#like. i see the videos of my brother at the physical therapist with his son youre not gonna tell me thats you 🙄 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotchgan · 4 years ago

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You should hate yourself

Summery: Aaron gets kidnapped by his therapist.

Taglist: @ellyhotchner @unionjackpillow @eleanorbloom

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, mentions of anxiety attack and addiction, implied/reference child abuse, hospitals, mentions of scuicide

Aaron had been feeling so much better. He has been talking about his trauma to his therapist. At first he was hesitant to tell all of his deepest secrets but he tried. It was hard for him to be so vulnerable around someone but it was slowly lifting so much weight off his shoulder. She has been helping him so much ...

And now she is pointing a gun towards him.

"Come on... spill all of your dirty secrets"

Aaron stares at her in disbelief. How could he have not seen this coming? She knows more things about him than anyone alive. This was all his fault.

"Oh Aaron ... I didn't think I would need to punish you this early. But I guess I should since you're not listening to me"

Aaron can see two men with ski masks. One of grabs his neck from behind the chair he is sitting on. The other guy picks up a bat. Aaron winces as he feels the bat hit him in the stomach. Tears threatening to spill and his stomach getting repeatedly hit. Each hit hurled more and he used more force.

"Alright that's enough. I think he got the message"

The two men let go off him. Aaron slumps down on his chair. He finally breathes normally but he can feel his tears rolling down his cheek. Aaron could see the camera recording him. He just wonders who is watching him.

Morgan can't bare to see his boss like this. They both hadn't always seen eye to eye but they both were there for each other. Hotch had helped him with Buford and any other case that got to him. And now the man he respected the most is getting beat up.

Emily looks down at the ground but she can still hear his chocked sobs from the screen. Her eyes shimmer with tears threatening to spill. She looks at JJ. She wants JJ to hug her and say everything is going to be ok.

JJ looks at Emily. They both share a stolen glance. They both are thinking the same thing. Hotch was the first to now about their relationship. He supported them immediately. He also made sure to give JJ all the time she needs with her divorce with Will. Hotch doesn't deserves this.

Reid looks at the ground. He was like a father to him. The only father who hasn't left him. He knew him personally. Hotch knew how to help him through his anxiety attacks. Hotch had even helped him through his addiction. He even considered him as a son. Spencer can feel tears spilling from his eyes.

Rossi can feel his eye's fill with fury. Hotch is like a son to him and seeing someone hurt him like that angers him. They need to catch whoever is doing this to him and fast.

"Garcia", Rossi says still processing what he had just saw.

"Y-yes sir?" Penelope says holding back her tears.

"Have you tried tracking the video's location?" Rossi asks. He needs some good new right now.

"I- no", Garcia says sadly.

"Damn it Garcia! Can't you even do your job? Hotch could die any minute now!" Rossi yells at Garcia. At this point she can't control her tears.

"Rossi! She's doing everything she can", Morgan says to Rossi.

He sighs and rubs his eyes.

"You're right, I'm sorry Penelope. Is there anything we now about this lady?" Rossi asks.

"W-well she obviously knows Hotch so she could work with the FBI", Garcia says as she wipes the tears from her face.

"Ok, starts there. Look for anyone in the FBI who has a connection to Hotch", Rossi says. He looks back at the screen. His eyes widens in fear when he realizes what they’re about to do.

Aaron watches as the two men tries to unravel a bunch of wires. He doesn’t know what they’re doing. Are they going to strangle him? No, that would be a quick death and he knows that isn’t what she’s trying to do. The two men start sticking wires on Aaron’s chest. Suddenly it clicks to him. They’re going to shock him.

“It looks like you realize what I’m going to do”

“I- god why are you doing this?” Aaron asks.

“Well where’s the fun in this if I tell you. You see I’m not just going to physically torture you, I’m going to mentally torture. By exposing you and making you vulnerable to your team. I’m going to destroy you”

“I-“, before Aaron can say anything he feels a shock going through his heart. His heart starts racing and he can feel himself shaking. When it finally stops, he looks to see her holding a remote.

"Oh that's just level one, wait till you see level 5", she sneers.

Aaron looks at her with fear. He just hopes his team can make it in time.

The team look at the screen in horror. If she shocks him too long then he could die. They all stand there in silence before Rossi clears his throat.

"Have you found anything yet?" Rossi asks impatiently.

"No sir, a lot of these things are so secure I can't even hack into it", Garcia says as she looks at her computer.

"There's got to be something we have to do", Morgan says.

"Well who do you think would do something like this to Hotch?" Emily asks.

"That would be almost every unsub Hotch has caught", Reid says.

"Ok well we know she has some sort of connection to Hotch but maybe ...", JJ says before her eyes lighten up.

"Hey Rossi, remember that guy who's brother you put in jail?" JJ asks.

“The one where Reid said those stuff about evil twin and eviler twin?” Rossi asks recalling that memory.

“You think that she is related to an unsub Hotch caught?” Morgan asks.

“But Hotch has arrested so many people so it’s going to be hard narrowing it down,” Reid says.

“Ok Garcia, start by looking at any unsubs who have sisters with blonde hair and see where they’re at now”, Rossi says to Garcia.

“There is a lot of unsubs with sisters but I’ll try narrowing it down”, Garcia says as she begins typing on her laptop.

“What is she doing?” Reid asks making everyone look at the screen. They see her showing pictures but they can’t see what’s on there.

“Look at that, isn’t that your sweet, perfect family”

Aaron looks at the picture in shame. He can see his mother holding Sean when he was a baby and his father placing a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. It was all fake. They weren’t the perfect family and she knows that.

“Come on .. tell your team what was actually going on in your family”

The team looks at each other confused. Aaron never really talked about his family but soon they’re going to know why.

“He- my father abused me”, Aaron says quietly. She smiles wickedly.

“And what did he call you”

“He said I was weak and pathetic”, Aaron says recalling the time where his father would say that.

“Well he was right, wasn’t he?”

After Aaron didn’t say anything, she pushed a button sending shock waves throughout his body. Aaron yells in pain.

“Ok- yes yes he was right”, Aaron says with tears streaming down his face.

“That’s right and what did your team call you?”

Rossi looks at his team confused. What did they call him? He can see the guilty looks at all of there faces. Even Garcia looks at the ground in shame.

“What is she talking about?” Rossi asks. The rest of the team look at each other wondering who should say first.

“Well when Reid was kidnapped he had to call Hotch a narcissist to get his attention”, Morgan starts saying.

“And?” Rossi asks. He could tell there’s more.

“Well then he asked what was his worst quality and we all said something”, Morgan says in shame.

“Oh god, what did you say?” Rossi asks.

“I- well JJ called him a bully, I said he was a drill sergeant and Emily said he doesn’t trust women as much as men”, Morgan says finally.

“No no no no”, Rossi chants.

“I- well it was a long time ago, it’s not like he remembers or anything”, Emily says in their defense.

“These kind of things gets to Hotch and now she is going to use them against him”, Rossi says as he looks back at the screen.

“Th-they didn’t mean it”, Aaron says trying to defend his team. He suddenly feels his chest getting shocked again.

“Yes they did! And they are right. You are a narcissist, a bully, a drill sergeant and that’s why everyone hates you. You should hate yourself”

Maybe he should. Maybe Aaron Hotchner should hate himself. He couldn’t save his mom from abuse. He got Haley killed and put Jack’s life in danger. One of his team members got addicted and kidnapped. Another one of his team members got framed and had to face his abuser. Then another one had to fake their death. And another one had to watch their husband get shot and then had to go through a divorce. They all went through so much and it’s all because of him. Aaron Hotchner should hate himself and he does.

“I- I think I found something!” Garcia says making all eyes turn on her.

“What did you find?” Rossi asks.

“Remember Megan Kane?” Garcia asks making everyone nod.

“She has a sister, Molly Kane and she works for the FBI as a therapist”, Garcia says.

“Oh my god, Hotch was going through therapy”, Emily says in realization.

“That’s why she knew so many things about him”, JJ adds.

“Garcia, Can you search for any private properties owned by her?” Morgan asks.

“Yeah I’m doing that right now ... She has one private property! It’s an old barn and I’m sending you the address right now!” Garcia says as she typed furiously on her laptop.

The team quickly check their phones and begin putting on their vests. They had no time to waste. Hotch would die any second now. They all quickly broke into two team and went in their SUV’s. They all drive quickly to the address Garcia send them. If Hotch dies, they won’t know what to do.

“P-please I’m sorry, whatever I did .. I’m sorry”, Aaron says in tears.

“You think saying sorry would bring back my sister!”

“I- wh-who is your sister?” Aaron asks.

“You probably don’t even remember”

“I-“, suddenly it clicks to him. Aaron had always through she looks familiar but he couldn’t find where he had seen her. But he never saw her because she was Megan Kane’s sister.

“Y-you’re Megan’s sister?” Aaron asks.

“You finally figured it out”

“B-but I didnt kill her-“, Aaron says before he feels another shock in his body. This time it went longer than before and it hurled more. Aaron kept himself from yelling in pain. When it finally stops, he can feel his heart racing through his body.

“Yes you did! You killed her and now I’m going to kill you”

“She-she killed herself”, Aaron tries to explain.

“No she didn’t! Megan would never do that. That’s just a cover up to hide what really happened”

“Y-you’re in denial. I was there, I held her hand while she took those pills”, Aaron says with sympathy.

“Lair!”

Before Aaron can feel another shock, the door gets kicked down. His team is here. He’s safe now.

“FBI! Molly, step away from him and show me your hands”, Morgan says with a gun pointing at her. Aaron can see the other two men getting arrested by Reid and Emily.

“He killed my sister”, Molly says pulling out a knife to his throat.

“Molly, I know what’s it like to have your sister kill herself. It’s hard but this is not how you grief. I can help you, let me help you”, JJ says.

“No- I’m going to meet my sister and he’s coming with me”, Molly says but before she slits Aaron’s throat, she drops to the ground. Morgan shot her. Before Aaron could say anything, Rossi helps unties him and gets the wires off his chest.

“Son, son look at me”, Rossi says to Aaron. But he can’t. Aaron tries to stand up but he also drops to the ground. The last thing he heard is Morgan calling for the medics.

After a couple of hours, Aaron wakes up groaning in pain. He can see bright lights above him. He tries to sit up when he sees someone holding him up.

“Easy”, Rossi says helping him up.

“Dave?” Aaron asks.

“Hey son”, Rossi says.

“W-what happened?” Aaron asks wondering why he is in the hospital.

“After Morgan shot Molly, you fainted. The doctors said it was because of your heart being exhausted of being electrocuted”, Rossi says. Aaron hums in remembering what happened.

“J-Jack?” Aaron asks.

“Jack is with JJ. He should be coming to here soon”, Rossi says. Aaron hums again in response.

“Aaron look ... what she said, you’re not any of those things”, Rossi says. Aaron looks up at him.

“I-I’m afraid I’m going to turn up just like my father”, Aaron says.

“How about this, if I see you becoming anything like your father then I’ll personally drag you by the ear myself”, Rossi says promising him.

“P-promise?” Aaron asks.

“Promise”, Rossi says. He knows it’s not enough for the future but it’s enough for now.

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sparkles-and-trash · 4 years ago

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South Park Main 5, Headcanons Masterpost ~

Stan Marsh

Looks:

hair is actually nice and somewhat floppy naturally, but because he wears a hat most of the time, it’s usually flat and a little greasy kshdhsd

hair is that blue-ish black color

eyes is piercing ice blue

skin is light, kind porcelain like, but he also tans really fast?

soft sweaters are the only thing he’ll wear from early autumn to late spring

in summer he’ll literally only wear band shirts and flannels lol

Personality and General Trivia:

totally cares more for animals than most people let’s be real

sometimes he struggles with seeing things from others point of view and ha can come across as a little self centered

he is aware of it tho and tries to be better at it

his instagram is filled with Sparky haha

let’s Sparky sleep in his bed every single night even tho Sharon tells him not to

likes reading and writing, has a tiny obsession with dark themes and Lovecraftian stuff

he and Kenny volunteers at the local pet shelter and homeless shelter together

the pet shelter was Stan’s idea, and the homeless shelter was Kenny’s

wants to be edgy but is really just very soft

“Kyle said...”

believes everything Kyle tells him lol

enjoys video games a lot, prefers single player, story based ones tho

also still enjoys boardgames a lot, and when the big group isn’t up for hit, he, Tweek, Jimmy, Butters and Cartman groups together to nerd it out

has clinical depression, but is managing it with help of a therapist, his mom and friends

sometimes things gets pretty dark, but he is getting better at reaching out and asking for help in those times

Friendships:

like I mentioned above, he struggles a bit with seeing things for other’s point of view

but he is aware of his flaws and is trying to be better

can get a little bit caught up in his own drama, but listens when his friends tells him he needs to get over himself

will always stand up for his friends, especially if they’re not there to do it themselves

when he starts getting closer with Butters in early high school he gets really upset when he realizes how much he gets shit-talked

enjoys spending time with his friends individually, probably the most of the group, and takes initiative to do so a lot

which is very important to Kenny, since he tends to feel a little overlooked sometimes, and it makes their friendship really strong

same with Butters, except Butters doesn’t usually doesn’t mind mainly being in a group, but the first few times and Stan hangs out alone it’s obvious he really appreciates it

Family:

daddy issues

sorry I don’t make the rules lol

has a decent relationship with Sharon tho

she’s a good mom

and he wants to be a good son

Shelly is still kinda angry and scary

she keeps the “only I can beat you up bro” attitude and there is secretly mutual respect there

but we don’t talk about that!!!

Ships and relationships:

okay so my main ships for him are stutters (Butters), stenny (Kenny) and Style (Kyle)

my fav is stutters tho

I usually head canon him as bi or pan, but as with everyone in SP, I’m open to different interpretations if different Au’s and stories!

I just really like the idea of them learning to balance facing their issues AND celebrate the good things in life together

I def think he can be a bit insecure in relationships, struggling with feeling like he’s not enough, and would need a partner that naturally will be affirming and positive

that’s not to say he’s super needy or clingy, he’s just a bit insecure

but I really think he would truly be a good partner

he’s caring, kind and very appreciative

which is again why I really like him with Butters offh

Kenny McCormick

Looks:

sandy blonde hair that’s always messy and floppy/softly curled

teeth is kind of crooked due to lack of funds for braces

his front teeth are kinda big and has a significant gap

lots and lots of freckles man

all over his face, shoulders, back, hands and arms

tans fast

I actually really like him with brown eyes? like, soulful deep brown eyes

but also very, very clear blue ones, like almost unnatural (yes that’s a mysterious thing)

medium tall

wears his hoodies, usually with the hood up, no matter if it’s freezing or a heatwave

not conventionally attractive, but charming looking lol

likes to wear some eyeliner every now and then

and nail polish, but it’s like super clumsily put on and always chipped

Personality and General Trivia:

falls asleep in class a lot, but always seems to know the answer if the teacher asks him something

also has decent grades

I think he’s way smarter than he gives himself credit for, both socially and school wise

the therapist of the groups

actually, the therapist of the whole school

knows a lot of secrets due to this, but he always, ALWAYS keeps them

I see him as very friendly and approachable, but terribly hard to get close with

lots and lots of walls, man

very much an observer type?

quietly stays in the background if that’s an option

but if he is talked too, or feels like he has something to really contribute to in a conversation he’ll jump in and be comfortable talking and taking up space if he is with friends or people he knows

if not, he’ll just stay in the background with that.... look on his face that just makes you know he knows more than he says

works at Tweek’s parents coffee shop, is kinda close with Tweek because of this

zones out a lot

“…what?”

can fall asleep anywhere

Friendships:

is pretty close friends with Butters!

Butters used to have a little crush on him, but Kenny didn’t find out until years later lol

he also has a lot of patience with Cartman compared to the others

which is why Cartman actually cares when Kenny sets him in his place

likes learning new things, and does that with Kyle a lot!

both school and homework stuff, and things like cooking and other homey stuff, the two of them really bond with this

him and Stan volunteer together, and I already mentioned, and that time means a lot to Kenny

since he works with Tweek, the two of them are pretty close and good friends

is the one of the main boys who gets along the best with Craig and those guys

actually hangs out with them from time to time, so does Butters

it low-key drives the others crazy

Family:

I often like to think his parents would keep having these bursts where they try to get their shit together?

and it’s slow, and one step back and two backwards, but the fact that they’re trying at all means a lot to the kids after years of them... not

I can also see Kevin stepping up and taking more charge, Kevin get’s way too little love in this fandom!

Kenny usually never fights with his sibs

but when he does it’s with Karen, usually because he’s worried about her and it’s nor pretty

none of them can stay mad at each other for long tho

Kevin trying to be all “big brother” and kinda failing because he is chaotic, but he really wants to do right and Karen and Kenny knows that and appreciates it

Ships and relationships:

ohhh kay here we go, unpopular opinions ahead!

first, my main Kenny ships are Tokenny (Token x Kenny) and Stenny

rn Tokenny is my main, I love the potential dynamics, both with their personalties and backgrounds and families

I tend to head canon him as pan or bisexual, and demiromatic

I know the demiromantic part is... controversial, at best

but hear me out!

I see him being very comfortable with discussing sexual stuff, and being attracted to someone physically is never something he feels awkward or bad about

but when it comes to more emotional connections, he is way more awkward and fumbling

for those who doesn’t know, a demiromatic person (like myself! surprise!) won’t have crushes or romantic feelings for someone they don’t already have some form of emotional bond with! We can still feel sexual attraction tho, and some of us are comfortable with casual sexual encounters (like me!) and others are not, and both are very valid!

I usually have two ways of writing him

either him being comfortable having casual sexual interactions, but struggling with the romantic aspect and having to figure out how this works for him

him having some trauma related to debating sexually very early, thinking he was all ready and it was just sex, but getting his emotions caught up in it and being very heartbroken and confused, and therefore having issues with being intimate with people for a while

I mix them up depending on the story, but the first one is usually my go-to!

Kyle Broflovski

Looks:

he still covers his hair a lot, either with hats or hoods?

because I really see him being insecure about it

it’s a medium sort of red, and like, really curly and fluffy

not frizzy, big like... big

I usually give him green eyes, but I also could see him with a light brown or hazel!

some light freckles on his face that only really shows up if he’s spent time in the sun

pretty tall, kind of lanky

d i m p l e s

Personality and General Trivia:

big nerd energy

in every way, board games, video games, loves school, like genuinely, enjoys studying for tests, loves fantasy books, the longer and more complicated the better

co-captain of the debate team with Wendy

is good with arguments unless he gets too passionate on the subject, or if someone knows his weak points and uses them to tick him off

it’s usually Cartman

his mom wants him to go to an Ivy League but honestly he just wants to go to the same one in Denver as Stan, Butters and Cartman are planning on, and now that Kenny is also considering it he seriously think he’ll die if all his friends go to the same college without him

he struggles with FOMO, which is kind of an issue since he’s a busy guy, and some of his friends are not lol

if any one of these kids become a jock, it’s def Kyle with his basketball change my mind-

but not like, a letterman wearing fuckboy type of jock, but like, is obsessed with his sport and his team and works really hard to do well type of jock

Friendships:

very loyal

he and Stan walks Sparky together at least twice a week, just to be sure they’re always caught up with each other even when they’re busy with school, sports and dating

yeah they’re still super best friends

when they started high school he got closer to Wendy as she’s also on the debate team, in all of his AP classes and they share a lot of the same interests

they’re still good friends, but nothing more

the first time Cartman got really drunk was at a party freshman year, and at the time everyone was pretty fed up with him, and he ended up crying and Kyle found him, and Cartman thinks Kyle doesn’t remember, but he does

that was the first night Kyle really kinda understood why Cartman was the way he was, and even though he still thinks he’s a dick at times, he tries to remember everyone have a story, and to give people time

but he often gets too riled up to remember that lol

good pals with Jimmy, they share a lot of interests in fantasy stuff and have the same humor

he also start to go along well with Craig when they are around middle school age, but they’re both kinda too stubborn to admit they’re friends until a year later lol

Family:

even tho Sheila is pretty overbearing and can be too much, he is a mommy’s boy deep down

tense relationship with his dad

enjoys cooking, so that’s where he spends a lot of time with his mom!

tries his best to keep up with Ike and his life

sometimes he is a tad cringy when doing so, but Ike appreciates the gesture

Ike is pretty confident and strong in himself so he doesn’t care if Kyle is a bit awkward lol

the type of brothers who genuinely enjoys spending time together

Ships and relationships:

I like Style, Kyman, K2 and Kyvid!

I think he’d be a late bloomer when it comes to love and dating

struggles with opening up and letting himself feel these things

I often think of him as biromantic asexual, but I’m not always set on it!

he’d enjoy traditional dinner and a movie type of dates a lot, such a nerd

Eric Cartman

Looks:

keeps his hair cut pretty short and styled

has heterochromia iridium (different colored eyes), one blue and one brown

also he has a real nice smile when it’s a genuine one

which is rare but like

it happens

is kinda insecure about his weight and tries to compensate with always having the newest stuff and pretending not to care

sometimes tries to diet in secret

he isn’t huge anymore, but is still sort of broad, and isn’t skinny, but like..

kinda bulky, if he wears the right type of clothes it’s hard to see if he’s chubby or buff

but he is def chubby

Personality and General Trivia:

spends way to much time on reddit arguing with randoms

angry gamer, will call you a slur on voice chat

after almost getting dropped by his friends in middle school he tries a little harder to be a more decent person

still an asshole at heart, but like, an asshole who sometimes cares about some people

always tells people that’s he’s seen that meme before, even when he hasn’t

nothing is ever his fault and the only ones who can get him to admit he’s wrong are Kenny and, very, very rarely, Kyle

he wears supreme hoodies for a full year of High School and stands in line all night for the new ones and never shuts up about how he is the first in South Park to have the new stuff

Kenny finds it hilarious to buy the fake supreme stickers and put then on his own worn out hoodies

Kyle makes it his main goal in life to put things (everything from used gym socks to old food he finds in his locker) in Cartmans hoods and see how long it takes for him to notice

can’t handle alcohol, is constantly being teased for it

sloppy drunk lol

one of the main reasons the other bothers with Cartman trough middle school, when he is at his worst, is because of his big basement, the old Coon Lair, who got a big renovation around 7th grade and is an awesome, private hangout spot with a big TV and wifi and gaming systems

Friendships:

constantly says he hates his friends but would die if everyone left him

is secretly terribly jealous of Kyle, both his closeness to Stan, his basketball skills, his grades and his family

but they had that thing in Freshman year when Kyle found him drunk, alone and sad, and Cartman himself barely remembers it, and doesn’t think Kyle does because he never mentioned it

but he does

so much tension there, but also co-dependency

sees Kenny and Butters as his best friends, and knows deep down neither of them feel that way about him and it secretly kills him

is in the same board game group with Stan

is low-key terrified of Tweek lol

Family:

big mommy issues

but also very protective of her

I really enjoy the AU/headcanon that Liane marries Clyde’s dad

it’s not like, the only version I like, but I put it in as many au’s and works of mine as I can

I def think both boys would be mortified right away

but Clyde comes around first, because he really wants a brother, even if that brother have to be Cartman

Cartman would never admit it, but after some time he really starts to see Clyde as a brother and genuinely cares for him

Ships and relationships:

I mainly see Cartman as gay

sometimes I start of AU’s and stories with him not being out to himself or anyone else tho, I think that whole journey for him will be very interesting and help him grow as a person

I def think he’d have a few girlfriends before he comes out tho?

he can be very charming when he wants too yanno

my only Cartman ship is kyman atm, but I’m def open to explore more of

Leopold Butters Stotch

Looks:

I really really really like T A L L Butters???

like tall and gangly and adorable

I know it’s very popular to head canon that he bleaches his hair, but I like to think he has very light blond air naturally!

keeps it short on the sides and longer on top, with cute ass curls

soft sky blue eyes

also dyes his bangs light blue in high school!!

Pete the goth helps him because he is a pro of dying bangs

I like to think he’d be into pastel grunge, and keep his love for Hello Kitty and Sanrio etc, but still be a bit more... edgy?

Personality and General Trivia:

one of those people who’s friendly with almost everyone

but that doesn’t mean he’s friends with them, yanno?

gets drunk from one wine cooler

loves the theater and is in the drama club, but likes to be behind the stage, not on it

wants to be a director one day

watches Netflix on his phone every single time he has any time to spare, because he’s always binging a show

is usually pretty positive and kind, gives people the benefit of the doubt

but can be very stubborn, and if he has decided he dislikes or doesn’t trust someone, it’s almost impossible to change his mind

Friendships:

Butters put up with Cartman for so long because he genuinely thinks he can be fun when he’s not horrible, and he really tries his best to believe in people

he was also the first one to forgive him after the others cut him off

a very loyal and fun friend

takes a lot of initiative to do stuff, and loves hosting movie nights

thinks of these boys as his closest friends, but is also real close to Wendy, Bebe, Jimmy and Tweek

Family:

I just hate Stephen so much you guys

so tbh I usually like to just... have Linda leave him, or straight up kill him off oops

I know Linda is terrible too, I do, but I think she could possibly have a moment of realization if something happens like Butters potentially being taken away?

idk I’m not gonna go too deep into this, I know it’s such a heavy topic and I don’t wanna seem like I just ignore it, but I personally don’t usually include Stephen directly in my stories, and this is why, I hope y’all understand and respect that!

Ships and relationships:

my main Butters ship is Stutters (Stan x Butters)

I mentioned a lot why in Stan’s headcanons?

but idk, I just really think they’d balance each other well, and could have a very interesting and cute relationship!

I usually headcanons him as pan or gay, and genderqueer, but I’m open for other interpretations too!

he does date a little bit, but have never been in a real relationship and isn’t stressing about it!

he did have a pretty huge crush on (a very unaware) Kenny during middle school, but then they started hanging out a lot more and became really close and Butters didn’t really bring it much thought?

that’s until Cartman gets jealous and throws out a “what are you guys dating and fucking and being gay huh???” and Butters mind immediately goes to “omg ew no he’s like my brother!”

aaand that’s how Butters realized he was over his crush

they two of them stay close friends tho, Kenny makes Butters laugh and helps him be more sure of himself and Butters helps Kenny remember that they’re still just kids and should have fun and be good

289 notes · View notes

realmadridfamily · 4 years ago

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“The four boys are so different that I don't miss the girl”

EIGHT weeks after the birth of little Máximo Adriano, the youngest of her four children with footballer Sergio Ramos, Pilar Rubio is more radiant than ever in a spectacular photo shoot in Portugal for ¡HOLA! "I wanted to get back to activity" - says the presenter. Despite the energy and professionalism, which she always shows, Pilar quickly recognizes the lack of sleep in the last few weeks, in which she combines childcare with the attention she gives to the rest of the family - which she doesn't neglect even from a distance. There is no doubt that Pilar is a supermom, which he confirms when he tells us about his physical recovery and motherhood in the midst of a pandemic. Pilar, how are you feeling? Very good, really. I can't ask for more, although I don't sleep much and I'm more tired than usual. There are nights when I think: <Mother of God, four children! Why hadn't I thought about it before?> (laugh). There are days when things get a little overwhelming for me because lack of sleep makes you see things differently. But I'm so happy that it fills me up and gives me energy. It's the first time that you separate from Máximo Adriano? A day and a half passed. It's difficult for me to separate myself from my children, but I have constant contact with them thanks to video calls. How is the little one? He's super good, he never cries. The only thing is that, like his brothers, he eats regularly. It takes a long time. Now he asks for a couple of takes at night, but the first weeks he slept an hour or nothing. It sounds harsh, really. I learned to be more patient and accepting situation. No need to complain. It was a natural childbirth? Yes, all four childbirths were natural. Whose idea was it to call the little boy Máximo Adriano? Sergio liked the name Adriano more and I liked the name Máximo more. Since both names are cute, we decided to put them together. This is a deep story (laughs). How did the older brothers accept Maximo Adriano? Alejandro, who was the youngest until Máximo Adriano's birth, has become a little more rebellious. Try to get attention. But this is normal. Sergio Junior and Marco don't feel the competition because they are older. They all love him very much, they kiss him, but then all three play with each other. Is there an intention to baptize him? This is not in our plans for now. We also didn't baptize others. It will turn out later. With this fourth child, will you and Sergio Ramos close the limit? No more children! We've definitely closed the limit (laughs). I think we did our best for the birth rate (laughs). You wanted a girl? The four boys are so different that I don't miss the girl. I have a great time with my sons. Do you have nannies? My mother is now at home with children. After four pregnancies, you look spectacular. It's a matter of good habits and keeping them, whether you are pregnant or not. Actually, there aren't many secrets. You need to be aware of your body and listen to it. Discipline is also important, but I don't want it to sound negative. You have to enjoy the routine. When you see the effects, it's worth taking care of yourself. How much weight did you gain with pregnancy? Only ten kilos. In the remaining three, fourteen. During my last pregnancy, I gained less weight because I used more energy with three kids. Apart the baby (Maximo Adriano weighed three hundred and seventy kilos at birth) the placenta and the amniotic fluid … That's four or five kilos. Then the body evolves rapidly. Now, I’m at my usual weight, even if it's distributed in a different way (laughs). Therefore, you have to train and tone. Which part costs you more to return to its original state? I have breastfed my four children and haven't had breast surgery. The breast suffers a lot with each pregnancy and, above all, with breastfeeding. I've noticed that this has changed and no matter how much I train, I can't fix it. If you ever think about it, you can always resort to aesthetic medicine ... Not yet ... I want to wait a moment. At least see how my body is evolving. If I had to make up my mind tomorrow, I wouldn't change it, but I would go back to what it was like before I became a mom. There are "celebrities" who recover almost by magic right after giving birth, and some who talk about surgeons. Have you heard that about yourself? It makes me laugh! Whoever says this is completely ignorant and should ask the doctor if it's possible to operate the bowel after giving birth. It's contraindicated. If you've had a bad diet, a sedentary lifestyle, and gained twenty-five kilos, recovery costs you more. But if you stick to your routine, it doesn't have to cost that much. Do you see the pressure some women feel to regain their body? Whose pressure? No way! At work, they always told me to come back whenever I wanted. I set pressure or goals for myself. Moreover, if someone pressured me, I didn't care. First, I would be worried if everything is alright. When do you train sports? You get up early? At seven or eight in the morning. Is it possible with four children? Yes, if I don't train, I don't have enough energy to get through the day. Seriously. It seems the opposite, but it keeps me active for the day. Besides, exercises in the afternoon make me lazy. Taking care of myself, being aware of my body and what it needs helps me be more determined and have more energy. When I start training, everything is beneficial and I enjoy. I also tell you that we all have our days (laughs). But even on days when I don't rest well and sleep for two or three hours, I get up to train. Even if I'm a little lazy, I feel much better. How much time do you dedicate to sport? One hour a day, four or five days a week. Sixty percent is food and forty percent is exercise and rest. What exercises do you practice? I recently gave birth and I can't do anything that is very aggressive or hitting the ground, so I do pelvic floor and hypopressive exercises. Also breathing exercises and stretching. I go step by step. With who do you train? Usually with Noe Todea, my personal trainer. Now, that I'm recovering from the birth, also with Caroline Correia, the physical therapist with whom I wrote the book "Pregnancy, and now what?". When I recover, I want to take off my orange kickboxing belt. I've been doing this for fourteen years, though occasionally because of pregnancy. I also want to come back to "country" dance classes. When I was little I lived with my parents in Torrejón and there was a lot of "country" culture because of the American base. Your husband also works his body hard. Don't you train together? Each of us has our own specific training, tailored to our own needs. We can be in the gym at the same time, but not training together. Do you follow any diet? I try to eat balanced. Maybe I avoid foods that aren't good, like wheat. You shouldn't spend every day on industrial baking. But there are times to enjoy everything without feeling guilty. We train and work all day to pay ourselves these little tributes later. You are radiant in photos, but when it comes to showing off your body, you feel modest. Not at all. I never thought about it (laughs). This is something I have always done and it's part of my profession. Why should I be ashamed? Which part of your body do you like to emphasize during photo sessions? The shoulders and clavicles, which seem like a very feminine part to me and I like to mark them. Also the look, although it depends on the context and style. Do you have complexes? A lot! Like everyone else. My feet are very long. Also hands. I look at my feet and think, "How long!". But, what foot size do you wear? Thirty nine. It's a normal. But I look at them and see long feet. I try to work on the rest of my body to avoid complexes. How did you spend the summer? We spent a week in Mallorca. We spent the rest of the time, from March, at home. When I came to Mallorca it was like a trip to another world! So it was a gift and we liked it very much. Were you afraid to travel during the pandemic? No way. I have respect, but when you are responsible then no problem. I'm not afraid or panicking before going out on the street. Not at all. During lockdown, you and Sergio could enjoy children much more. It was very nice to be together for twenty-four hours all the time. Moreover, during those weeks in lockdown, we all slept together in the same room. How is Sergio as a father? He is very affectionate and loving. He has always loved children and plays a lot with them. Do you share responsibilities? We don't strictly separate responsibilities. Depends on the day. Have the children already gone back to school? Yes, but I was afraid they might wear the mask wrong. The only one who should wear it's my eldest son, six years old, but the others see and imitate their brother. Do any of your sons have football player skills? You have to ask their father because I have no idea about football. My children play with everything: ride motorbikes, play football, jump, ride on wheels, karate, judo, tennis ... They practice everything. They still research everything and see where their limitations are. In addition to Máximo Adriano, another new member has appeared in the Ramos family: the son of your brother-in-law René Ramos with singer Lorena Gómez. Is she asking for your advice? Lorena is a very prepared and super determined woman. Cares very well for the baby. She is delighted and super happy. Why are people surprised by your friendship with Vania Millán? Vania is a very special person and one of my close friends. Lorena is René's girlfriend. They have nothing to do with each other. People try to find controversy where there is none. Lorena is charming and has already made it clear that there is no confrontation. On the contrary, we get along very well. When they tell me or read something about it, I laugh. We know what our life is and luckily we are three super happy women. Vania and I get along very well and we love each other very much. Of course Lorena too. Are you planning any new projects? I continue working on "El Hormiguero" and designing. There were also several advertising proposals.

#Maximo Adriano Ramos #Alejandro Ramos #Marco Ramos #Sergio Ramos Rubio #Pilar Rubio #Sergio Ramos #Real Madrid #Interview

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loganarmstrong · 4 years ago

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B A S I C

NAME: Logan Mayumi Armstrong

NICKNAME(S): Lo

AGE: 29

DATE OF BIRTH: 5 February 1992

GENDER: cis male

PRONOUNS: he/him

F A M I L Y

MOTHER: lyra armstrong, nee karingal

FATHER: michael armstrong

SIBLING(S): sean (older brother), mason (older twin brother)

P H Y S I C A L

FACE CLAIM: darren criss

RACE/ETHNICITY: english, german, filipino, spanish, chinese

NATIONALITY: american

HEIGHT: 5 feet and six inches (5′6)

WEIGHT: 152 lbs

BUILD: slender, skinny, will often describe himself as scrawny

SCARS: inside of wrists, one above eyebrow

HAIR: black, curly

EYE COLOR: hazel

DOMINANT HAND: left

ACCENT: american (though rarely speaks)

PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: none, though needs glasses

MENTAL DISABILITIES: autisim, selective mutism

ALLERGIES: shellfish

DISORDERS: anxiety, depression

FASHION: prefers soft fabrics, often wears with overalls and doc martens

NERVOUS TICS: wringing hands together, fidgeting

L I F E S T Y L E

HOME ADDRESS: bridgeport, somerton, maine

RESIDES: medium sized loft apartment

BORN: conway, new hampshire

RAISED: conway, new hampshire

VEHICLE: range rover suv, black

PHONE: iphone xr

LAPTOP/COMPUTER: macbook pro, ipad pro

PET(S): service dog, northern inuit named ella

HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION: kennett high school

COLLEGE EDUCATION: the institute of fine arts, nyu

MAJOR: fine art

MINOR: illustration

CAREER: head baker

EMPLOYER: golden flour bakery

DIET: vegetarian

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual

MARITAL STATUS: single

CHILDREN: none

LANGUAGES: english, american sign language

PHOBIAS: loud noises

HOBBIES: art, reading, journalling, soccer, video games

SOCIAL MEDIA: inactive on most, privacy settings high due to ex partner

F A V O R I T E

LOCATION: the reading nook in his apartment

VIDEO GAME: skyrim, animal crossing, horizon zero dawn, spyro, stardew valley

ARTIST: vincent van gogh

MUSIC: varying

SONG: radio gaga - queen

TV SHOWS: the umbrella academy, the witcher, friends, stranger things, doctor who, sherlock

MOVIES: the addams family, my neighbor totoro, jurassic park, hook, forrest gump

FOOD: asian

COLOR: yellow

C H A R A C T E R

MBTI: infj-t: the advocate

ENNEGRAM: six

TEMPERAMENT: melancholic

WESTERN ZODIAC: aquarius

CHINESE ZODIAC: monkey

PRIMAL SIGN: dolphin

B I O G R A P H Y

tw suicide attempt, self harm, abusive relationship

Logan Mayumi Armstrong is precisely three minutes and forty two seconds younger than his twin brother, Mason, and six years younger than his oldest sibling. He was a quiet baby who hardly ever cried and mostly kept to himself, even as a toddler. None of the family knew anything was wrong with Logan until he was five years old. The Armstrong family thought that maybe Logan was just a quiet child, or even a late bloomer. But soon enough, every other child in his play group could speak and Mason was already stringing together full sentences. Logan hadn’t uttered a single word and was taken to see a doctor, put through weeks of testing until finally, a result came through.

Logan was diagnosed with selective mutism. He had the ability to speak - the tests showed he had the physical ability, but he was unable to do so. The Armstrong family learned sign language in an effort to help their youngest son communicate and it was something he appreciated - he could actually ask for things now! More tests followed and eventually Logan was given a diagnosis of autism. He didn’t fully understand it, not when he was young, but he understood enough to know it made him different. He struggled to make friends in his class and often spent recess alone. Mason on the other hand, was confident and never shy of any friends. He was always around people, always out playing with his friends and happy.

Logan tried hard not to let his differences bother him. People didn’t understand him, that was what he told himself. He focused on the things he enjoyed instead, such as art. For Logan, it was a way of expressing himself without the need for words and he spent hours practicing, filling sketchbook after sketchbook. Art became his outlet, how he showed his feelings although most of his work he kept to himself. He didn’t want to upset anyone with his difference. He’d heard his mom crying when he was first diagnosed as autistic and understood being different made her sad. He’d heard his father say they could get through it and at least they had his siblings who would be able to lead “normal lives”. Those were the words his father had used and it hurt, to know he wasn’t normal. He’d known he was different, sure, but the thought of not being able to live a normal life hurt.

Logan never told either of his parents he’d overheard their conversation. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it but he was sure it wouldn’t be good if they knew. He began to withdraw even more than before, stopping using sign language and only used simple, one-word answers to questions. Logan was battling with himself. As he got older, he realised he was even more different to his peers than he thought. Everyone started getting girlfriends when he entered high school and Logan wasn’t really interested in that. He thought girls were beautiful, sure, but Logan thought guys were too. He told Mason one day who seemed taken aback by the confession. The people in their school found out that Logan wasn’t quite straight and things only got worse. He was already picked on relentlessly for his lack of speech and being different but with new fuel to the fire, they made Logan’s life miserable.

The most difficult thing for him to accept was that no one wanted him around. He felt isolated, more alone than ever and didn’t know who to turn to for help. What could he do? He struggled with communication at the best of times. His parents were concerned at how withdrawn he’d become and heard from Mason how the bullying had gotten worse at school. They took him to a doctor and Logan was diagnosed with depression. He refused to take his medication and hid the pills from his parents - he didn’t need another thing wrong with him and he didn’t want the medication. He was careful though and everyone thought he was taking them when he was supposed to, believing it would just take time for him to get better.

Death wasn’t something that scared Logan. He wasn’t afraid to die and it was something he’d welcome. He wasn’t really sure what spurred his decision; he hadn’t been on his medication since his diagnosis and he was gradually getting worse. He couldn’t think of any other way to deal with the mess that was him. So when Logan’s mother found him on the bathroom floor, barely conscious and in a pool of his own blood, no one had expected it.

Logan was forced to stay in hospital for three months after that. Physically he was fine, merely left with deep scars marking the insides of his wrists. But mentally, Logan wasn’t okay. He was forced to take his medication, made to attend counselling and managed to tell his therapist everything. It took a long time, what with his lack of communication, but eventually, they understood the reasoning behind it and Logan began to recover.

He finished the school year in between his home and the hospital, Mason bringing the work home to him and helping him set up his online classes. Logan managed to graduate with a respectable grade. He wanted to pursue college, wanted to take his art further and make a career out of it. His parents were terrified to let Logan travel so far away. But they understood and after a lengthy conversation and the promise he would keep in contact with them, Logan was off.

He flew to New York City to study Fine Art and Illustration. It was a new sense of freedom for him. He still wasn’t okay, but he made sure he took his medication and stuck to a strict schedule for himself. It helped him focus and Logan was able to enjoy himself, even make a couple of friends and get a job as a barista in a local coffee shop. It was in this coffee shop that he met the person who changed his life.

Matthew was a kind and caring man at first glance. He didn’t let Logan’s lack of speech bother him, continuing to visit the younger man every day with a bouquet of flowers until Logan agreed to go on a date. Things started off well - Matthew was patient with Logan’s difficulty communicating and he made him laugh. Logan thought he could actually be happy and was excited when after a few short months, Matthew asked him to move in with him.

But that was when things began to take a turn for the worst. Matthew seemed to lose the patience he had before. He grew frustrated at Logan’s inability to speak and would fly into a fit of rage more often than not. The first time he hit him was one of the worst. Logan told himself he’d leave him, he wouldn’t let himself be pushed around like this. But Matthew had broken down, told Logan he needed help and said he wouldn’t be able to survive without him. He told Logan he’d been suicidal in the past and he would die if Logan left. So Logan stayed, forgave Matthew each and every time he was hit, when he was shoved or when he was beaten. Matthew told him this was what he deserved and Logan started to believe it. The bruises were always carefully hidden and Logan accepted that this was what his life would be. He was afraid no one would believe him if he told the truth so he kept quiet. Even after he finished his degree, he stayed with his boyfriend. Months turned into years and still, Logan was too afraid to leave.

The sixth time he was hospitalised from his injuries was the breaking point. But it also provided Logan with a way out. Matthew was arrested and Logan discharged himself from the hospital before he recovered fully and ran. He managed to scrape some money together and left the city, travelling as far as he could.

He settled in Somerton, Maine, a town he’d heard about often growing up. No one knew him there and he’d be able to start again, that was the main thing. He was still terrified Matthew would find him, especially as Logan fled without giving a statement against him. But he settled into life, got a job at the local bakery and kept his head down. It was just him and his faithful Ella now, his service dog. She kept him grounded and he knew he owed a lot t her presence. The residents of Somerton were nice and didn’t ask too many questions, for which he was grateful. Now all he had to do was hope he stayed safe.

#about: logan #biography #somertonintro

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phoenixmakeswords · 6 years ago

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Dented Ch. 3--AU

Finally thought of a name for the AU.

“Why haven’t you answered my texts? Do you not want me anymore?” I ask carefully. Just asking hurts. I forgot this much pain was possible.

“What? Kristoff, of course I want you. You’re my son. I just got your texts five seconds ago. Remember I was going on that camping trip? I told you about it at the restaurant. And that I wouldn’t have cell service.”

“I feel like a dumbass.”

“I still love you. Come in. You’re not okay. What’s going on?” She leads me from the entry hall to the spacious pale blue living room.

“Besides Regan being horrible? I went to a party on Friday. Clare’s girlfriend was having at her lake house. Anyway, it happened again.” My face twists into a grimace as I sink onto the matching blue sectional. It’s much softer and more plush than mine.

“What’d Regan do? Who was it?”

I show her the text reluctantly. It gives me a little time to dredge up the courage to tell her about the party.

“I was really drunk. Blackout drunk. Clare told me today he was blond and she thought his name might be James. I remember doing shots with Clare and then I woke up in a bed.”

“Did Clare know? Did anyone try to help you?”

“Yeah, she knew. Apparently, I could be heard over the music. Nobody did anything that I know of.”

“How’re you doing with this?”

“Oh, I'm peachy. I lashed out at the one guy I actually trust. I'm cutting class because I don’t want to look at Clare right now. Things are just fabulous. Oh, and I'm not sleeping and I'm really depressed. Can’t get better.”

“Have you thought about getting help? I believe you, Kristoff. I hope you know that. I'm sorry you’re suffering.”

“Yeah, telling a stranger about this sounds great.”

“Kristoff.”

“I might be leaving the bakery.”

“I thought you loved it.”

“I sorta slept with a guy’s brother and he’s being a jerk to me about it.”

“Were you a couple?” She sounds more excited than I expected by the possibility of me having a boyfriend.

“No. Just a hookup.”

“You know that’s not safe. Are you using protection at least?”

“If they don’t wanna use a condom, I don’t sleep with them. That’s like the only rule I have.”

“At least you’re being smart.”

“How was the camping trip?” I don’t want to discuss my sex life.

“It was good. There’s something really important I need to talk to you about.”

“You found a fae village in the woods.” I smirk teasingly at her. She’s my best friend. That might make me a mama’s boy. I don’t care.

“No. I met a guy. He’s really sweet. He asked me to dinner for this Friday.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s sweet. He’s genuine. He has kids of his own. He’s very respectful.”

“Does he work?”

“He’s a video game designer.”

“How’d you meet him? Was he a client?”

“His sister is my best friend. He came on the trip with us. The poor thing, he was the only man there. We started talking and we just…clicked.”

“You didn’t sleep with him, did you?” The idea fills me with horror.

“Kristoff!”

“Now you know how I felt.”

“You’re a brat. If you need to not be alone, you know you can stay here.”

“I know. Ransom’s been staying since it happened. He sleeps in the guest room. And he keeps making me breakfast.”

“Do you like him?”

“Does it matter? I'm so fu—screwed-up. I mean, yeah, we slept together before it happened.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. I know that’s hard for you to believe. But you do.”

“If it hadn’t happened, he was gonna ask me out.” I sigh softly.

“And? How do you feel about that?”

“You sound like a therapist. It would’ve been nice. I mean, he’s a great person. He’s hot. He’s smart.”

“Is he still interested?”

“I think so.”

“Are you interested?”

I nod slowly. He’s someone I would like to date. Someone I could maybe be with.

“He sounds like a good guy. He might be good for you,” she tells me gently.

“He is a good guy. He deserves better than a mess like me.”

The depression has become a physical weight in my chest. What happened and the fact I don’t deserve to be happy or in a stable, healthy relationship don’t help any. I am worthless.

“Alright, you have me really worried. Kristoff, are you thinking about killing yourself?”

“I'm not quite there yet.”

“Bu you’re still really bad?”

“Yeah. I don’t get like this.”

“I know. If you need to check in somewhere, I’ll take you. You have my support.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t wanna be hospitalized. I don’t wanna start therapy. I just wanna get through this crap on my own and go on with my life.” I rub my fingers absently over my phoenix tattoo. It was the first piece of ink I got. And it’s the most meaningful. Because phoenixes rise from the ashes. No matter what I face, I'm able to bounce back eventually. Right now, I need that reminder.

“I hate to tell you this, but you’re not Superman. There’s no shame in getting help.”

“I know that.”

I don’t want to need help. I know how society sees people who have mental health issues. And I don’t want them to see me that way. Ransom comes over after his shift tonight. He has a black duffel bag with him this time. Anger flickers in his jade eyes, despite his friendly smile.

“If you don’t wanna babysit me, it’s fine,” I assure him quickly.

“You’re not the problem. I like you. I met your sister.”

“How’d that go? Regan’s a nightmare, isn’t she?”

“You’re nothing alike. We’ve already butted heads.”

“So, they hired her?”

“Don’t threaten me like that. Did you know your sister doesn’t like Jews?” An edge slips into his low voice. I don’t like the distrust in his green eyes.

“No. Ransom, if I had, I would’ve told you.”

“Riley told her off. I know she’s your family and everything, but she was an utter bitch to me.”

“That would be Regan. Are you okay?” I touch his forearm gently. The sleeve of his black hoodie is soft.

“I'm irritated with her. I'm more worried about you.” He smiles gently.

“You still like me? I'm sorry she was nasty.”

“You’re not racist. You okay? I’ve dealt with it a lot.”

I shake my head quietly. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve talked about it enough today.

“What do you need? We can go do something. Or watch movies or whatever will help,” he murmurs gently.

“I'm sorry. You don’t have to stay.”

“You’re my friend. You’re in crisis. I'm not abandoning you.”

I didn’t think he’d want to stay. I know it’s inconvenient. A hassle. Which means I am. But here he is.

“Thanks.”

“How was class? Did anything interesting happen?” He sounds so genuinely interested it surprises me. Guys don’t do that.

“I walked out. Clare and I got into it and I didn’t want to look at her.” I sigh shakily. I feel like all I do anymore is break down. So much for ‘masculinity.’

“You cut class? You never do that. What happened?”

“She knew what happened. Everyone knew. And nobody tried to help me. She blamed me. I didn’t hear from her all weekend either.”

“I thought she was your friend.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

“For what it’s worth, I believe you. And it’s really crappy that they did nothing.”

“Thanks. How’d you meet my sister?”

“I did a tattoo for her. A simple rose she picked out of the book. Took twenty minutes. She argued with me about the aftercare. Called me a stupid kike. That was when Riley stepped in.” He rakes a hand through his hair.

“She should’ve never done that. You’re not stupid. And she should’ve never called you a slur. I'm sorry.”

“I didn’t get a tip. Because my people are ‘money hungry penny-pinching misers.’” He toys with his blue Star of David necklace. I’ve noticed he does this when he’s upset.

“How much was the tattoo?”

“Forty. It’s not a money thing, Kris. It’s the fact she played the anti-Semitic card. The fact she used my race as the reason to not give me a tip, not my work.”

“I knew you were tryin’ to get a new car. That’s why I asked. I'm sorry.”

“You’re not giving me the tip your sister should’ve. I don’t take handouts or pity.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to piss you off. I'm sorry, Ransom. I was tryin’ to be nice.”

“Were you? Or were you trying to be my ‘rescuer’?”

“Yeah, I was! I thought you’d be happy that I was tryin’ to make up for her.” I flinch at the sound of my own raised voice.

“I stand on my own feet. By my own merit.” He sounds just as angry as I am.

“I don’t wanna fight with you.” I don’t have the energy. I’ve spent it on fighting the battle raging inside my head.

“Me either. And you didn’t need me arguing while you’re already feeling bad. Which makes me an ass. I owe you an apology for that. I'm sorry.”

“Forgiven. Thank you for staying.”

“You’re welcome. And I'm not being nice to you just so we can hook up again when you’re okay.”

“I wouldn’t hate you if you were.”

I wish that wasn’t true. I wish I would be angry with him if he was using me. But I can’t do that. Ransom’s sleeping soundly on the couch when I get up. He’s even more adorable asleep. I envy his easy sleep.

I start breakfast, even though I don’t feel much like eating. I don’t feel like going to work or class either, but I have to.

“Good morning. Did you get any sleep?” Ransom says, startling me.

“A couple hours.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I am. I'm gonna send my teachers a text and explain what’s going on.”

I know I can’t avoid Clare forever. I shouldn’t have to. She should’ve believed me and been on my side. But she wasn’t. We’ve known each other since we were fourteen. I mean, I used to go to her family’s holidays because Regan and I fought so much. Clare’s pretty much family to me.

“Good idea. Any way you can take your classes online?” He looks perfectly at home in my kitchen with one of my mugs clutched in his slender hands. I wish the thought didn’t make my stomach twinge. I’ve never had hope for a picket fence of my own.

“I’ll ask.”

I dread going to work almost as much as dealing with Clare. Maybe more.

“Text me on break?” he asks hopefully.

I agree easily. By the end of my shift, I'm ready to quit. Eight hours of being sexually harassed does my fragile mental health zero favors. My boss knows. She doesn’t care.

I don’t tell Ransom over text. I don’t want to upset him. If I tell him at all, it’ll be face-to-face.

I have a text from him, inviting me to dinner. He’s clarified that it’s not a date, which I appreciate. I agree easily.

Maybe if I wasn’t such a broken mess, I’d ask him out. Maybe if I thought he could like me more than for just sex. Maybe if I wasn’t so scared. But I am.

#my writing #lgbt fiction #kris pov #phoenix writes #writing excerpt #original fiction #original fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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spilledinkisms · 7 years ago

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lost myself again, and i feel unsafe.

introduction para: roman kaamil “ghost” dawes.

word count: 6405.

so i finally finished this thing! it took me longer than i expected because of some extreme writer’s block and other issues, but i finally was able to get this typed out after so long of having this rolling around in my head. roman’s story is so much more than this and i wish i could write out everything about him for anybody that would wanna read it, but i think this is a pretty good start so far.

@hearmefeelme @nxvxragain

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flying.

roman feels like he's flying sometimes.

he doesn't exactly knows where it comes from or how it affects him so suddenly or why it comes and goes in small spurts of time and never remains, but he's addicted to the feeling and the thrill it gives him. he's a bolder person, he's a brighter person, he's a happier person - and just the mere thought of it makes his smile grow wide and his heart pound strong, because he's finally able to live how he's supposed to have been all of this time.

he has confidence that comes from nowhere and faith that is unwavering. his stutter lessens with every word he speaks. his head doesn't bow and his shoulders stay squared. his eyes are wide and bright but not from anxiety or worry, but something more... something good.

though he doesn't quite know if anybody else has noticed the change in him, and to roman that is when the test begins.

the kids at school are the first to notice his new demeanor; he gets spoken to more and less pushed around by the other boys, and isn't hiding in the library during lunch period anymore. it’s such a strange sentiment to think that he’s been ignored by everyone for so long but the slightest change in him is noticeable to them, and while it's a feat in itself to be so suddenly accepted and regarded as equal by his peers it takes a while for the normalcy of his school days to sink in.

when his family notices, it's drastic. it takes them much longer to see the change in their son and brother, but roman hadn't expected anything more - they hadn't taken much notice of him before, why would that change now? roman doesn't think too much of it and is surprised at the positivity he receives from the others at his newfound attitude, and it isn't much longer before it's shown outwardly to him.

his mother is radiant. anara looks at him with this expression of happiness and pride when she notices the shift in his confidence and attitude. she seems to be more receptive to him and more understanding, and he's in awe of the nurturing side of her that appears again after so long of being gone from him. the tenderness she so easily gives him is something he rarely gets to experience anymore that he grows overwhelmed at trying to soak it all in on the off chance it goes away.

his father regards him with such a foreign sense of joy that roman doesn't know how to take it at first. adam claps him firmly on his shoulder as he pulls him into a hug, a physicality he doesn't usually dole out to either of his sons but gives it to roman without hesitation. they have actual conversations - ones that aren't lectures or speeches to try and 'perk up' his mood, and ones that aren't him gently chastising the softness that roman usually embodies in hopes that he'll "toughen up" - but something genuine and heartfelt that a father should have with his son, and the connection he once thought was severed between them is soon restored.

nimah plays video games with him one day after her track practice and they spent most of the night laughing and joking in a way they never have before, and when they're both dog-tired at school the next day from their lack of sleep she gives him a goofy grin when they pass each other in the halls. she goes from feeling like a distant relative back to his big sister, to the little girl that he used to trail behind on the playground and sit on her lap during dinner while she snuck him bites of her dessert. it's like meeting an old friend all over again and it's a comfort he hadn't known he was even missing.

sasha goes from being the peacemaker and his one-woman defense squad back to just his little sister. their conversations aren't one-sided run-throughs of roman's emotional state and her playing adolescent therapist, but lighthearted banter about sasha's middle school crushes and her frustrations about playing in the orchestra and the normal issues any 12 year old would have. he can see how at ease and relaxed she feels around him now and he knows it's because of the freedom she has to not worry about him anymore, and if anybody deserved to be a worry-free kid out of any of them it was his baby sister.

all of it is incredible; it makes roman feel like he's actually a part of the family instead of an addition that just doesn't belong - the usual odd one out, but not anymore. the bond he now seems to have with his family in his new ‘normal’ state is distinct and unique, something he hadn’t expected by any means, but even with the most dramatic of changes in the dawes family dynamic nothing is as striking as the shift between roman and maddox.

it's always a difficult thing to explain to someone who isn't a twin what it feels like to have a rift between your biological other half, so nobody fully understood the pain and turmoil roman dealt with on a daily basis with the obvious distance and lack of a relationship he had with maddox. if reuniting with nimah is akin to meeting an old friend and having sasha back makes everything feel right, then having maddox be his brother again is what sends his world back into orbit. his phantom limb has been reattached, the hole in his heart is being mended, he's been out in the middle of the sea with flailing arms and lungs full of salt water only to feel his lifesaver being thrown out to save him - it's a merging and coming together that roman couldn't have even fathomed in his wildest dreams and he'd keep pinching himself to make sure it's all real if maddox hadn't caught on and made him stop.

it starts off with maddox like it does with nimah; a night of video games and junk food and laughter that hasn't been shared in excess in very long, and it doesn't take long before one night turns into three and fades into weekends of holing up in one of their bedrooms with controllers in hand. maddox, unlike the others, starts off small; a pass of their old secret handshake done after their gym class when they go to their next period, a ruffle of his hair and teasing push of his shoulder in passing, and the teasing that borders on harmless and trivial - nothing like the venom he's used to hearing from his brother, and he even finds himself reciprocating the treatment with a newfound ease. things are suddenly so relaxed and casual between them that roman doesn't know how it can get any better - until maddox tugs him into his room to show him the art he's been working on and asks to see some of roman's, and it takes the younger male a moment to steady himself and hold back his tears at the thought of them getting to share something that special with each other again, actually having to wrack his brain to remember the last time their art was shared with each other and the memory escapes him. the way his entire world has been turned upside down in the best way possible has lured roman into a state of hope with an eagerness to do more, to try and show his brother that he's finally going to be the twin that maddox has always hoped for but wasn't able to have.

when it starts to amp up the entire family takes notice and changes accordingly, falling back into the childhood routine of referring to the pair as a unit and treating them as one. roman isn't sure when maddox and roman turned back into "maddox&roman", but roman has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth - if people were starting to reacquaint themselves to their twindom after wanting that for so long he wasn't going to question it or complain about it. he gets waved to and smiled at by other students, high-fived in the halls by the same guys who used to push him around, and invites to house parties aren't given to him to pass off to his brother - they're for them both and when the pair show up with all of the dawes' flair maddox has made his own, roman can actually feel that half of the eyes staring at them are gazing at him, not for the sake of being maddox's identical sidekick but for them finally being equal.

he wonders how much longer it'll last; if this bravado stemming from a place unknown will one day fade and leave him to his own devices and have him scrambling as things go back to before. he wonders how he'll be able to handle his return to anonymity and being ostracized coupled with the loss of his family all over again when that moment finally comes, but instead of a fade away back into the routine he’s known for so long he gets a punch forward that has him brazen in a way he's never been. he's fearless and elated and invigorated in such a sense that roman almost wonders how he went so long without this feeling, that he's spent so much of his life hiding in the shadows and letting his sensitivities run him ragged when this could've been his life all along. he still doesn't know what to call this sudden revelation or how to explain it to anybody else, or why his change in mood is enough to make people treat him like somebody worth caring about, but as long as it keeps making his life better he figures he won't have to explain it - he can just forget about the past few years of his life and make the best with the gift he’s been given now. he keeps running on 10 on a daily basis without any means of stopping; he accepts more affection from his mother and spends more time with his father, becomes sasha's confidante instead of the other way around and finds himself back in nimah's good graces as her sweetheart baby brother, and he goes from being a nuisance and burden on maddox into his proper other half in a short amount of time. it's a new facet of his life that he doesn't see himself getting rid of and he only wants more of it, wants to continue being the person he's always wanted and the person that everyone deserved to have, and nothing will stop him from achieving that goal.

being on 10 is more than fine, has been perfect for roman so far in this journey of turning his life around for the better. he feels like, during his time of being different, he was operating on a solid 2, but after this new change he was fully convinced that the 10 wavelength he was on was the highest number on the scale he could reach when it came to his new outlook on life.

that is, until it isn't.

a 10 is fine. an 11 isn't noticeable and a 12 barely makes anybody bat an eye. his exuberance is see as his foray into coming out of his shell and he’s cheered on by everyone around him when they see his confidence increase.

when he gets to a 15 he goes to get his nose pierced on a whim and ends up cutting his hair all in the span of a few hours, his family attributes it to his new wild and daring persona and doesn’t question it much, only wanting him to do whatever makes him happy and gives him more freedom after so long of being without it. everyone is convinced that he's alright, simply because roman doesn’t think anything is wrong himself, but when the numbers start to climb into a territory that he’s never before seen and his elevated mood turns him into a person nobody seems to recognize it starts to feel as if maybe this was all too good to be true like he thought.

his actions to stay on his family's good side never end, they're relentless and determined in a way that starts to worry sasha and has nimah becoming more watchful over roman. his parents were always clueless when it came to caring for him how he needs so they keep any concerns or questions to themselves, and maddox sees this unhinged side of roman as just being his brother being adventurous after so long of being afraid, and instead of trying to quell the rebellion he can see brewing behind his brother’s matching eyes he does whatever he can to advance it. they sneak alcohol when nobody's looking and smoke on the back porch late at night, steal their parents' keys and take joyrides when they can and get multiple detention slips for skipping class. the straight A’s start to dwindle and his absences from his art classes don’t go unnoticed, and when phone calls from the principal start to come in about his behavior he’s only told to rein it in a little by his father. chalking it up to ‘boys being boys’ or ‘teenage angst’ as the reasoning for the departure of roman’s usual scholarly manner, adam dawes is able to talk down his wife’s anger at the disobedience of both of her sons – not willing to fail when it comes to raising her children in the stern way she had become accustomed to for so long. all it takes is a few disappointed looks from his mother when report cards come in that has all of the rowdiness that maddox encompasses becoming a sense of calm. he plays around and slacks off more than he’s willing to admit but he’s able to step up when it counts, and with the synergy he’s been experiencing with his brother lately it’s safe to assume that roman will soon follow suit like usual.

it isn’t the first time someone’s assumptions of roman turned out to be wrong, but it’s the time that will stick out in their minds during all moments to come.

defiant isn’t a word anybody would usually attribute to roman, neither insolent or troublesome, but things have changed – roman has changed – and the descriptors never once used by others are slowly seeming to be true. his time at school gets worse; mouthing off at teachers and disrupting classes, soon not even bothering to show up on campus at all. every voicemail left by the principal on their home phone is deleted and the letters sent are trashed, his demeanor becoming one of uncaring and indifference that soon translates into other aspects of his life. he ditches spending time with sasha one evening to hang out with guys from school instead, misses a video game date with nimah to get high with some of the upperclassmen, and at the next party he attends with maddox he doesn’t partake in their usual twin takeover and instead gets so wasted that it takes his brother over an hour to get him home and upstairs in bed without their parents finding out. his actions are enough to kickstart sasha’s worrying and has nimah withdrawing from him more and more in confusion, and it isn’t much longer until his relationship with his parents is back to being nonexistent – with added amounts of tension and anger that weren’t there previously and don’t seem to be going anywhere. i’m fine though – is what he tells himself. i’ve been surviving this long without them being there for me and i’ve been fine. i’m either too much or too little, too quiet or too loud, not enough or more than anybody can handle - i’m never going to be what they want and it doesn’t matter. i don’t need them, i never did – if they don’t want to deal with me anymore then that’s on them, not me. i’ll be fine on my own.

nothing changes or gets any better with his attitude or his tumultuous relationship with the rest of his family and the strain is evident despite how they all do their best to keep things relaxed and civil. it’s not good or promising or healthy by any means, but nothing damaging takes place and everyone is still intact and it’s more than anybody could hope for at this point. as long as everything is some form of manageable then it isn’t something to worry about - that’s the dawes family M.O. - and it wouldn’t be any different until something came along to change that.

it all comes to a head on a friday night.

the beginning of homecoming weekend is monumental in the dawes household for years. their father played football at their high school and always gets caught up in the big game with the other alumni when they see each other again. nimah’s track meets are in the morning and she dances with the cheerleading squad in the evenings, both for her father’s beloved sport and during halftime at maddox’s basketball game, to which the crowd goes crazy when maddox passes off the ball to help make the winning shot in the middle of the fourth quarter. roman is used to watching them in the spotlight and letting them have their time to shine, and isn’t surprised at the looks of pride on his parents’ faces and the admiration in sasha’s eyes, more than familiar with the lack of treatment being shown towards with him not participating in anything of interest during the events. usually he’d be sad, even a little bit jealous at the attention they’re being given, but his mind is too busy being preoccupied of thoughts of the after party that’s already been named ‘the best event of the year’ and how much fun he’s going to be having compared to the other years of being alone. while his family hasn’t been positive lately about his still improved behavior his school mates and friends still welcome the new roman with open arms, and the prospect of attention he’ll willingly be given when he’s around them later in the night is enough to keep his mood uplifted.

by the time the football game ends and the family is back together the eldest kids are already prepared to go their separate ways to go to the homecoming bash, and with only a lax warning of being careful from their father and a firm one to stay out of trouble from their mother they’re off to get on the road and start the rest of their night, lines of people waiting to get in and music already spilling out from the house when they arrive. it’s a blur of dimmed lights, moving bodies, and loud voices that draws them in almost immediately once they step inside and are off to join in with their different groups of friends. roman gets a beer passed to him in the first ten minutes of being there and downs it in record time, soon being pulled onto the dance floor when the beat kicks up. he’s all smiles when he finds himself between the throngs of people and sees maddox and nimah already starting to converge onto the crowded dance floor, the three of them finding each other through the masses and falling into the rhythm that bounces around them.

for that moment all of their recent issues are pushed to the side in favor of having fun, and a little hint of their bond reappears in front of their eyes. to roman, it feels like how things were between them at the beginning of his change – even brings up memories of them as children and how close they all used to be before they started to grow up and branch out on their own while roman’s timidity kept him lagging behind, and how he doesn’t have to worry about that lost time anymore. he’s with his identical better half and his oldest best friend having the time of their lives and he’s better than ever, no longer the black sheep or odd man out that’s become the role he’s used to playing, he’s one of the stars of the show now – and he doesn’t plan on having that change any time soon.

they get through two more dances before they’re back mingling with their groups of friends, the energy of the party only increasing with every song change and more people crowding the dance floor, and with the added amount of alcohol being passed around it’s only a matter of time before the night starts getting out of control. the first beer roman has barely does anything to him, but when that one turns into three and shots are being slid his way and the blunt between his lips is laced with something different it becomes more than obvious that roman’s state of mind is completely off kilter. the atmosphere of the party seems to shift with him and before long the usual rowdiness that’s become the norm of these events is amplified times ten. the music grows louder, the alcohol seems to flow endlessly, the energy beating through the room hits him and takes him somewhere else, and with everything in his system and more being put in he’s in a haze almost immediately, not giving any mind to anything or anybody around him.

like she has a sixth sense of knowing that something’s wrong with him, it doesn’t take long before nimah goes looking for him and finds him through the crowd again, only this time she’s filled with worry at seeing the state he’s in and knowing she has to take care of it. she has a moment of fear at the anger her parents will unleash on them for letting roman underage drink and smoke until he’s this out of sorts, but she figures the quicker she can get him home safe the less time he’s inebriated in public and unable to get caught up in anymore trouble. she wraps his arm around her shoulder and grabs him by the waist to lead him past the people, his ‘friends’ letting her take him without a fight as the pair both stumble through the crowd until they find the door, the sudden cool air of the outside and lack of music bumping around them making roman more alert to the situation at hand. head lolling onto nimah’s shoulder as he starts to perk back up it’s a quick scramble as he tries to get out of her arms and back into the party, barely making it three steps before she’s pulling him back by his jacket sleeve to keep him in her grip.

dealing with drunk maddox is easy - he’s a simple creature who only gets tired and quiet and easy to coerce back home, but drunk roman is another beast entirely that nimah’s never seen before and doesn’t know how to handle, especially in her less than sober state as well. he’s easily agitated and argumentative, snapping at her and shakily pushing her away to try and return back to the perfect night out he was having, and the steeled gaze she gives him along with the stern shake of her head only further sets him off. his voice grows in volume and his words turn harsh as their quick push-and-pull turns into a complete blow up, with her trading screams with him and letting her anger get the better of her when he refuses to listen, and their attitudes clash heavily in the moment until it’s a chest to chest shouting match on the front lawn of this house - slurred words releasing frustration that has built up long before this party even happened.

it’s a battle of ‘why are you acting this way?’ countered with ‘why aren’t you happy that i finally fit in?’ shouts of ‘this isn’t you and you know it’ and ‘you don’t even know who i am in the first place, so don’t tell me what you think you know.’ and sentiments hurled at each other like ‘why can’t you just be fucking normal for once?’ to ‘why can’t you and our fucking family love me whether i’m normal or not?’

the shouting match turns hostile when roman manages to push nimah away from him, shoving her when she grips his jacket again to lead him away from the party, and in his haste it’s enough to make her fall back on the grass in shock. he’s sobering up almost immediately, hand he used to push her now outstretched to help her up to her feet while apologies are steadily leaving his lips, only to be pushed back roughly and kept separated from her by a livid looking maddox. having noticed their exit to the party he followed behind them but managed to keep his distance until they started arguing, and now with him getting physical with nimah is enough to start a whole new round of fighting with himself and maddox.

if the shouting match with him and nimah was intense, then the one that breaks out with his brother is brutal; they’re loud enough that the few outside stragglers at the party make themselves scarce and head back inside, not wanting to get involved with the insults being traded back and forth. nimah is up on her feet in an instant and tries to stand between them, leaning against maddox’s chest and facing off with roman herself - eyes full of anger and frustration and fear - like she’s trying to protect maddox from him, and the implication that he’s suddenly the one that’s dangerous between the two of them sets him off like none other. fire spits from his tongue as he lashes out viciously at the pair, anger directed at them, at their parents, at the way he’s been regarded for most of his life by the people around him without any thought or care about his feelings, and he lets everything out. in retrospect roman’s heard of stories like this, of people going years with holding him harmful emotions that have plagued them to the point of snapping, and in the few moments he thought if he would be one of those people one day he never thought his breaking point would come while drunk off his ass on the outside of a homecoming house party, but there was so much hurt that was unearthed from him that there was no way to have any semblance of control when it came to his pain.

by the time there’s nothing left for him to say and he’s left heaving and breathless before the pair, he barely has time to steady himself before maddox is sidestepping around nimah’s frame and throwing a punch in his direction, hitting roman square in the jaw with zero hesitation. the heat in his gaze is matched only by the matching look that roman throws his way, face scrunched up in searing pain and rampant anger as his own fist collides with maddox’s face in retaliation, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears muffling the sound of the punch connecting and nimah’s pleads with them to stop. it’s another shove and hit and shuffle before they’re on the ground brawling, maddox having roman pinned as he lays hit after hit onto his brother only until roman gains the upper hand, both of them going back and forth between advancing on the other until the fight is broken up, both of them being lifted and set apart by a pair of their friends. when they’re actually set down and roman is able to take a look around him, he stops dead in his tracks. it went from just being the three of them to soon being a small crowd outside of the house, all of them watching the show before them with curious, judging eyes as the fight was broken up, and he can only manage a few moments of their staring before he’s rushing past the crowd and his siblings, leaving the aftermath of the commotion he’s caused far behind him.

roman wakes up the next morning in bed to a silent house. vague memories of his friends finding him after he ran off and helping him get home flashing through his head while nimah and maddox left him alone. when he finds that his head finally stops swimming he’s able to take in his aching body and how bruised up he feels, thinking of the fight from the night before and knowing that regardless of how many hits he might’ve got in on maddox, he’s definitely more banged up than his brother. he already decides that he’s not leaving the bed for the rest of the day before he even tries to move, still feeling like he’s in a daze after everything that went on mere hours ago.

his eyes blur with tears and his chest heaves with heavy sobs as he curls under his blankets, nothing but guilt and anger and frustration being released from him in waves. roman has always been emotionally based - tended to feel more than everyone else around him did - but it was as if all of his feelings decided to come out all at once and left him feeling broken and distraught, his heart aching at the maelstrom he’s caught in the middle of.

the tears are an off and on constant for most of the day; when they aren’t falling he’s staring off into space and being comforted by the quiet. he can hear when his family wakes up and moves about the house all around him, but nobody bothers to come check on him even with hours of his absence being known, leaving him to his own devices like they usually tended to. he doesn’t move much from his spot and doesn’t have the stomach to bother getting anything to eat, chalking it up to the hangover more than anything else, and it’s not long before it creeps into the evening hours and he hasn’t moved from his spot.

when someone finally musters up the energy to go and check on him it’s no surprise that it’s sasha who’s there. all wide brown eyes full of concern with a plate of food in her hands, gaze raking over his frame and trying to conceal her worry when she sees how bruised he is. every question she goes to ask him is unanswered, he barely spares her a look in the eye, and when she sets the food down for him and he makes no move to eat it she can tell that something more than the usual is wrong - but all she does instead is gives him a quick hug and urges him to get some food in his system before she’s gone again.

she comes back in the morning with a new plate of food and the same worried expression on her features, them only becoming morose at the sight of his untouched food and him being in the same spot. she’s seen roman go through sad spells before, knows of his depression and how bad it can get sometimes, but the vacant looks in his eyes and the lack of any emotional at all was something she had never seen from her brother and immediately had her on edge. she doesn’t keep her worries to herself this time, telling her parents almost immediately and trying to do the same with nimah and maddox to see if they can help. maddox is a lost cause, not unlike how he was with his twin before this change in him, but even in her anger nimah follows behind sasha to go check on him, heart twisting at the confirmation before her.

she tries talking to him, saying anything she can just to get him to react, to even look at her for a moment, but it doesn’t take her long to realize that roman’s not mentally there - he’s deep in his mind and isn’t coming out, left immobile and in a stupor from his own emotional state. not even her pre-med studying needed to tell her what this is, she could see it plain as day.

catatonia, she thinks to herself, catatonic. complete shutdown. numb. gone.

that’s when everything turns upside down.

flying.

roman still feels like he’s flying sometimes.

that he’s lighter than air and unstoppable, confident and bolder than he’s ever been, invincible - like nothing could ever take this feeling away from him, that it’s a high he’ll never come down from.

he always comes down, though. he’s never up in the air for too long.

because just as easily as he can fly he can crash and burn, his wings can disappear and leave him spiraling back down to earth headfirst, his confidence wanes as fast as his invincibility does and leaves him a shell of himself without any way to find his way back.

he’s either soaring past clouds or left broken on the pavement below him, one extreme to the other without any pattern of when his tides will change until they just do.

roman flashes back to the night of the fight he had with his siblings, remembers the words yelled at him by maddox in the heat of his anger as he wailed on him; freak. psycho. crazy. bipolar.

his brother is smarter than roman gives him credit for, because maddox figured it out before anybody else did.

after nimah saw him so unresponsive and out of it she and sasha got their parents involved, with their mother being confused and their father being worried but it was more than enough for them to take him to the hospital, almost immediately being transferred to a mental health ward to be observed.

he doesn’t remember much about waking up out of his daze, or the tests they ran or the medicine they tried to would work with him, or the weeks of him being kept in the ward until he was stable - all he really remembers is the hospital’s therapist giving him her diagnosis.

bipolar disorder. manic depressive disorder. a mix of his exuberant highs and overwhelming, numbing lows.

it’s a strange feeling to have something that’s been a part of you for so long called out by name, an aspect of your personality that plagued you on a daily basis little by little until it ran rampant inside of you until you couldn’t control it anymore. to know that there was a reason for you being different, but having the confirmation that you’re not the same as the people around you and it makes you feel more ostracized than you did before. it wasn’t just a personality trait, it’s an illness that’s been ingrained in him since he was young with nothing to be done about it, and it finally puts together so many missing pieces he’s been in search of for a long time.

medication is his saving grace; keeps him neutral and stable, in a safe place where he doesn’t have to delve into the extremes of his highs and lows, and with therapy he’s able to release his emotions in a way that’s healthy without setting him back, and it’s the first coping mechanism he’s ever had that truly works for him.

his time in the spotlight with his family and classmates fades away in time. his mother goes back to her distance nature with him and his father’s ambivalence is back in place, almost as if nothing happened in the first place.

he’s made amends with nimah to where they get along more and spend time together, a change he’s surprised that took place but is appreciative that she still cares about him.

sasha is still his partner in crime but not much like before. he stops making her his confidant and lets her be his little sister without any dealings too far into his illness - he wants her to stay a kid for as long as she can, because he lost so much of that innocence before he was ready to.

maddox, though - it’s a slippery slope that he travels with his twin brother. the divide between them is as vast as it’s ever been and roman is resigned to knowing that it’ll never be bridged again. too much bad blood has been traded back and forth for them to be okay again, so much anger and resentment among other things are too much for them to mend what’s been broken. he’s had time to grow used to being without his brother being in his life when it really counts, so he’s left with the memories of their brief time together getting along and having to be satisfied with just that.

he’s back to being invisible and unnoticed in school by his peers, but with a lack of him being picked on makes that solitude worth it. it’s not perfect by any means, it’s not anything he wants, but it’s more than enough.

it’s a daily battle to keep himself from slipping back into his ways, from him feeling stable enough to think he no longer needs his meds and going off track with them, but he’s managed to take all of the strength he has to make sure that he keeps himself functioning the way he should and to keep fighting to not let his illness win.

he doesn’t want this one thing to define his life or who he is, and despite the people who attribute the disorder with him he wants to be able to show everyone how much more he is than just this one part of him. roman isn’t in over his head, he knows just how long this journey is going to be for him and doesn’t mind the path he has to take to get there - he just wants to take everything one day at a time.

it’s not ascending flight, or a nosedive toward the ground.

it’s step by step, inch by inch, moment by moment, breath by breath.

it’s something good.

and to roman, this is when his real test begins.

#( ` &. MUSINGS | GHOST. )#not even sure if this is even good or not but here it is #i just want to do an entire character study on roman and go even deeper into his background than this goes because he's so complex #but here's a little glimpse of rome in his beginning stages just to start #tw; mentall illness #tw; mentions of violence

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kristablogs · 4 years ago

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Surfers are riding a wave of new technologies to their Olympic debut

Riding waves is physically demanding, and preparing for competition requires intense cross-training that's being bettered by precise motion and muscle tracking. (Jake Marote/Red Bull/)

Popular Science’s Play issue is now available to everyone. Read it now, no app or credit card required.

One of the best surf spots in the United States to practice aerial tricks is in central Texas, some 200 miles from the Gulf Coast. On a brisk December day at the BSR Surf Resort, Caroline Marks was ripping a front-side air reverse. Aquamarine water sloshed off the concrete rear wall of the wave pool as she pumped down the line and flew off the crest of a head-high breaker into a clockwise spin. She grabbed the rail of her board as she came around and landed with a splash, sunlight glinting off the spray. She looked like she was having a blast.

The 18-year-old Californian has ridden in artificial lagoons before, but this was her first time at BSR. It features an oncoming white-water section perfectly suited to her signature explosive maneuvers. Surfable waves roll through with metronomic precision, as many as 150 an hour. “There aren’t always opportunities for people to do airs in the ocean, but at Waco there is, over and over again,” Marks says, grinning with characteristic excitement. She and three of her brothers spent the day here, one-upping each other into the evening under the glare of stadium lights. “One hundred percent, it was so much fun,” she says.

Luke and Zach Marks introduced their younger sister to wave riding when she was 8 and the family lived in Florida. Even now, she loves shredding with them. The week before their session in Waco, she finished the World Surf League championship tour ranked second internationally, behind Carissa Moore, the 27-year-old veteran who won her fourth title. That secured their spots, with Kolohe Andino and John John Florence, on the US Olympic team for the sport’s debut in Tokyo. Although the COVID-19 pandemic has pushed the Summer Games to 2021, the squad is set.

Moore, who grew up in Hawaii and has been a dominant competitor for a decade, says that when she was a kid dreaming of going pro, the Olympics weren’t on her radar and artificial waves were never consistent enough to warrant excitement. But—surprise!—in the past two years, she ended up winning the first major event staged on them and securing a shot at gold. Marks, on the other hand, has grown up with such things as givens. She was 14 when the games’ international governing body added surfing to the lineup. One year later, she became the youngest person ever to qualify for the professional tour.

As surfing prepares for its global spotlight, it is experiencing a seismic shift from a laid-back, go-with-the-flow mindset to one shaped by innovations in data analysis, physiological testing, and technology. Specialists in fields such as nutrition, psychology, and orthopedics are working with US surfing coaches like Brett Simpson to develop an Olympic training regimen that increasingly resembles those long favored by everything from basketball to volleyball. The team is undergoing cognitive analysis, establishing baseline biometrics, and tracking analytics to enhance performance. Surfers are experimenting with gear like pressure-sensing booties to glean insights into board control and GPS-equipped motion trackers to improve paddling technique. This embrace of science and technology has come as research and engineering yield advances long considered impossible—most obviously, consistent machine-made barrels suitable for competition. Some of the gadgetry can’t help but eventually make its way onto beaches everywhere, adopted by recreational enthusiasts and elite competitors alike, further changing the culture of the sport.

The job of maximizing all this potential falls to Kevyn Dean, the US team medical director. An orthopedic physical therapist who has spent two decades using physiology and biomechanics to help top wave riders achieve their best, Dean was the first to push such an approach within USA Surfing, the organization that selects teams for international competition. He sees the evidence-based methods that he pioneered within the sport inevitably ruling it, pushing it into the future. “Caroline’s is the generation that will be coming up with these tools, and more, at their disposal,” he says.

Caroline Marks rides a wave in Honolua Bay, Maui. The Olympian is among those at the vanguard of surfing’s embrace of science. (Kelly Cestari/World Surf League/Getty Images/)

In September 2015, when she was a 13-year-old preparing for the International Surfing Association World Junior Surfing Championship, Marks broke her foot and ankle in several places doing a backside turn. The move places heavy pressure and flexion on the leading ankle to drive the board up the face of the wave, and the white water shoved her foot into an acute angle. “I was out of the water for three months,” she says. “I went from surfing four to six hours a day to nothing. It felt like an eternity.” Dean treated her with the goal of erasing the deficits from her injury and tweaking her technique to reduce the chance of another—a kind of “prehab.”

They worked on improving her stability, balance, and coordination with exercises that increased the strength and functional range of her joints and bolstered her core posture and movement. (One foundational technique, called dynamic neuromuscular stabilization, saw her crawling much like a baby to unlearn bad habits by relearning basic movements.)

Like many, Dean once viewed surfing as a lifestyle, not a sport. He came to it after earning his graduate degree in physical therapy in 1991 and going to work at a Veterans Affairs clinic in Long Beach, California. His hobby and his career converged on the shores of sunny SoCal. “As I surfed more frequently and wanted to get better,” he says, “I started to think about it differently—what do I need to do to catch more waves and make more turns?”

Spending time in the gym was not something any respectable surfer did back then; likewise, few people considered hanging ten a serious athletic pursuit. But Dean’s clinical background led him to begin reconsidering those notions. When his son started catching waves with friends, he asked more questions: Why don’t surfers train the way football players and wrestlers do? What are the baseline functions they need to perform? He assessed the boys’ movements on the water and developed conditioning plans involving unstable surfaces like balance boards and Bosu balls. The teenagers eagerly sought every advantage, so he reevaluated their progress regularly and responded with new adjustments. He reviewed hours of video footage, focusing on their technique and pondering how to help them from a biomechanical perspective.

Dean expanded upon that model when he opened a surfing-oriented gym in 2005 in Huntington Beach, a seaside community near Los Angeles. (He moved the operation a bit farther south to San Clemente, home to many of the sport’s stars, in 2010.) Over the years he has trained Simpson, who won two US Open championships, and other stars of the pro tour, including Nate Yeomans, Griffin Colapinto, and Kanoa Igarashi. Six years ago, he added physical therapy to the mix, tying together the two threads of his life’s work.

USA Surfing named Dean medical director in 2017 and tasked him with assembling a committee of coaches, orthopedic surgeons, physiologists, psychologists, and other experts. Their mandate is to create “high-performance” surfers. In the competition lexicon, that means emphasizing anything that can improve the odds of winning: strength and conditioning, nutrition, equipment evaluation, video and data analysis, even mental health. The US Olympic & Paralympic Committee has long embraced such a strategy. “My whole goal,” Dean says, “is to get top surfers to do what a lot of major sports are already doing.”

His methods grew from a belief that competitors should control the variables they can and leave the unknowns on the beach. A nutritionist, for example, advises on energy and hydration needs before, during, and after an event. “You’ll see a lot of surfers who barely take a sip of water in a five-hour competition in blazing sun and heat,” Dean says. “Can you think of any other elite athletes who aren’t drinking water?”

Dean radiates calm expertise. While he embodies the professionalization of surfing, his fluency in its sick-stoke language lends him credibility. “There are definitely some choke points when it comes to growing out of a lifestyle,” he says, recounting some of the criticism he’s read and heard over the years: Spend all the time you like in the gym, but the only way to improve is on the water. Competition and scoring bastardize the sport. The best surfer is the one having the most fun. “But the reality is that there are elite athletes making their living by performing at a top level,” he says. “The best surfer is the one who is actually in the water, and if you’re injury laden, you can’t be in the water. Everyone can understand that.”

On a bright morning in December 2019, Dean was performing a medical assessment on Nico Coli, who had just won gold in the team Aloha Cup event at the ISA world junior championship. The 16-year-old Californian was among a handful of amateurs spending the day at Mamba Sports Academy, the top-flight gym co-founded by the late NBA star Kobe Bryant. They were there to see how science, technology, and data can augment conditioning and improve performance. Coli’s left ankle had been bothering him. “You can see over time that as these kids get older, the back leg hip rotation becomes much more limited,” Dean said, pointing out the shorter range of motion of the teenager’s left leg. “The symptom of this is ankle pain,” Dean continued as Coli, who tries to surf twice each day, grimaced. “So even though his balance and coordination are pretty spot on, we work to give Nico more mobility.”

Mamba Sports Academy emphasizes using science and data to boost achievement, something that has prompted NBA and NFL players to train there. Dean works alongside Tracy Axel, director of high-performance analytics for the Olympic team. They met in 2011, when Dean advised her on her graduate thesis, and in 2018 they published a paper in the International Journal of Exercise Science. The study—based on measurements from 19 elite surfers—found that an emphasis on building core and lower body strength, rotational power, and flexibility significantly improves ability, which may increase the odds of success in competition.

Marks was among eight Olympic hopefuls who met at Mamba in early 2019 for physiological and mental evaluation. They spent two days jumping and standing on sensor-laden platforms to analyze hip and groin imbalances, taking cognitive tests to judge reaction time, and having their body composition measured in an egg-shaped device called the Bod Pod. Each of them had a high chance of qualifying for the games, and USA Surfing wanted to establish a baseline of their fitness and conditioning to help their coaches develop programs with input from physiologists and other experts.

In the cognition lab, Marks smacked buttons in a test designed to assess her reaction time and peripheral vision. In the gym, she leaped off a box onto force plates that recorded her center of gravity and weight distribution as she landed. “I’d never done reaction time testing, or the balance of your right foot versus your left foot,” she says. These factors are key. “It’s amazing to have these tests show you that what you felt like is not always the reality. And the more information you know about your body, the better, I think.”

An emphasis on science and data seems like a no-brainer. But adopting the “Mamba mentality”—the phrase Bryant coined for this kind of all-in, focused preparation—can be tricky when it comes to merging Olympic team priorities with those of the athletes and their coaches.

Mike Parsons, a big-wave rider who was inducted into the Surfer’s Hall of Fame in 2008, works with Marks and her teammate Andino. Although Parsons welcomes Dean’s insights, they augment, but do not replace, his regimen. “Their programs are pretty specific and strict, from what they eat to their sleeping habits,” he says. “It was all pretty dialed in for the world tour, and they’ll likely stick to that routine for the Olympics too.” He pauses, then laughs. “The stakes are just a lot higher.”

That explains why Coach Simpson urges team USA to tap Dean’s expertise. “With the Olympics only coming every four years, the pros are nervous about messing up their routines,” Simpson says. “But they should be looking at this kind of training as an extension of their careers.”

Not everyone will embrace these new tools due to time, cost, personal preference, or just plain superstition. And even the best preparation is no guarantee of success in a sport that places everyone at the mercy of waves, weather, and other factors. No one ever thought a sea turtle would lay eggs on Tsurigasaki Beach near Tokyo during a trial run of the Olympic surfing format in July 2019. And no one expected to find themselves grinding through rapid-fire heats in brutal humidity and temperatures that reached 90 degrees during the ISA World Surfing Games two months later. At least in some ways, surfing will always be surfing, in all of its variable, unpredictable glory.

This story appeared in the Summer 2020, Play issue of Popular Science.

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scootoaster · 4 years ago

Text

Surfers are riding a wave of new technologies to their Olympic debut

Riding waves is physically demanding, and preparing for competition requires intense cross-training that's being bettered by precise motion and muscle tracking. (Jake Marote/Red Bull/)

Popular Science’s Play issue is now available to everyone. Read it now, no app or credit card required.

Caroline Marks rides a wave in Honolua Bay, Maui. The Olympian is among those at the vanguard of surfing’s embrace of science. (Kelly Cestari/World Surf League/Getty Images/)

This story appeared in the Summer 2020, Play issue of Popular Science.

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starlettemagnechalastor · 6 years ago

Text

Mun’s history

I grew up in good ol’ Texas, despite being born in Virginia. My mom divorced my biological dad and move to Texas when I was 2, so I really have no memory or connection with my biological dad.

She married my stepdad when I was 5. We moved into his house, and for many years, I always thought I had a normal childhood...

Until I started therapy MANY years later.

Being coerced into thinking back made me realize how fucked the marriage was.

The fighting, the emotional and verbal abuse, the religious indoctrination..

The bullshit gender norms my stepdad tried to force on me.

Example: Women cannot wear hats.

So my mom and I wore caps and whatever hats we liked cause fuck him.

She was miserable in the relationship, they ALWAYS fought. Once, my mom told me he wanted a divorce because I was “too smart.”

I was 6.

And unconsciously, all the abuse of my dad (He often called my younger brother and I names, and would make us paranoid by scaring the shit out of us whenever he could. Once or twice? Fine. But don’t hide behind the walls all the time and jump out at us.), the worthlessness I felt because my religion taught me I was broken and filthy without Jesus (thanks grandma).

I admit, I attempted to take my life when I was 7. I tried to swallow a bottle of pills. We had a whole medicine cabinet and I was easily able to access the medicine. My brother caught on when I gave him my prized snow globe music box and told him I didn’t need it anymore.

My mom burst into my room as I opened the bottle.

She hid all medications and all sharp objects for months. But I wasn’t taken to a therapist.

No professional to help me.

10 years of age: One day, my mom snapped and attempted suicide by shooting herself with my dad’s gun. He tried to grab the gun, and a bullet fired. It hit her side and broke their bathroom sink. Police woke me up in the middle of the night, and my grandmother was there in tears.

Middle school: I was forced into a christian school, my mom was paranoid over gossip of the public middle school. And of course, when the ENTIRE class was questioned about their faith...I hesitated. Which made me an instant target for severe bullying. From people pretending to have romantic interest in me, to physically assaulting me. I kept it to myself for my entire middle school life, until the day they busted my bike, which was how I got home. And despite the school saying the damages would be covered and I’d get an apology letter, that never happened.

My mom moved me to a charter school.

The only significant memories I have of THAT gem was that they tried to get me to CHEAT on a TAKS test and that I was bullied for being a virgin.

I told my parents about the TAKS, they confronted the school staff...and they held me back.

So, repeating 10th grade in a public high school.

My mom, over the years, has been in and out of the hospital. Which meant my brother and I were in a house with a man who was emotionally constipated and constantly harassed, berated, and insulted his children.

But constantly reminded us about how he’s so great for marrying a woman with two children.

My mom, when she was home, had a lot of medical problems. She had a small spine, so they had to remove a part of her hip to normalize the length, she couldn’t breathe properly on her own, she had to have a nurse coming over to check on her often, she had a pacemaker, she ended up with diabetes, she had seizures that were mostly triggered by flashing lights, and she had to have certain medications injected.

This woman, my mother, was the one who got me into art, who ALWAYS supported me. I think she knew I was transgender before I did, she gave me my first short haircut that had my FAMILY, all except her brother, call me a dyke. She was always there for my lows, knew I had self-esteem issues, she bred my artistic side where I could be FREE.

12 years old, my uncle (the only other light of my life) got engaged to a pediatric nurse. Her name was Stephanie. They had a kid together already, his name was Aiden. Stephanie asked us to come to a family reunion to meet her family.

I didn’t see any red flags when I got there, but things started being weird when I met a few of the would-be cousins.

One man, who looked like he was in his 20s, was REALLY handsy with me. He even lifted my leg and SPANKED me while we were hanging out outside. REMINDER: I WAS 12 YEARS OLD AT THE TIME.

Then I met this kid named Matthew.

A monster in the making.

He wasn’t handsy, he was a chill guy. He was even invited to our house and we sat at the dining room table to watch videos.

THEN

And ONLY THEN

did he start groping me.

He went as far as shoving his hand down my pants.

And I was so confused, so disturbed and horrified, that I could only quietly cry and plead for him to stop.

I never told my parents, my grandparents, never told an adult.

I only told my brother when he brought Matthew over one day, many years later. I told him he was NEVER allowed in our house again, and my brother wholeheartedly agreed, thankfully.

And thank fuck I never had to see that jerk because someone blew the whistle on him to my parents. Someone caught him groping girl’s butts at the next family reunion.

Fast forward to 14 years of age

At the time, I didn’t know she had a drug abuse problem.

She was crushing medications she was to be taking orally, mixing them with water, and injecting them.

And I helped her do it, because I thought I was helping her get better.

I wanted her SO BADLY to get better.

I prayed so hard, being a devout christian.

I begged and PLEADED for her to get better so I could have my mom back, so we could be TOGETHER again. To have her bright smile and shitty ass jokes (After my mom came home from the attempted suicide, she would always joke about how she should’ve shot herself while holding a toy gun. Or called gangsters wimps for limping after getting shot. She was weird :) And I loved that about her), I just wanted my mom.

I was only a young teen, and I was starting to figure out my gender identity. I couldn’t go to my dad, I didn’t trust him like I trusted her.

I visited her constantly, she tried to teach me more about coloring and encouraged me to practice singing. She was my teacher ^^ And because of her, I clung to teachers and befriended them. My art teachers LOVED me, they did all they could to protect me from bullies that would throw erasers at me, ruin my projects, and draw on my posters. I loved all my teachers, they were kind and understanding and helped me get through the years while my mom was unable to.

My mom gave me all the love and support I could ever wish for. She never required me to be one way, but told me no matter if I was an atheist, satanist, if I was gay or straight, NO MATTER THE CHANGE, she would ALWAYS love me.

And it scared me when she ended up with a staph infection in her heart.

The surgery went well, she managed to recover. Doctors removed the infected valve with a pig’s valve. She came home, and I stuck by her side.

I’d sneak in cigarettes when she asked.

And..my dad tried to turn me against my own mom with texts that I had no context to go by.

I can’t really remember the texts, but I remember feeling devastated. But I still did ANYTHING she asked.

...I lost her when I was 16.

The staph infection was back. She only had a 10% chance of surviving another surgery.

My dad had to explain that to me, so I skipped school that day, December 8 of 2011, to be with her on her last day.

She wasn’t conscious.

I remember sitting there numbly, not really paying attention to the tv in the room. My dad was in and out, as well as some nurses.

One by one, my great aunts, my second cousins, and my grandmother came to say their goodbyes.

I overheard the nurse tell my dad that once they unplugged the machines, she would be dead.

But I think she was dead long before that. Brain dead. Her heart was pumping, but she wasn’t there.

I broke down once my grandma told her sister that, after the nurse had unplugged the machine and left us alone, that she was gone.

I could hear my second cousin break down too. He only got support from my mom, turns out he was disowned for being gay and my mom still treated him like a human being when nobody else would. It made me realize how much of a positive impact she was on the family, and we lost it.

My school offered therapy, which I accepted. My therapist was sweet, she brought me snacks and she reminded me a lot of my mom with her tone and attitude. She helped me realize it wasn’t my fault my mom died, because I completely blamed myself.

I know now that it was due to her drug abuse, that the needles she used caused the infection.

But I didn’t know fully at the time. So when I did, I figured it was my fault. I helped her inject medicine she wasn’t supposed to, helped her with her abuse.

My dad pulled me out of therapy because he said I didn’t need it.

And in that SAME MONTH, when he found out I was considering cutting myself, he said, “If you’re gunna cut, do it right.”

Father of the year anyone?

Fast forward to her funeral.

Open casket. The last time I ever saw my mom in person.

My uncle, my mother’s only brother, sang a song in her honor. He was 27, a musician, and already had a son. Unfortunately, he too was a drug abuser.

I don’t blame him or my mom for their abuse, they hardly had a good foundation. My grandmother didn’t raise them. She was a horrible, vindictive, and petty person. She ignored her children in favor of strange men. My mom had to raise her little baby brother, and my mom had to deal with a woman who burned her clothes, broke her rock cds, and slashed her tires. Because Jesus.

I grew more attached to my uncle after my mom passed, he was the only other positive influence in my life. He was an amazing artist, he was like my mom in a lot of ways. He called me Nikki Six and laughed at my shitty jokes, he cried to me when my grandmother berated and insulted him or treated him like crap.

We were open with each other. He wanted to join the military, be a role model for his one year old son, Aiden. I still have the video where he sang an original song, Thumb Sucking Blues, while my little cousin tried to play along with him :) He was a small little guy, but literally had his thumb in his mouth the whole time :P

Aiden LOVED his dad.

But because of his fiance’s drug use, he was taken from them. My mom was still alive when that happened, and we had supervised visitation with my cousin.

My uncle went to rehab to get clean, yet my grandmother continued to berate and degrade him.I supported him. I wanted him to be back home with US. My brother and I.

During this time...I got a phone call that terrified me.

My biological dad called me.

And I panicked; I didn’t KNOW him, he was NEVER in my life, and after a few months of talking and TRYING to get to know him, he vanished.

Turns out he’s been hiding for years to avoid paying child support.

But I wasn’t too hurt he abandoned me again. All we did was talk about anime we liked. I probably got my love of anime from him to be honest :P

My uncle eventually returned home, and all seemed great. He was a good father to his son, he got him back after his rehab (which I later found out it did fuck all for him because it was just another fucking church)

July 4th, 2012. I got a call from my grandmother because I was too tired to do fireworks that night.

Police had found my uncle’s body in an alley way.

He died of overdose, according to autopsy.

SIX MONTHS after losing one person who supported me, I lost the other.

He was cremated and my grandmother kept his ashes.

I was deist at the time, but I kept his bible, guitar picks, and the crappy religious coins he got from the “rehab.”

I have both my mom’s and my uncle’s bibles.

I..fell into a hard ass depression. I kept reliving the moment my mom died, the moment I heard about my uncle, I...saw his body after the autopsy. Of course, they covered it mostly, but it still hurt SO much to see him lifeless.

I graduated high school and immediately went to college, just trying to get through the shit. I just...didn’t care anymore. I lost the only two people that supported me. Both lights, my artistic inspirations, my TRUE FAMILY, gone.

My brother moved in with our grandmother, he was fed up with dad’s abuse. I..was too blind to see how abusive he was.

I took computer classes, he told me I should because it pays well. I personally found it fascinating on learning how to troubleshoot desktops, but programming was NOT my thing. I hated it.

I actually wanted to go into art, be an artist like my mom.

My dad?

“It’s not a REAL JOB.”

He shot down my passion for YEARS. I started college in 2014.

After nearly a year of computer classes, I was convinced to switch my major to education because I’m good with kids.

Because to my dad, good with kids = I want to be a teacher.

Kids just like me, I’m not sure why. My cousin loved me, and my cousin on my DAD’S side of the family loved me. I had patience and kindness to kids, they’re little beans that just need guidance. I don’t snap, I DEFINITELY don’t lay a HAND on a child as discipline.

So, I went into education like he said. I was just...a robot. Too scared to pursue what I wanted to do.

But there was a shining light; the Coalition club on my campus. A Gay/Straight alliance club! I ended up as their secretary, designed stickers, kept schedules, and I met SO many amazing people in that club. I felt welcomed, I felt SAFE, I could be OPEN about my gender with them, since I was too scared to say anything to my dad.

When he found out I was involved with the group, he got pissed. He’d constantly pick fights with me about how I’m focusing too much on the group and failing my classes.

Funny thing; I had As and Bs on ALL my courses.

Pretty sure that’s passing.

But..he kinda bred me to be unable to handle confrontation well. Whenever someone yells at me or talks in a strict tone, I start to cry.

So he’d always make me a sobbing mess nearly every day.

I locked myself in my room constantly.

I had to quit asking him to take me to HEB for me to buy groceries because I couldn’t STAND him. I was too scared to be alone with him for ANY reason. I felt like he’d find something to make me cry and ruin my day, so..I would walk to a corner store to buy easy mac, eggs, bacon, maybe some frozen pizza if I could afford it. Most of my meals were pasta-related, it was cheaper than most items. Corner store pricing and all that ^^;

I got a job in the work-study program as an AVID Tutor. Which helps students with their work from other classes. The students instantly clung to me, being the youngest teacher.

That job didn’t last long ;v; Apparently a button up shirt and a long black skirt wasn’t teacher apparel??? I wore dress pants too, I fit the “female gender role.” But I was fired for not dressing professionally.

I ended up working at a subway in a flea market, and everyone was SO SWEET! They were fine with my gender, and I was even defended by a rides worker when a customer complained about me using the restroom.

I was deadass exhausted though.

My dad forced me to do MAX college hours

While I also balanced a job.

The stress was KILLING me, but locking myself in my room where I could draw?

Being in a group that loved and accepted me?

It made life bearable.

But my dad eventually started getting after me about my job, that he DIDN’T consider a job because it was only on the weekends that it was open.

He started getting more aggressive with his fights. I would literally just WALK IN THE DOOR from work, exhausted because I have panic attacks (I had no idea I had panic disorder at the time), and he’d start fights about something.

Be it because I was atheist or that he was pissed I was STILL in college (He’s a college dropout so I just think “.________________________. boi.”)

A few months into 2016, I came out to my grandmother and my dad about being transgender.

My grandmother’s response? “You’re not transgender, you’re just fat!”

My dad? He didn’t really get it. He had to learn from his girlfriend because he sure as fuck didn’t listen to me when I explained it.

And he’d constantly ask about it, which didn’t bother me too much because I figured he was still confused.

Then he started to dead name me.

MY ENTIRE LIFE, I was ALWAYS referred to with a gender neutral nickname. NEVER my first because I never liked my name. I hated it. I used to be called Nikki, now I just go by Nick or Nicholas :) Cause I love that name.

HE.

In front of his LGBTQ+ friendly girlfriend.

referred to me with my FULL NAME.

And he did this TWICE.

I was too afraid to confront him, but his gf sure as fuck wasn’t. She was PISSED.

She put an end to that.

But things got worse after I sought out therapy to see if I qualified for HRT, Hormone Replacement Therapy.

And I did.

My dad only got more angry when he saw the letter from my therapist saying I had Gender Dysphoria and that he recommend I take HRT.

He would, from then on,, badger me about my clothes, claiming it’s what 12 year old boys wear.

Despite I paid the internet bill AND his cable bill, he’d get after me for unwinding by playing games.

He spent a fuck ton of money on a new mustang to tinker with to make a drag race car, but not a new air conditioning system for a 50+ year old house with no insulation. So while he was away, and the temperatures rose (It’s texas, it’s ALWAYS hot), I was sweating and trying to keep cool with ice packs and frozen towels. But none of THAT mattered, because I’m irresponsible for playing video games after all my work was completed.

I didn’t tell him I was starting a youtube channel in an attempt to bring in extra money, because I was only paid a little over 120 a week.

But he’s bitch about pretty much EVERY aspect of me.

But I kept quiet, kept food in my room because I was too scared to leave my safe space in fear of him insulting me further.

I literally asked for help on hiding food online.

After 2 more years of college, I got my associate’s in education and moved onto university for my bachelor’s.

I still didn’t want the major. But I didn’t really feel like I had a choice.

But this class I took, Child/Adolescent development, helped me realize how HORRIBLE and ABUSIVE my dad is.

I learned in that class about emotional and verbal abuse, and the effects it had on children and adults.

I began to stand up for myself, I’d argue back with my dad instead of letting him verbally abuse me with no repercussions.

Anything I said?

“Liberal Propaganda”

“Well, I put my religion first”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I thank my government teacher to this day for giving me the backbone I needed. She is a headstrong woman, refuses to be referred to as Miss, but prefers “Professor.” She had a PHD and she was passionate about her job and about human rights.

It became a much more hostile home after I started fighting back.

He would challenge my moral compass, “An atheist should have no problem lying.”

He’d pick on my gender identity and choice of fashion, “You’re trying too hard to be transgender.”

And anytime I went to houston to see my brother and cousin? My grandmother made it worse. She’d pick on my hair, call me a devil worshiper, insult my weight (This woman forced me to eat more when I was on a diet, but I never called her out on it), she was as bad as my dad to where my brother took me to the mall to avoid any further argument.

In late 2017, my dad tried to pick on me in front of his friend, Bobby. Bobby was a long-time family friend, I grew up with his kids. He knew me since I was a child.

And his friend was NOT impressed with my dad, and HE accepted my gender and even tried to explain what he was doing was being a dickhead.

He didn’t listen.

It went on like that until early 2018.

He called me out of my room and, once again, picked a fight with me because I’m part of an LGBTQ+ group, still in college, same bullshit.

But this time, he told me to pack up and leave, that I had two weeks to move.

I panicked.

I didn’t have the funds to move into an apartment with my current job.

I thought I was going to be homeless.

I called one of my friends in tears, and he asked his mother if I could take refuge there.

For a bit of context: I used to date him and I’ve met his family. His family had me over for the holidays, and kept me there for christmas eve and christmas day after I told my friend my dad BANNED me from celebrating the holidays with him because I’m an atheist.

And BOY was she PISSED. And his mom? Veteran Including his dad. BOTH are hard veterans that firmly believe in families sticking together.

So the kicking me out?

It REALLY blew their gaskets.

They told me to pack all I needed and that they’d be there in two weeks.

Later that week, my dad apologized and said it was cruel to do that, but...

I couldn’t stay.

I couldn’t do it anymore.

I was tired of living in FEAR, you shouldn’t be hiding food in your room to eat because you’re too scared to come out.

I told him I was leaving.

And what pissed me off? He tried to play VICTIM.

I moved out, and unfortunately had to quit my job because transportation issues. Ubers didn’t reach out this far and even if they did, it’d be like 30 bucks a trip.

With my wage? WHEEZE. Nope.

But a lady at the flea market gave me boxes and duct tape when I was packing to leave, just so I had places to put my stuff in. :)

I started counseling at A&M not too long after I moved into my new temporary home (I say as I’ve been here for nearly a YEAR ;-; and I feel bad but they’ve not kicked me out soooo....yay?)

And after a few session, my counselor told me to seek long term treatment, and she was helping me break free of my fear of asking for help and it’s thanks to her that I got to pursue the major of my dreams! I’m so thankful that I went to see her, because I went as SOON as I could to a medical clinic to talk to a psychiatrist.

I was diagnosed with PTSD, Bipolar disorder, and Panic disorder.

I was prescribed medication.

And little by little, I was getting better.

I had already had my Bendice tumblr for a while and the more I drew, the better I felt.

And the artist community?

It’s been AMAZING!

I’ve meet so many AMAZING people, from great friends to my art senpais. I’ve been getting better and better at honing my skills, and I feel like I really can be an animator someday.

Now, people are probably wondering why I dumped all this out.

Well...I know I’m not alone, but others might feel how I used to.

Isolated

So very Hurt

Alone

And miserable.

I don’t want pity, I don’t want “there there”, I want to show people that might be feeling alone that they aren’t. That someone suffered just like them.

Be it for being gay

Transgender

Depressed

An artist

No matter the “why,’ all pain here is equal.

It’s not insignificant.

YOU aren’t Insignificant.

All the pain and suffering we’ve all endured?

Is valid.

And we’re not pussies or wimps for feeling hurt.

And we’re not alone.

Thank you to those who read my entire shit storm ^^; I’ll admit I cried while writing this, but I feel good now!

I hope my words and my story inspire someone out there to take the steps they need to better themselves, to escape toxic environments.

Because that shit SUCKS.

#Personal shit #(OOC) 𝑂𝑓𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝐴𝑖𝑟 #tw negative thoughts #cw negativity #cw abuse #tw:death #tw drug abuse #tw suicide #LONG ASS POST #Sorry #Read at your own risk

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engl120blog-blog · 7 years ago

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Kalief Browder and the State of American Prisons

It is, by no means, news that the United States’ prison system is fundamentally broken in essentially every conceivable aspect. However, in almost every instance, issues in the current system are addressed with cold hard statistics and empty numbers on a page, creating a noticeable emotional disconnect between readers and victims of the prison system. We hear about death, injustice and cruelty by the numbers. The statistics tell us how many prisoners suffer from serious mental health issues, how many are beaten and abused daily, but the numbers don’t register in the hearts of many readers. Most people who see these statistics agree that something in our prison system is flawed, yet move on and simply shrug it off. They never fully grasp what these statistics are saying; how they affect human lives each and every day. There is a serious emotional depth present in the life of every individual tormented by the prison system that can’t be simply carved down to a few numbers on a page. The people affected by prisons aren’t statistics, they are human beings with deep emotional complexities and stories. This paper aims to argue against the current state of our country’s prison system, not only with these familiar statistics that have been published time and time again, but in an emotionally moving way that will hopefully trigger feelings of empathy, sorrow and a desire for a change in the system. In this piece, we will follow the life story of Kalief Browder, an innocent boy who was robbed of his will to live for a crime he did not commit by a prison system which fails to recognize the true definition of the word justice.

(Picture of Kalief Browder)

A source at Flavorwire says Browder was born May 25, 1993 in the Bronx, New York City, NY and was shortly moved into the care of Child Protective Services shortly after birth due to his biological mother’s drug habits, and was the youngest out of seven siblings. He soon became the fifth and final child of an adoptive family where he lived in a two-story house of bricks on Prospect Avenue near the Bronx Zoo. Although he moved out when Browder was ten, his father did, in fact continue to support the family financially.

Browder went on to attend the New Day Academy, where he told The New Yorker’s Jennifer Gonnerman he received mostly C’s on his reports yet was described by all of his teachers as a “fun guy” and a very bright young man. He enjoyed Pokémon, televised wrestling, sports and even occasionally visiting the nearby zoo.

Deion, his brother, described him as someone who had an immense passion for life and was always ready to talk for hours on end sharing his thoughts. One of his other brothers, Kamal would agree. He described Browder as determined and energetic and fun. Nicole described his endearingly “annoying” laugh as one of the most beautiful and memorable things about him. When they were very young, the two would play and often chase one another around the house. The young Browder found joy in playing basket ball with a brother of his, Raheem and throwing snowballs at cars with his friends David and Tyrone. The three of them would often play various sports and video games together “just like regular kids,” as stated in Time’s Netflix documentary.

(The Bronx Zoo, one of Kalief Browder’s favorite places as a child)

An academic article from the University of Miami Law School reports that early in the morning, May 15th, 2010 Browder and a friend of his were walking through the Bronx, making their way home from a party. The boy was only sixteen years old as he walked down Arthur Avenue in Little Italy. Out of nowhere a police car rushed towards them and quickly halted. It was followed shortly by more police units. An officer stepped out of the vehicle to inform the two boys that were now suspects in a recent robbery. Kalief responded with the truth: “I did not rob anyone,” he continues “you can check my pockets.” The officers proceeded to search but found absolutely nothing. After this, one officer made his way back to his squad car a reported to his fellow officers what was far from the truth. He told them that Kalief had just admitted to robbing the man “two weeks ago.” The two boys were then arrested right then and there. They were charged with grand larceny, robbery, as well as assault. Kaliefs bail was then set at $3,000.00, which his mother couldn’t even hope to raise. She could not free her son from a crime he did not commit. Kalief, still only sixteen ended up in a Correctional Department bus.

(Picture of Kalief Browder)

While waiting to see trial, Browder spent several whole years restricted against his will in a prison, two of which he spent in solitary confinement. During this time, he suffered endless and brutally constant beatings from both inmates and guards. Browder didn’t see trial. He never underwent a hearing; he never sat in a courtroom seeing evidence being presented in an effort to preserve his freedom. He never saw justice. While confined, Browder was isolated, with little to no human contact for two entire years. This is a cruel and unusual punishment that is incredibly damaging, psychologically and was not designed by mental health experts. He was made to accept his conditions despite the lack of opportunity given to him to testify, fight for his freedom and prove his very own innocence.

(A prison cell)

According to Safe Journals, most prisoners in solitary confinement are shackled, sometimes even put in a leash and escorted into their cell, where they remain restrained and are never in any presence with others, including therapists and psychiatrists. Prisoners in this situation don't see the sunlight except in some rare cases, when they are released into unimaginably small, cement-walled areas where they get quick glimpses of sunlight and terrain through small holes in the fences and walls that confine them if they're lucky. They are monitored, only through camera and intercom rather than direct contact with officers.

Prisoners are usually placed in supermax solitary confinement are not there for actions they have taken, but instead for what officers with no psychiatric training or knowledge have identified them to be; dangerous, disruptive, etc.

Now this is where mental health issues came into play. Browder had faced confrontation with the unthinkable, which alone is incredibly harmful to the human psyche. He faced jail time, solitary confinement, beatings and essentially torture towards his physical and mental self for a crime he never committed, a crime that he was not even aware of until accused. The shock of this sudden transition that seemed so unlikely and even surreal was maddening to Browder, as it would have been to anyone. When he was finally released, Browder reported that he was “afraid of being attacked on the subway” and that his television was “watching him.” He feared going outside of his own house because he worried for his safety and felt he would be attacked. He was no longer concerned for his future, he went through the days feeling hopeless and entirely empty, and eventually on the 6th of June, 2015 at mid-day Browder “went into another bedroom, pulled out the air conditioner, and pushed himself out through the hole in the wall, feet first, with a cord wrapped around his neck.”

The prison system which convicted him despite his innocence, broke Browder. It robbed him not only of justice, but of his will to live. And he wasn’t the only one. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, roughly 15% of men as well as 30% of women incarcerated have urgent mental health conditions. A noticeable majority of people in jails have never even been given the right to see trial, and almost all of the other individuals in prisons have been convicted of extremely minor crimes. In jails, people don’t receive any treatment that they require in order to heal, mentally. Instead, they are abused by a system that shamelessly prides itself on its ability to “break” people rather than help those that need it. Had any mental health professionals seen Browder while he was in prison, before he was sent to solitary confinement, he likely would have been diagnosed as a healthy young boy and given a lighter sentence accordingly. However, our prison system is one of a dystopic nature. It abuses and dehumanizes those who fall into its grasps, deteriorating them from the inside like the cold, beast of a creature that it is underneath it’s pretentious façade of a facility capable of bettering society and solving any real issues regarding crime.

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memyselfandmydepression-blog · 7 years ago

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Death, grief and depression

Yesterday, Chester Bennington, frontman of Linkin Park, was found dead in his home; suspected suicide.

No, he’s not the first celebrity to pass away in the last few years. Not the first musician. Artist. Performer. Singer.

But he’s one of those people, whose art I love and adore.

Yes, it’s always tragic. It’s horrible.

But like many people my age, I grew up with Linkin Park’s music. Hybrid Theory was the first CD my brother ever bought. I loved it! Then Meteora came out. Loved it as well. The lyrics, the music videos... So much I could relate to. And that’s probably true for a huge chunk of my generation.

Nonetheless, their newer albums I wasn’t so in love with. I wasn’t as obsessed with their more recent music. So, I didn’t expect the news to impact me all that much. Just another tragic death of a celebrity.

But it did. It hit me. Hard.

It made me think about all the times I’ve thought about taking my own life. Not by hanging, though. Never hanging. Too long and painful.

It made me happy that I haven’t done it. That I decided - against all odds - to keep fighting.

I was already in a depressive episode, heavily sprinkled with anxiety. Not a terrible one... Just one where I’m unmotivated and demoralised and struggle to do work. And I have to force myself out of bed and into daytime clothes and go to work and do my job.

But this news... Surprisingly, hit me so damn hard. It was all over my facebook newsfeed (I guess you really do surround yourself with people like you). I kept ignoring it, but it just kept popping up. Another one of my facebook friends has either shared the news, commented on it, or posted an LP song. And every single one commented on how much LP’s music has helped them through their life.

I was just starting to slowly crawl out of this depressive, anxiety-filled state when this happened... And it didn’t help me.

It made me think about other people who struggle with their mental health. And in particular musicians. Which made me think about Lindsey Stirling... And how I’ve been meaning to watch her film, Brave Enough. But I kept postponing it for a later time, cause I knew it was going to be heavy - I went to her concert earlier this year, where she talked about her struggles and how she had lost her best friend in the last couple of years, and how she lost her dad recently. But despite that, she kept fighting and being “brave enough” to feel again and to love, and to open herself up again. Because if you close yourself up for the bad things, then you close yourself up for the good things as well.

I literally just finished watching it.

And it made me realise... In the last few years, I’ve lost a few family members. And I haven’t gone to one funeral. My brain refuses to accept and believe that these people are no longer in my life. Since I was about 15 or 16, I’ve lost a schoolmate and an amazing teacher as well. Didn’t go to those funerals either. I just don’t cope well with death. Yes, I feel sad and... And that’s about it. I haven’t experienced grief. Real grief.

Or so I thought.

Grief, just like depression and anxiety, and any other mental monster, can hit you at the most unexpected of times.

Recently, I lost my nan. She was the only grandparent I had left. The two ones on my dad’s side passed away when I was less than 2, so I don’t remember them at all. My grandad on my mum’s side passed away when I was about 6 or 7, so I vaguely remember him. But my nan... She passed away when I was 20-something.

I remember reading a text from my dad, telling me the news. I kept staring at my phone, paralysed. Then it sank in. I was out with a fair amount of people at the time... I tried to be strong and not let anything show. But I needed to take some space first. I was good while we were all out.

Then we got back to my partner’s place. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I couldn’t be strong. I needed to let it out. I just started crying. Sobbing. I felt... This extreme sadness and grief that I’ll never see my nan again. I couldn’t even speak. Not because of the sobbing, I just felt like I was physically incapable of speaking. Not even simple words like “yes” and “no”. I had to type on my phone if I wanted to say something.

I was devastated. Crushed.

At the same time, I was quite happy that a few weeks prior I had decided to go back home for Easter and had asked my mum, dad and brother to go visit my nan.

Being in that small town always made me feel so... Peaceful. And happy. Content.

I haven’t been there since and I think I will always regret not going back home for the funeral, too.

I will occasionally get a dream with my nan. Or one where I’m back in that small town. In that apartment. I would always wake up from those dreams feeling sad.

...

But all of this made me realise that there’s been a lot of deaths in my life I haven’t dealt with at all. I haven’t even attempted to.

The year before that happened, the summer of 2014, I was doing a full-time internship before starting my permanent full-time job a few months later. One day I got a call from my brother. Reception was very poor where I worked (a tiny office in a tiny town near the seacoast). My brother never calls me during work. On my phone (instead of an app). So I panicked. My first thought was that something had happened with our parents.

I went to the small meeting room we had, where reception was slightly better, although still terrible. He asked me if I were sitting down. I found the closest chair. And completely froze up in panic.

He started telling me that our cousin (the son of my mum’s twin sister) had been working in the States this summer (something very common for people from Bulgaria). And he’d got hit by a car one night and he was in hospital. “Oh dear... He must be in a critical state...” - I thought. Then my brother went on, telling me that he’d passed away. My brain couldn’t process what I was being told.

I went back to work as if nothing happened. It was still on my mind, but it just wouldn’t get through to me.

The next day on my commute to work, it hit me. I started crying on the train, hidden behind my huge sunglasses. I then went to a shop near the station and bought some sweets to the office - a tradition we have back home (long story). I went in, telling my boss and my colleague what had happened (and explaining the tradition we had). My boss told me I could take the day off if I needed to. I didn’t. I stayed in and had a few sobs here and there, but I went on working.

Slowly and without me realising, it had seeped into my life. I was depressed. That was when I gave it a name - because I went to a therapist for the first time. I thought I was just grieving, but... No, it was more than that.

I kinda started dealing with it, but 4 sessions are nowhere near enough to deal with this. Still, it was a start. It helped me give a name to whatever was going on in my head. Somehow, that was a huge relief. It didn’t help with the depression and grief, but defining your problem(s) strangely helps to fight it/them. I guess because you know what you’re fighting against.

...

Fast forward to 2015, a few weeks after the anniversary of my cousin’s death and a few months after my nan’s. My uncle, who had been fighting cancer, had passed away. I was working on a code red situation at a warehouse in the middle of nowhere when I found out (via trusted ol’ Facebook ofc).

Same thing - couldn’t accept that I’d never see this amazing person ever again.

...

I’ve never fully dealt with any of these. Which is why the news about Chester hit me so hard. It wasn’t the news per se, but everything that had happened prior. The whole avalanche effect.

Yet more things I need to talk to a therapist about. If only I could afford it...

#chester bennington #rip chester #grief #me myself and my depression #memyselfandmydepression #depression #mental health #mental illness #anxiety #i am 1 in 4

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htptherapyjournal · 8 years ago

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When the Dr Hands Over a Stapled Information Packet-- on Trauma

It’s been a while since I’ve made a post. I have to say that I am now doing so much better than I was two years ago. I’ve gotten over my scumbag ex boyfriend and realize his behavior and methods of dealing with stress aren’t healthy and were emotionally abusive at times. He still continues to talk about how “crazy” I am while he is literally wasting away playing video games non-stop on prescribed amphetamines. I have heard he looks so thin that his hair is starting to fall out or thin. I almost had the urge to text and ask him if he was really okay or not. Looking back, I am mortified that I continued seeing him. That relationship really did teach me a lot about who I decide to emotionally invest in, how to address a conflict without hurting the person you care about, boundaries... everything. I guess this is what they mean when people come into your life for a reason. I spent a year being single and just dating. Just little dates. Now after six months I am dating a great guy I don’t need, but want around. He makes me feel sound when I am with him. Of course I told my new therapist everything that had been happening in my life. In addition to finding a healthy relationship, I also applied at a chain drug store for my Pharmacy Technician Certification and I think I have a good shot at the job. The same day I applied, my dad had his prostate removed and is now 100% cancer free according to the pathology report. We had also won a car and my new beau wanted me to meet his family. Most would consider the good news and steps forward as positive changes, right? It was definitely stress, but it was good stress. Right? That night, when I wanted to study further for my certification exam, I had the most tense drive to get rid of all the ingrown hairs on my body, make sure my face was blackhead/pimple free, and scratch out the dry skin (dandruff) around the areas that felt grainy or brittle. From 11:00pm to almost 6:00AM, I spent in my bed hunched over picking out each individual public hair with a pair of bloody tweezers and a safety pin to help dig out the ingrown hairs. My nose is still healing from trying to dig out the tiniest blackhead most would just treat with toner. I could have done my regular makeup routine, and even I would forget it’s there. I was so tense I couldn’t stop. I would take breaks, but it only lead me going back and forth to the same hunched position either over by the mirror or on the bed. The worst part was that I didn’t know why it had happened. I couldn’t pinpoint what triggered the event. I was shocked because it just happened and I hadn’t had an episode this extreme in such a long time. It was definitely not like the mini episodes that I usually encounter usually when I’m tired driving home or watching TV. So I brought it up to my new therapist (who is amazing, btw). She asked me how I feel when the episodes take place. I couldn’t tell her. I remember not feeling anything. Like, if you looked down my throat, you would find me daydreaming at the bottom of my torso. It felt like my body being flown by the rookie copilot while the pilot took the biggest shit of his life. Sure, the copilot passed with flying colors, but that straight face doesn’t stop his palms from sweating. Even thinking now, that’s not entirely the correct emotion either. When I experienced the episode or a episode, it starts off as anxiety, but it goes away so quickly. Something shocking happens and I shut down temporarily. Kind of like when I put the computer to sleep instead of shutting it down or when my eyes get fixated on staring at a particular object or direction. All of me is still there, my mind just goes into a blank meditative state. My therapist then asked me if I could remember any other times where I experienced feeling numb/blank. Boy, could I list so many events, and I did. But I remember the first time I ever shut down. I told her events that happened to me in my old neighborhood from when I was in preschool up until 1st grade. My parents are hardworking people. They did everything in their power to make sure I had what I needed while still moving forward for a better life. This also meant leaving me in the care of others while she went to work, school, or both, usually early in the morning. My dad was also a truck driver who drove across the country. He’s been to every state at least twice (except Alaska Hawaii), so sometimes he would be gone for a couple of months at a time. During the summer I mostly stayed at my grandparents house. I consider them my second parents. I’m not upset about being passed around. I had fun by myself and with my grandparents and other family members.

That’s the funny thing about ‘trauma.’ Hearing the word makes me and probably most think about physical abuse, rape and sexual assault, assault in any form, witnessing tragic events, and especially those who have come back from war. But what about experiencing endangerment, neglect, and abuse from the caregiver chosen by the parent? What if the caregiver allows their or other children (the victims peers) to cause distress to the target/victim? I have constant flashbacks of being teased, tortured, and exposed to content that should be talked about with a parent or explained by a fifth grade teacher via the most awkward video you will ever watch with your class. When my mother would drop me off to the neighbors house early in the morning, she would let me watch tv downstairs by myself while she went back up to bed and didn’t come back down until she was ready to leave. In between that time, her two children would come down and at first it started as her son (who was my age) teasing me which evolved into constant bullying, that turned into stealing and isolation. There was nothing I could do. I called for help so often, the mother eventually told me to, “stop being such a tattle-tale.” Well, it eventually got to the point where her youngest child didn’t understand that her older brother didn’t really hate me as much as she thought he did. She took matters into her own hands (literally) and chased me around the room with a yellow baseball bat until she cornered me between a wall and a fake potted plant. The daughter looked genuinely furious. Her eyes were so wide and her teeth where clenched together. I knew right then that this wasn’t bullying anymore; she ACTUALLY wanted to hurt me. I was pretty much in the potted plant when her brother screamed, “NOOOO!DON’T!” right as she brought the bat down and hit me. Before the big event, I was five or six when I had cried to my parents about the bullying while eating breakfast before being dropped off at their house. I told my parents I couldn’t do it anymore and cried about how miserable I was, but it didn’t matter. The neighbors I got dropped off to in the morning were my parents only way of getting me to school while they worked. The last thing I remember about that day was the son giving me a big hug and holding me as I cried as his mom yelled at his sister and tried to figure out what was going on in her house. I realized what was happening to me was not okay or my fault, but there was nothing I could do about it and that’s when I shut down. My therapist verified that what happened to me in my old neighborhood was traumatic. She said were I used to live and who used to care for me was not a safe place or safe people. It also made a lot of sense when she suggested that how I cope with stress and how I interact with others comes from how I learned to cope with stress and interact with others as a child in my old neighborhood. It kinda shocked me when she actually handed me a packet to read for our next visit. She advised that I begin practicing grounding techniques when I experience anxiety. I get to work on dealing with what happened to me once and for all and correct the way I handle stress. I can’t wait to tackle it. <3

#anxiety #depression #ADHD #Therapy #Mental Health #Childhood Trauma #Trauma #Compulsions #OCD #generalized anxiety disorder #long ass post #grounding techniques #journal writing #psychology #psychiatrist #talk therapy #my progress #crazy #self improvement

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