit talking me in the background so I had no support elsewhere my program started to slip…. Add to that, I had begun  working full time in massage and my shoulder got burnt out. I have a repetitive stress injury from my Amazon days that was made worse at Tough Mudder when I got my arm yanked nearly out of its socket in an obstacle… so, Lifting started to fade… and honestly, I was burnt out on the regiment of it all. I needed a break. I deserved a huge break.

I think it was right around 2014 when Mom had me come to Houston for Thanksgiving as though we are friends or she was a Mom. The highlights of that visit include her telling me the reason I wasn’t welcome in Houston during the Recession was because her husband Rumi forbade it.

(I forgot to mention that all through the years of her being with Rumi she has painted this picture of him being physically and emotionally abusive. That she was hiding money to escape him and what a horror he is. She had some secret email account that she sent me emails from at one point and told me that she was trying to hack his email to see who he was having affairs with or some other drama….. but you know if you ask Jim2 who his best friend is, its Rumi…apparently they text all the time…so, you know…she loves to lie and paint these horrific pictures of who people are to support whatever her manipulation is to get sympathy or whatever pay off)

Anyway, While I was in Houston visiting her she was acting like everything was normal and fine and that I had just made up whatever it was that I went through during the Recession. She reminded me that since I “left home” at 18 she has had to give me something like $20k in support and implied what a burden I am and how I always have my hand out. She has kept track of the financial support she gave me as a parent and wanted me to feel like shit for needing her. Cool….

Another example of how mentally deranged she is: While I was there we went out to lunch. Mind you, I have maybe $100 to my name at that time. I offered to pay for lunch at this fast food place and after we ordered she commanded me to go pick a table. So I got a booth with a chair. I sat on the booth side so I was facing the café and could see her when she came out of the restroom… I waved her over and she sat in the chair. Unbeknownst to me, the booth side made me taller than the chair side…. She got this twisted angry look and became livid that I thought I was better than her. Paying for lunch and sitting above her like that….. The next day Mom and Rumi started playing a really fun game where they forgot my name and kept calling me “Savannah” (my niece) for the remainder of the time I was there …. You know… because at 44, they saw me as a child. Nothing like a little game of erasing your daughter’s person hood and replacing it with infantilism to let your daughter know you really see her and respect her.

I really hope this is making clear why I have a strict no contact in place with her that I will never change.

Now its 2017 and I get hired at my dream job. The Spa that I am at is beautiful. My co workers are the best. I make really fine money. My mental health is slowly coming together. I got Thomas out of my life and have enough mental clarity now to really see him for who he is.  I had spent yet another holiday season alone and the isolation was killing me, as per usual…so I decided that the best thing for me to do to help pull me out of my PTSD and stop being so scared to be seen or heard would be to go to music school…. Learn how to make friends for the first time in my adult life and be with people who were not my co workers. Try to trust people again. Try to trust that I could be liked for who I am….though rejection has been a very prevalent theme in my life… Try to learn some social skills that I missed out on basically my entire life.

How to simply hang out and play….was brand fucking new to me. Music school was really really really hard… not to mention I have no musical ability and I get triggered by stress pretty quickly and freeze… but I knew it was the right thing to do to reparent the kid inside me who never learned to make friends or be in activities with others and who wanted to play drums…. So hell yeah. I did it.

Thank you to Katy,Tracy,Melissa,and Kiyan for coming out to see a couple of those shows and being there to support me. You have no idea how much that meant to me.

I thought if I could make friends there I would have people to go out with and maybe could have a chance to meet a man and have a relationship… but all the women there were married with children and had little interest in going out at night, and I still wasn’t fully integrated as a Self yet… so that was a bust.

Music school was really me making up for my 20s and 30s when I should have been out at shows and hanging with friends and making art and and dating but instead I was being mentally tortured by my entire life. I gave it a good shot, but Im a mixed media artist not a musician and that’s really that. I have to take it in stride: Bless my heart for trying. Thank you to all my bandmates for being so kind and supportive of me and for being stellar humans

I was in my first year of Music school when I met the most amazing man, Joe. He was magical. He honestly loved me for me and I loved him right back. It was fast and deep and I felt so completely seen and wanted by him and OH MY GOD I NEEDED THAT FOR SO LONG. He made incredible things happen and took me on dates that made me feel like a Queen…. But Joe was terminally ill and two months later took his own life. I was in shock again….but kept going as I do.

Also out of context of timeline: When I got into that sweet little apartment I would go down to Edge of the Circle which was just a couple blocks away and get Tarot readings from Raven and Kiyan. I didn’t know how to simply ask for friendship so I would buy Tarot readings to have someone to talk to. These two helped me so much in so many ways…through their compassion and through helping me develop my Self and my skills. Over and over again these two have shown up as real people who have treated me with integrity. People who genuinely care about me and support me in my developing personhood. Ive made it through because of them and so many others along the way.

The shitty thing about being knocked out of your self is that even though you have people around you who care, you often cant see it or feel it and like a dick minimize what people are doing for you because the all-consuming feeling that nobody is there is so much larger than the gentle loving efforts of those around you…. And what happens: you push away the people who are there for you because they have self-respect and youre unwittingly being a dick. I want to say Im really sorry about this because I know for sure Ive done this.

Also out of context of timeline: Somewhere in here I started working in Tarot and caught a lucky break and got hired at Percys to be their Reader. Huge shout out to Krista who made that so possible for me. That Tarot night did more for my sense of Self and well being than I can explain and I was a success there largely because Krista made it so beautiful and kept that night going for me.

I also want to say Thank you to Tracy, Katy, and of course Brian who were my friends and co workers at the RowHouse Café… through those early massage school years. Endless support and encouragement from these guys, even when I was too fucked up to really receive it or reflect it back. Im really lucky to have met you and have had you in my life.

It was right around the solar eclipse and the night before that hurricane hit and flooded Houston and moms house got flooded that I emailed her a long list of things she had done that hurt me and explained that I would be taking time away from her and Id let her know when we could speak again. The next morning after I sent that email I again felt puppet mastered…. But this time by the little kid inside me… I literally woke up, jumped out of bed and started to dance. I was filled with glee. I was amazed by myself. I don’t know where that came from except to say that the kid inside me was OVERJOYED to be free of her.

In the coming years I kept proving to myself that I wont let her back in and that Im safe now… and as I have been staying true to this practice of not letting her, or anyone like her, back in my life… I have become happier and more whole as a human being…. More capable of making good choices in friends and finances….

She made an attempt to contact me around the holidays this year. I saw her call but let it go to voice mail. The message she left was something to the tune of her wanting to know if I had forgiven her yet and gotten over it. …See, because its about me and what I need to do because its my damage that is the problem here…. Nothing had changed with her. It was still my fault. No apology. No self reflection. Had I forgiven her yet. For fucks sake: I will never forgive her.  

I have learned to celebrate myself, take my self on vacations and to my great delight I had friends who spent time with me and took care of me!!!!!! Incredible!!!!!, give myself the compassion and nurturing that I always wished I had and reasonably should have had from my family. I have been working on being able to see the love that is there for me from the people that I have in my life, though I still struggle with that.  I have been working so hard on Self Love, Self Respect, Healthy boundaries, creating safety and stability in my life in all way and I know that Im doing great work because my inner me, those little kids inside of me that needed a parent are really responding to the parenting Im giving them…. Check this out:

A month or so after I declined her call I was out at the café in my neighborhood, having a treat and a coffee and doing some writing. I was sitting at the table and this incredible feeling came over me as though a golden light was shining on me and I could see it glittering down on me. I started laughing and crying like when you cum really hard and youre filled with ecstasy and bliss. And then I had a vision of being in a hospital room that was in the forest… it was just two walls of the room and then the woods…I could see deer and birds. In the hospital bed there was a person in a full body cast. The cast had moss growing on it and tiny sprouts of pine trees. The Doctor walked in to the room to check on the patient. I was both the Doctor and the Patient. I told myself: Hey, its time to get you out of there. And I grabbed my circle saw and started to cut my cast from end to end and crack to open like a sarcophagus. I told myself Welcome Back! We are so glad you are here!!! Go slow, take your time getting up. No rush.

I was so elated. I walked home immediately. Upon arriving at my studio I had another vision of all the ages of myself, down to the youngest and up to the oldest and wisest all linking hands. I recognized these women as my Sisters/MySelf… all of us agreed that the next would watch out for the next and that nobody would ever hurt us again. SOUL RECLAMATION.

For the first time in my life I am here, in this body, in this present moment. The first time in my life I am ME. Im currently 6 months in to my actual LIFE. THIS IS ME. I AM HERE. OH MY GOD. I MADE IT.

Yes now, of course, the world is ending and my career in massage is tenuous at best and I might be fucked again…. But so not worried because honestly, Ive survived worse with less. So I will figure this out and keep myself alive, housed and fed.

Over the years my attempts to talk it out with Mom were pointless… she would erase my feelings and angrily tell me that it was hard on all of us. She would hold no space for me and just be my mom and have some compassion for her baby girl. Nope: It was hard on all of us so stop complaining… but see, I was a child and they were my parents and that was my family and I had no choice…. So really, at this point, Im done. Im better off on my own.

I don’t know what else to say other than those yearly years were tremendously bad for everyone in my family, yes. I can now at this time in my life see and understand why everyone did what they did…. That my parents were also victims of abuse from their parents and all that and yeah, I have compassion and Im really sorry they had to go through that….But it doesn’t make it ok or make mom someone I will let back in my life. I mean, I went through it and Ive dedicated my lifes work to helping others heal and I try to be so good to everyone around me so…. No excuses. And, I still have questions like: Fuck, why did dad never go to jail? Im guessing it was about the money…..and really, how did nobody in my family see that I needed help?

Anyway… Ive done epic amount of self work to be here today as a whole person and really change my reality to one where I have value and can share love. Im still working on it… My social anxiety is still the worst. I can barely form words into sentences when Im out in public and I dont have a job to do as my role to play....but you know, I keep trying and its easier and keeps getting easier… and I have amazing friends like Brad to have mini adventures with… and I have my Studio to do my art in and now that Im feeling so much more whole as a person I think I might actually see some work through to completion that I can be proud of… and I have a job that I love and Im getting training for some other skills to expand my skillset and I feel that things can only get better from here so

I feel so lucky to be alive and so fucking grateful to be me and I really like myself. It’s a miracle. All things are possible if you just remember: LOVE IS THE KEY and keep moving in that direction.

That’s my experience and now you know.

[bytheangell]

ELLE!!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF???? ALEC GIVES MAGNUS THE CHOICE. HIM OR MAGIC. WHAT IF MAGNuS CHOOSES MAGIC. ELLE!!! WRITE THIS SO I CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT IT (okay that will absolutELY make it worse but do it anyway). (tried to do this from my SH blog but gUESS WHO CANT REMEMBER THE DAMN EMAIL SHE USED. IT MEEEE)

two sides of lonely - part one.(Read on AO3)(prompt based off of the 3x18 sneak peek. Lots of hurt. Zero comfort. This is your warning!)

Break his heart to save his life .

Alec wanted to say yes right then and there, willing to agree to anything Asmodeus asked of him - even losing the love of his life. No, not losing - giving up , because there’s a choice to be made now. Alec can give up Magnus to give him his magic back, or he can keep Magnus selfishly to himself and watch him live out the rest of a life he may never truly be happy in.

It isn’t much of a choice, not the way Alec sees it; but he doesn’t believe it’s his to make. He knows now better than ever that no matter how much he might think he’s doing what’s best for Magnus, there is a very real chance he doesn’t know the half of what’s going on inside his boyfriend’s head, or inside his heart.

He isn’t going to make that same mistake again, which is why Alec stands across from Magnus now, taking Magnus’ hands in his own, repeating the offer extended by Asmodeus.

“Your magic, or… me. It’s your decision, Magnus.”

“Alexander, this is ridiculous,” Magnus tells him, trying to sound dismissive, except the way he perks up at the thought of getting his magic back tells Alec otherwise.

“Is it? You said it yourself - you never wanted this life. You can’t be happy in it. It’s my fault you lost your magic. Twice.” Alec forces himself to say the words even though he feels an ache in his heart to speak them out loud and admit he’s the reason Magnus is in this position in the first place. “I’ll do whatever I have to to fix it.”

“I know what I said, but I didn’t mean it like that, I–” Alec watches Magnus struggle to find the right words to backtrack on their conversation from the night before. He waits, hoping that Magnus will insist he turn the offer down without a second thought. He wants Magnus to be furious he went behind his back to Asmodeus, that he’d put himself at risk like that, that he’d even think about sacrificing their love to bring back his magic.

Instead, all Alec sees is Magnus actually considering his options, and his heart breaks for the second time in as many days.

It was one thing for Alec to imagine agreeing to the deal when it was his decision - when he could pretend there wasn’t a chance Magnus would agree, even if it was what needed to be done. It’s another to see Magnus consider it; to see the desperate wanting in his eyes.  

“-I can’t ask you to do this.” Magnus says, his voice quiet. Alec hears the implication behind the careful phrasing: I can’t, but I wish I could.

“You’re not. I’m- I’m offering. If this is what you want then I’ll do it.” Alec nearly chokes on the words. He hadn’t realized until just now how big the part of him is that expected Magnus to say they’ll find another way, that of course he’d rather live a mundane life with Alec than one without him, powers or not. “Just tell me what you need.”

Alec allows himself one last moment of hope, sending a silent prayer to the Angel. Please , he thinks, I need him. Let him need me, too.

Alec feels that hope fade with every passing second Magnus remains silent, gaze down, unable to meet his eyes. He feels it disappear entirely when Magnus opens his mouth and shuts it again, unable to bring himself to admit the truth.

“On second thought, you don’t have to. I think your silence speaks for itself.” There’s a bitter taste in his mouth that he knows seeps into those words, but Alec can’t help it. What goddamn fairy tail did he think he was living in, that love could solve all their problems? That he might have a happy ending after all?

He takes a step back and drops Magnus’ hands from his own.

“I love you.” Magnus says. Alec knows he means it, and yet that only makes it worse.

“I love you too,” Alec replies, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small silver box. The ring. There’s never going to be anyone else he’ll want to give it to, of that much he’s certain. Not bothering to open it he hands it to Magnus.  “And I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. But I meant what I said last night: all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Even if it can’t be with me.”

“Alec-” Magnus starts, opening the box and staring down at the ring with wide eyes.

“Take care, Magnus.”

Emotions cloud judgement, and as he feels himself shut down a little more with each step he takes Alec can suddenly see clearer than he has in months.

He just hopes the deal still stands when it wasn’t him who did the heartbreaking.

—

When Alec comes back Magnus is already awake. He doesn’t know how long he’s been lying in the dark like this, but it’s long enough that the sudden light is blinding. He almost wishes it was, because the look that Alec greets him with while trying to figure out if Magnus is drunk again or not is so full of pity that he can barely stand it.

He isn’t, but even if he was the words that Alec says next would be more than enough to sober him up fast.

Alec went to Asmodeus. He went to Asmodeus, for him, to get his magic back.

“Your magic, or… me. It’s your decision, Magnus.” Alec says it like he’s asking Magnus to choose red or white wine for dinner. This entire thing is trite, and contrived, and exactly the sort of petty game he would expect from his father.

“Alexander, this is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Alec questions, and Magnus feels a wave of guilt over the fact that he’s justified in questioning Magnus’ attempt to dismiss the idea. “You said it yourself - you never wanted this life. You can’t be happy in it. It’s my fault you lost your magic. Twice. I’ll do whatever I have to to fix it.”

Magnus knows Alec means it, and that’s what scares him. Any other scenario, any other person, and he’d have no problem turning the offer down to spare the other party. But Alec is strong. He’s the Head of the Institute. He has his family, his friends… he doesn’t need Magnus and the mess his life has become to distract him from the bright future he has ahead of him. Without his magic Magnus is more of a burden than an asset, and he doesn’t want to spend the rest of their lives dragging Alec down with him. Maybe this would be best for both of them.

“I know what I said, but I didn’t mean it like that, I–” Magnus falters. He knows what he said while he was drunk, and he knows that he meant it. He meant more of what he said last night than anything he’s said in days. In weeks. He wants his magic back more than anything.

… more than Alexander?

The fact that he continues to question, to consider, makes him sick to his stomach. But it doesn’t change the fact that his decision isn’t immediate. That he wants his magic back so badly he’s considering walking away from the person he loves to get it back.

“-I can’t ask you to do this.”

No. He can see the hurt already forming on Alec’s features over his hesitation. He can’t do this, not to Alec. Not to them.

Can he?

“You’re not. I’m- I’m offering. If this is what you want then I’ll do it. Just tell me what you need.”

Magnus knows what he should say. That Alec’s love - that just Alec - is all he needs. That he’s enough. It should be an automatic response, words of devotion and praise flooding past his lips without hesitation.

Instead he’s silent. He can’t keep lying, not to Alec, and not to himself. He knows exactly what he needs, even if he can’t bring himself to say it.

He needs to feel whole again.

He needs his magic back.

“On second thought, you don’t have to. I think your silence speaks for itself.” The harsh bite to Alec’s words is enough for Magnus to look up again, his hands falling to his side when Alec drops them from the comfort of his grip. Magnus feels the loss immediately, the cold distance between them now. He wants to reach back out for Alec’s hands, to feel the warmth one more time, but he knows he’s lost that right.

“I love you.” Magnus says, and he means it. He’s never meant it more, he’s certain. But that doesn’t change anything now.

“I love you too, and I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. But I meant what I said last night: all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Even if it can’t be with me.”

Magnus isn’t sure when the box ended up in his hand, but he opens it instinctively, taking a moment to process the ring inside. It isn’t just any ring - it’s the Lightwood family ring. And the fact that Alec had it in this box, in his pocket, can only mean one thing…

“Alec-”

“Take care, Magnus.” Alec cuts him off and a part of him is thankful, because Magnus doesn’t know what he plans on saying next. It’s all too little, too late. He made his choice, and so has Alec.

Alec, who has the strength to walk away - not from him, but for him.

It isn’t until Alec’s gone that Magnus takes the ring out of the box and, slowly, slides it onto his finger. For a moment he closes his eyes and imagines everything that could have been, if only he had half of Alexander’s strength and resolve.

When he opens his eyes again he takes the ring back off and places it on Alec’s dresser with the hope that one day Alec will give it the home it deserves.(part two)

[albertdoesnteatglass]

its basically mcu ship shitposts

ok so i went through a ton of otp prompts and this was the result, credit goes to the people who originally posted the prompts! (mostly peter parker n harley keener lol)

Peter: Ok don't kill me, but- Harley, already picking kitchen knife up: ... - Harley: what is the one thing I told you not to do Peter: burn the house down Harley: and what did you do Peter: made you dinner Harley: Peter: Harley: Peter: and burnt the house down - Ned: *wraps arm around Harley’s shoulders* Hey Harley. Harley: What’s up? Ned: *points at Peter* You see Peter over there? Harley: Yeah?.. What about Peter? Ned: Peter thinks you’re really cute. Harley: I would hope so! We’re married. -

Harley: I have very high standards, I’d never date anyone clu-

Peter, walking in, tripping & falling face first on the floor: Ahh shit, oh hi guys! Harley: I want him. - MJ: This is my boyfriend Peter and his boyfriend Harley they're both bastards - Harley: hi Peter: GOSH who g a v e you PERMISSION to be THIS 👏 DAMN 👏 CUTE 👏 like STOP this is t o o much for me WHAT wERE YOU thinking -

Harley: You know, ketchup is technically a smoothie

Peter: Harley, I love you, but please don’t whisper these things in my ear at 2 AM - Harley: *Making popcorn* You probably won’t like this.

Peter: Why?

Harley: It’s probably to salty for you. *Pours excessive amount of salt in popcorn*

Peter: Well I like you, so it can’t be that bad.

-

Peter: Hey, Harley, can you do the thing?

Harley: What thing?

Peter: The thing that never fails to make me happy.

Harley: Oh.

Harley: [Smiles]

Peter: Thank you.

-

Peter: Seriously that’s like the most foolish and the most idiotic idea ever!

Harley: …So we’re doing it?

Peter: Absolutely, without a doubt.

-

Harley: *Affectionately smiles at Peter*

Ned: YoU dID THe THinG!!!! WhAT doEs tHIs MeaN????!! ArE YOu GUyS gETTIng MArRied?!?! OH mY GooDNeSs YeS! ThanK YoU UniverSE YOu haD oNE jOb aND yOU DiD It rIgHT!!!!!

-

*buying groceries*

Peter: hey do you have any bags?

Harley: the only bags I have are the ones under my eyes, and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence.

Peter:

Peter: a simple no would have sufficed

-

Peter: wanna go eat out together?

MJ: no thanks.

Peter: okay… wanna go scream into the void together?

MJ: *grabbing person a by the arm* noW THATS A DATE THAT ID LIKE LETS GO WHERE DO WE START-

-

Harley: This is so fucking frustrating! I fucking hate everybody in this goddamn house!

Peter, tearing up and voice cracking: E-Everyone?

Harley, sighing: Except you.

-

Peter, panicking: Harley! You’re bleeding!

Harley: Don’t worry Pete, it’s not my blood.

-

Steve: Just GO TO THE HOSPITAL -

Bucky: Oh, I'm sorry, is this OUR stab wound?? Stay out of it.

-

MJ: hey, i need you opinion about this couple, do you think they should date? because i think theyd be perfect!

Peter: let me see a picture of them first.

MJ: *walks up beside Peter and pulls out a mirror with the both of them reflected in it*

Peter: um, this is just a mirror, not a-OOOOH WAIT THAT WAS SO SMOOTH

-

Harley: * Wins board game*

Harley: I am your god!!

Peter: Get off the table!

-

Peter: *putting up halloween decorations* im so excited for halloween! are you Harley?

Harley: *already pulling out a christmas tree along with a box of holiday clothing* get into the fucking holiday spirit already, you stale cookie.

-

Strange: Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?

Tony: Yes, actually, multiple times.

Strange: …

Tony: I mean, have you seen my face?

-

Peter: But… You promised not to tell!!

MJ: And Hitler promised to not invade Czechoslovakia. Welcome to reality, Peter.

-

Harley: *staring deadpan into the camera with a microphone in hand* And here, you can see the endangered Peter in his natural habitat. Peter: *falls down the stairs, spilling their cereal everywhere* Harley: Natural selection is coming for this specimen.

-

Peter: I need your help.

MJ: No.

Peter: I’ll pay you.

MJ: I’m listening.

Peter: But only in chocolate chip cookies…

MJ: Done.

-

MJ: *hold up a picture of Peter* do you see this? Do you know how much i love the most beautiful person on earth? Do you know how beautiful and complex he is and the countless mysteries he holds?

Peter: *voice cracks and waves awkwardly* hi

MJ: CANT YOU SEE HIS BEAUTY???

-

Harley: In my trunk, I have a bottle of bourbon, some illegal fireworks, and a shovel. Are you in?

Peter: This sounds like a horrible idea, but yes.

-

Peter: can we get food pleaaaaaaaaase?

Harley: no.

Peter: you have given me no choice. *gives the puppy dog eyes* plEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?????

Harley: *handing over the money* god fuckin dammit

-

[kondo-hijikata]

Pairing: Pre-Relationship to Relationship Kondo/Hijikata Rating: T Summary: Hijikata had no particular interest in meeting the new Tennen Rishin Ryu heir…until he saw the size of his shoes. [AO3]

<< Chapter 2

.*Before the Storm*. Chapter 3

The universe was a finicky thing. It was unfair, played favorites. To some, it gave with reckless abandon. From others, it took and took in the same stride.

For once, it favored Hijikata Toshizo.

Ducking beneath the flowering bough of the Sato residence main gate revealed beyond advantageous conditions: Nobu was preoccupied somewhere in the house with her two young children, Hikogoro hadn’t yet returned from meeting Tamejiro, there were no nosy neighbors or merchants haunting the front garden… In short, a golden opportunity had fallen right into Hijikata’s lap, and he snatched the reins with an ecstasy that left him light-headed and almost delirious.

Everyone was out of his way. And for a change, he would have his.

It was a beeline straight to the back of the property with Kondo in tow, and when Hijikata just about punted the shoes from his feet and bounded up the dark stairs, his soon-to-be opponent spoke up in inquiry.

“Um, do you think we should wait for—?”

“No,” Hijikata stressed without so much a glance over his shoulder, and on that, he disappeared into the dojo.

Several moments passed before a breathy laugh rolled off Kondo’s tongue, his head canting and shoulders nudging up into a shrug. “All right, then,” he said aloud to no one, making quick work to free himself of hat and shoes, smooth out any displaced locks of hair, and follow Hijikata’s lead before he might be scolded for taking too long.

As shoji were thrown open for airflow and they set to readying themselves, the training hall was devoid of conversation—not because there weren’t matters of common interest to mull over or twenty questions to be asked. Simply, at present, there was but one thing on Hijikata’s mind. And that thing, that prospect, was all-consuming.

Anticipation electrified him, had every last nerve in his body lit up by the feverish exhilaration of being taken seriously, of at last having the opportunity to substantiate his merit. This would be the test of all tests and the ultimate proving ground, facing off with someone not only of Kondo’s talent but status. Hijikata’s fingers nearly trembled while readjusting the red ties woven about his personal training attire, and he began fastening the breastplate to his torso.

Kondo was perched across the way in formal seiza, making his own refinements prior to quickly outfitting himself. Seizing a pair of loose straps that hung about his waist, he pulled hard and started binding, then spoke up without diverting attention from his task. “You never did say what school you’re with, by the way.”

Hijikata sprung to his feet. “All of them.”

Chin snapping up, Kondo’s eyes were instantly on him and following as he approached the shinai rack. “Ah, I mean…” He rose to stand as well, and gave himself a final shake to let the armor settle comfortably about his frame. “What style do you practice?”

Two training swords were pulled free and Hijikata pivoted on his heels, tossing one over to Kondo while returning to the place he’d left his facemask. And just before his features became obscured by a ribbed cage, he offered a smug twitch of the lips and huffed out his nose. “It’s called Hijikata Toshizo style.”

Kondo’s lashes parted a little wider and though he said nothing in response to that statement, his mouth pulled outward into an enticed broad smile.

The playfulness was gone in an instant from Hijikata as he strapped himself in. “Don’t you dare go easy on me.”

~

It all started off so well. Confidence was soaring, the ship of peasant-turned-samurai dreams sailed, life was on the upswing and anything was possible.

Then the shinai was sent flying from Hijikata’s grip.

Kondo was saying something, but the words fell on ears deafened by distraction.

What…was that just now? Hijikata blinked, maintaining position and studying his empty hands before his eyes shifted to the fallen practice sword. After a second more of thought, he retrieved it, reassumed position, and squared his jaw with determination. “Again.”

He stepped into Kondo’s lunge with a different technique, a new approach at blocking…only to be disarmed in the same manner.

There was no pensive consideration this time. Hijikata swooped over his shinai and took it up without breaking momentum. His feet slid back into stance like second nature. “Again.”

Again and again and again, until he figured out a countermeasure for this move.

Again.

~

Pulling off headgear on a day like today felt like breaking back through the surface of water after staying submerged for too long. Hijikata stood panting hard with his eyes shut tight and nose angled toward the ceiling, his heart pounding and lungs working double time. The mask which dangled from his fingertips dropped unceremoniously to the floor, and his hands began blindly ridding the other articles that bogged him down.

“It is hot!” Kondo rasped with desperation, seeking his own freedom from the same burdens, and then used the sleeve of his hakamashita to wipe the sweat from his face.

Indeed it was hotter than hell, among other things just as uncomfortable. While his pulse slowly calmed and his muscles relaxed, the disappointment that welled in the pit of Hijikata’s stomach started creeping up his throat to sting his tongue with the bitter taste of chagrin. All he offered to Kondo’s statement about the heat was an affirmative breathy hum, and when his lashes finally parted, he found himself being regarded with another grin. It was almost unsettling, given the circumstances. “…What?”

Shaking his head, Kondo let the fabric fall back in place at his side. “I’m just impressed.”

“What?” Hijikata’s brows drew inward and his cheeks flushed with anger. “Don’t goddamn patronize me!”

“I’m not.” Hands flew up before Kondo’s chest in surrender and he swallowed hard, his shoulders still rising and falling from catching his breath. “Don’t get me wrong. You lack discipline and consistency, and your form needs work. But—” A few moments of panting. “—you make up for all that in creativity. It certainly kept me on my toes.”

While his expression hadn’t lessened in severity, Hijikata studied the young master and took heed to his words; it was an appraisal that was admittedly fair and one he couldn’t argue, even if constructive criticism hadn’t been something he’d particularly sought. After all, it was plain as day now that he was no match for Kondo as he was. That Kondo could find anything remotely positive to comment on about his performance was already much too kind in his opinion.

Pulling his mouth taut, Hijikata remained silent. It was mortifying to admit even to himself that he’d envisioned victory. Then again, he could mop the floor with the local dojos frequented during his peddling rounds, so perhaps this loss was a necessary and humbling kick in the ass. It wasn’t even that Hijikata hadn’t held his own well enough during the match, because he had. However, in a world where someone with ambitions as wild as his needed to be better than the best, staying on the defense simply wouldn’t cut it.

And by the gods, having a weapon knocked free over and over—something that should never happen even once—was humiliating beyond belief.

No, he needed to be more than just decent, more than passable or creative. He needed to be a legitimate contender to people with advanced skill like Kondo if he wanted to get anywhere in the life he envisioned, and that was the cold hard truth. Thus, the contest was Kondo’s triumph and Hijikata’s failure no matter how minced the words, but at least he could learn something from it. He licked his lips, eager to move on from being the recipient of half-hearted compliments. “So, what was that move?”

“What move?”

“The one you kept disarming me with.”

Another smile inched out into Kondo’s cheeks. “Ah, that…” He gave a firm nod. “The Tennen Rishin Ryu is structured purely for warfare. It’s an aggressive style that seeks to neutralize threats as fast as possible, so disarmament is a big factor.”

Hijikata narrowed his eyes. “Right…yeah, I get that. But I wanna know how you did it.” Several seconds passed without any verbal response as the young master seemed to study him—and just as he’d been about to reassert his demand, Kondo huffed.

“Um, Hijikata-san,” he began slowly, letting his focus wander to nowhere important. “From what I gather, you have knowledge of all different kinds of styles from your travels.” Kondo returned his attention then, his gaze direct and piercing. “But the Tennen Rishin Ryu isn’t one of them, despite this dojo being literally in your backyard. Why is that?”

It was a splendidly predictable inquiry but somehow still managed to catch Hijikata off guard. He scoffed and rubbed at his neck with irritation, averted his sight to the garden and replied with a breathy, “Answering a question with a question, huh…”

“Forgive me, but you are asking for the semantics of my technique, are you not?”

Hijikata’s fingers paused and his eyes shifted to his companion. …Kondo had a point. Or it was more like he was damn correct and this situation was becoming more than a little embarrassing with every passing second. It was time to leave before more damage could be done, time to salvage whatever was left of his pride—if any of it was. “You’re right,” Hijikata relented with a nearly disdainful drop of his chin. “Sorry, it was overstepping.”

“Mm?” Kondo tilted his head and started pulling at his hakamashita to help himself cool off. “I don’t believe I said that…”

“Aa, I know.” A forced smile twitched at Hijikata’s lips as he collected his armor and stepped up to take Kondo’s as well. “Well, thanks for the match but as you found out, I really am just a medicine peddler with rough hands.” Before that could be interpreted as a cry for sympathy, he was quick to shrug and press on with the kind of talk that would pacify anyone of a higher class. “Which is fine. We all have our place. Mine happens to be healing the ailments of this country.”

As he was learning, however, Kondo wasn’t just anyone.

“Anyway, I’ll take that.” Hijikata leaned forward to reach for the breastplate at the young master’s side…only to have his shoulders caught in the grip of hands much larger than his own. Hijikata froze, his eyes snapping up to golden ones boring into him, and relented when he was gently coaxed back into standing upright.

“Look…” Kondo’s palms slipped from where they’d steadied him, but Hijikata could feel the gentle yet insistent weight of his touch remaining even after it vanished. What even was this magnetism? Part of him wanted to leave so he could process and swallow the crushing loss that shattered his confidence, but another side remained inundated with curiosity—so much that it won out and had his feet staying cemented in place. He warily listened.

“I assess all kinds of men day in and day out through training and sparring. That being said…” Kondo swiped up the training gear Hijikata had been after, his attention falling to it before returning with a pointed earnestness. “Hijikata-san, I promise you. Your opinion of yourself is much too low. Actually, I’d go so far to say it’s completely wrong.”

Several moments of tense silence persisted, each studying the other like they were back at that proverbial game of Go from when they’d met on the street earlier, before Hijikata’s features relaxed and he choked out a strained breathy laugh. “Uh, thanks,” he said dismissively and reached for the armor again.

Strange as it was, Kondo hadn’t taken the bait to lighten the mood and seemed to have no interest in giving up the raiment that Hijikata had been after, his demeanor holding as fervid as it was genuine. “I’ll show you the move if you come to practice sometime.”

Hijikata’s brows creased and he felt a rush of…something hit his head—annoyance or offense or another emotion he couldn’t rightly identify. Whatever the case, it wasn’t favorable and so he replied with a cool retort. “I’m not interested in becoming your student.”

“What do you want to be then?”

And damned as he might have been for it, the unintended suggestiveness in that question took Hijikata by surprise. His lips parted, but no sound came forth.

Kondo’s hands docked on his hips. “Rivals, friends? Enemies, a few fake samurai trying to forever be good enough?”

“Excuse me, fake?”

“Of course. You said it yourself, didn’t you? We all have our place.” Turning his head to the side, Kondo’s gaze was back on the garden. “Society won’t see us as anything more than farmers.”

“What are you even saying?! You’re literally a samurai!” Hijikata snapped. “You have the actual status. I don’t. I have nothing at all.”

“You think that means something…” Kondo trailed off, his voice going quiet. He huffed, closed his eyes, and cocked his head…shrugged and smiled. “This status you refer to amounts to nothing at all.” But when his lashes parted again, Hijikata could make out a fire burning in the man in front of him. “If the Shogun worked the land before he became the Shogun, the world would still see him as what he was first, no matter his accomplishments.”

Ah, there it was. A bitter scoff followed. “So you lied to those kids, after all. Can’t say it surprises me.”

“Actually, no, I didn’t. I’m a farmer, Hijikata-san. That’s how I was born. That’s how I’ll die. I have to work three times as hard to get even a sliver of what some people are lucky enough to be given at birth.” Squaring his jaw, the light dulled in Kondo’s eyes. “But I’m not discouraged by that, because you see, I’m lucky too. My fate is in my own hands. I can carve my own path.” And with that, his grasp on the plate tightened. “To society, I’ll always be someone trying to be something that I’m not and nothing more. So I’ll be a farmer with the greatest samurai spirit, more samurai than any samurai who thinks he’s entitled to that honor because of where he happened to be born.”

Hijikata’s attention was locked on Kondo and he didn’t dare even blink, his heart pounding so hard that he heard it echoing in his ears. What he was saying, it was infuriating and ridiculous and it spoke directly to his soul with the words he’d always wanted to hear. “More samurai than…any samurai,” he echoed as his companion pivoted on his feet and made for the armor stand. “You’re—”

“It’s the same for you,” Kondo said, reaching for a nearby rag and beginning to wipe down each article to prepare it for stowing. “Whether you see it or not.”

“You barely know me!” Hijikata shot back. “How the hell can you make such a bold ass statement like it’s some kind of fact?!”

Kondo’s hands came to a stop and he lifted his chin. “It’s simple.” Slowly, he turned his face to look him dead in the eye. “I see myself in you.”

There weren’t many times in his life when Hijikata had been rendered utterly speechless, but it seemed that the young master had a particular talent at striking his sharp tongue frozen. His mouth opened suddenly. Then, it closed.

And just when it parted again, in his true horrible timing fashion, Hikogoro’s voice pierced the air. “Katsuta-san?!”

The moment was lost, the seriousness slipping from Kondo’s expression as he smiled warmly at the harried man running up the dojo stairs. And while Hikogoro made his greetings and unleashed a chastising tirade for letting Kondo put his own training attire away, Hijikata’s silence persisted.

More samurai than any samurai.

A farmer with the greatest samurai spirit.

What do you want to be then?

“Oi, Toshizo! Are you even listening to me?!”

I see myself in you.

At last, he released the breath he hadn’t even realized he held.