#my dad is on a camping trip rn and asked my mom to bring his teddy bear with her when she joins him tomorrow

[ash-etherwood]

if anyone put up security cameras at my house and saw how everyone including my parents in their late fifties/early sixties cuddle and gently kiss and babytalk to our plushies even when were completely alone they would uhhh i forgot where i was going with this sentence

[ohgodsalazarwhy]

So yesterday was... A Day.  I talked about it on twitter but not here.  I woke up at 5AM on Friday and as I was getting out of bed Natasha was there to greet me.  She rubbed up under my feet, being sweet.

Then we walked down the hallway together.  At 5am it’s still a bit dark in the house, and Natasha starts to hiss at me.  Not uncommon to be hissed at by her, so I ignore it.  Then at the end of the hallway, she’s a bit ahead of me, she turns and yowls.  I freeze.  That’s a danger sound.  I don’t know why she’s turning on me but I try to slowly back away towards the bedroom.  She’s had these weird moods in the past, but never attacked me... though I’ve been afraid of it.

This time I take one shuffle back and she lunges at me in a blind fury.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, she’s screaming and attacking and I’m kicking out trying to get her off my bare legs.  I then dart down and manage to pin her to the floor with two hands but now we’re at a stand off.  If I attempt to relax my grip she screams louder and makes a move towards me.

So here I am, 5AM, bare legs bleeding and with a crazy cat under my hands in the middle of the hallway.  Absolutely nothing to grab like a big blanket or a stick or something to get distance between us until I can get to the bedroom.  I’m next to the craft room door and my legs are starting to shake and I realize I don’t have a choice, if I kneel down she’ll go for my face.  So I take one hand off her to open the door.

Natasha scratches my wrist and palm, then twists and sinks her teeth into my right pointer finger.  Deep.  It happens in second and then I’m shoving her into the craft room and shutting the door.  I’m breathing hard, shaking... I wander vaguely into the living room, try to turn on my floor lamp but I’m shaking too much.  I give up and walk into the kitchen to deposit the medications I’d taken out of my bedroom.

I can feel blood dripping from my finger as I walk back to the bathroom and finally look at my wounds in the light.  The scratches are up and down both legs, I’ve got massive scratches on my left wrist... and the bite on my finger is bleeding everywhere.  I run it under cold water but start to feel sick and am forced to go back to bed before I pass out or throw up.  I’m covered in cold sweat.

I breathe through it, getting blood on my sheets and pillow.  Natasha is meowing loudly in the room next door.  I breathe through the feeling of illness and shock and get back into the bedroom to clean the wounds and get antibiotic ointment on them.  I put bandaids on the bite wound, bottom teeth sank into the side of my finger under the second knuckle while the upper teeth had sunk into the top of the finger above the second knuckle.

I spend the next several hours in and out of bed as the sickness washes over me when I do too much.  But I clean the blood off the floor, and Natasha had emptied her bowels in the hallway so I clean that too.  When I go to the door and speak softly to her she hisses and yowls, so I leave her in there.  I don’t understand why this is happening, this is completely out of character for her.

My parents show up around 9am, and I’ve moved to the couch to lay there.  We’re supposed to go 8 hours south for a family camping trip.  And I’ve REALLY been looking forward to it.  I had all my stuff in the hallway ready to go.  But my parents are very concerned about the bite, and mom says I need to go to urgent care.  The more I talk and move around the sicker I feel.  I’ve bled through the bandaids.  Mom wraps my finger in gauze.  Before I leave the house I open the door to the craft room and quickly exit, I don’t want Natasha trapped in one room for hours.

Dad drives my car and he’s driving... aggressively.  That doesn’t help how I feel, which I think makes him even more nervous about me.  The first urgent care we visit is closed.  The second has a 4 hour wait for walk-ins.  So we finally just go to the ER.  I’m able to find a soft bench to lay down on while we wait... probably at least an hour.  While we’re waiting dad is informing family members what’s going on.  My Aunt, who is an RN, is glad we went to the ER.  My little sister tells her friend what happens to me, her friend loves cats and works with feral cats.

Dad comes over and tells me that Amber’s friend offered to take Natasha while I recover and I nearly tear up and say I’d love that.  I haven’t cried once, but my throat closes up when I think about what happens next with Natasha.  I love her so much, but the damage she did can’t be repeated. 

We get into the ER around 10am, but we don’t get out until 2:30pm.  We were supposed to be on the road by now.

I got a tetanus shot, xray, and my bite cleaned and bandaged as well as an antibiotic prescription.  Horse pills twice a day for 10 days.  Dad drives me to the pharmacy closest to my house.  Across the street is a booth selling Spooners blueberries (Spooners is a famous local farm, renowned for their berries).  Dad says he’s going to zip across the street for blueberries while I fill my prescription.

I come out after filling to see him across the street with the hood of my car up and he’s on the phone.  Goddammit.... I get my pills and text him, asking what’s going on.  The battery, the BRAND NEW BATTERY, has died unexpectedly.  I sigh and walk to the other side of the street to join him.  The sweet person at the stand has called their dad and told him what had happened, and Dad had called my little sister.  We wait around in the sun to see who will show up first.  Sure, this might as well happen today too.  I’m fucking exhausted.  I just want to lay down.  I sit in the backseat because blueberries are in the front seat that my dad is snacking on.  He says they’re the best, and Spooners doesn’t spray them.  I have no appetite or I might snack too.

The Spooners employee’s dad arrives first, and he jumps my car.  We thank him very much but he says it’s not a problem. I call my sister and tell her to meet us at my house, no problem she states.  Finally we’re home, and I cross the street where mom has been with the dogs this entire time, walking them around the neighborhood and staying in the trailer attached to the truck.  The dogs are very happy to see me and I’m happy to see them too.

My pointer finger is splinted and bandaged up and Leela sniffs at it and I have to be careful she doesn’t lick it.  We move across the street into my lawn as Amber and her partner show up.  They’ve brought gloves so they can help my Dad catch Natasha and put her in the carrier.  I sit outside with mom and the dogs while they go in.  Natasha pees on my couch during the ensuing chase because she’s afraid, but they catch her and bring her outside in the carrier.  I’m just glad she’s okay, I’ve felt very guilty about kicking out at her when she attacked me.

Natasha is scared as we set her in the grass in the shade of the fence.  I sit down next to her carrier and she curls up as close to me as she can get.  I want to unzip the top just a little to reach in and comfort her but I’m still a little scared she’ll turn on me.  So then we all wait together in the front lawn for Amber’s friend to arrive, Leela desperately trying to belly crawl her way towards the carrier.  When she finally does Natasha hisses and spooks her so bad she tries to hide under my sister’s legs.  Rotties can be such cowards sometimes.

Amber’s friend arrives with a van and I thank her profusely, but she doesn’t mind doing this at all.  She says Natasha is going to be well taken care of, she even has falconer gloves with which to handle aggressive cats.  I tell her Natasha is normally not aggressive, just very scared.  But to watch out for the yowling, that’s the danger sign.

Natasha is set gently in the backseat and the door is shut, the air conditioning turned on.  We exchange numbers, I thank her again, I can’t thank her enough.  With Natasha taken care of my family goes to a nearby burger joint for food while I stay behind to watch the dogs.  I just want to lay down.  Amber buys me a burger with a gluten free bun.  My appetite is non existent but I know I need to eat.

When they come back my mom and dad leave while Amber and her partner linger to talk.  Her partner loves to talk, he talks all the time.  It used to drive me crazy but I don’t mind anymore, he’s a good person.  I’d had the urine cleaned up and before Amber leaves she puts my couch cushion back.  I give her a stack of books I think she’ll like about abandoned places and ossuaries.  I’m finally left alone. 

No camping trip this weekend, it’d simply be too much.  I don’t think anyone in my family is making it.  My brother and his wife had to back out, Amber and her partner had to back out because of his asthma and the air quality down south.  Mom and Dad would be driving a long way for a short stay, and I know I won’t feel up for such a taxing weekend after the Friday I’ve had.

Amazing how quickly everything can go horribly wrong.

[crispy-chan]

Okay so friday has been… really shitty

I’m sorry for my sorta meltdown (although tbh it was only like two posts) but still. Who knew getting dumped would hurt so much.

It wasn’t even done meanly. Although for me personally, it was literally the worst day it could happen because we were having a school movie marathon sleepover thingy and he was going there. I was this close to staying home but it was either that or cross-examinations from my parents so I went.

I avoided him throughout the entire night like the plague. But it still hurt so fucking much. Every time I even passed him, I had to drop my gaze down to the ground cause I thought I’d fucking burst into tears.

I knew the reason he did it was because of how my fear/anxiety of relationships was kinda getting in the way. But I tried, I tried so fucking hard and the worst thing is that I genuinely thought it was getting better. Day by day, I felt like I was slowly taking the right steps and that everything would fall into rhythm. But I guess I though wrong. We were standing in the fucking rain, I was shivering cause all I had was a thin t-shirt that was completely soaked through and i know it’s bad for me to think this but he kind of just sprung it on me. Gently, but it felt like being pitied, friendzoned and dumped at the same time. Not a great combination.

He said he wanted us to go back to being good friends — exactly the thing I told him I was scared wouldn’t work out back when he first asked me out — but I can’t even look at him properly without wanting to burst into tears.

Everything reminds me of him. Everything. My blog is somewhat low key filled with things that reference his actions, things that happened between us etc. I think thought of him while writing most of my stories. I actually thought about deactivating cause all of this just hurts so much but I think I would regret it later on…

Both his younger siblings where there at the sleepover thing at school and I don’t think either of them knew. They remind me of him too. Especially when his sister would hug me and ask me if I’m okay while wearing his hoodie. His scent used it be so comforting but now I just want to cry.

Every time I looked at him I’d remember all the awkward firsts that we’d shared. I’m thinking about all the things I could’ve / should’ve done that could have possibly prevented this. I’m filled with so much regret that it hurts. All the what ifs are eating away at my thoughts. I thought I had already hit rock bottom before but this is honestly a new low even for me.

All the things I’d usually do don’t help. I can’t even think about writing rn, I feel like romance is in a way dead to me… I’m honestly afraid that this’ll traumatize me and I’ll actually become the lonely cat mom I always joked about being. He literally told me that he thought that he could pull me out of the cat mom mindset but it seems like he just pushed me towards it.

It didn’t fucking help that as he was telling me all this, he had his jacket over his head, his hair was soaked and it was peeking from under the jacket. I honestly wanted to weep bcs this was the most adorable he had ever looked…

It’s eight thirty in the morning (not anymore) rn and the only thing I’ve eaten since lunch at one thirty (which was like 20 minutes before he told me) is a cheesecake that my dad made me order and a small muffin I was offered. I just lost my appetite completely. I don’t know what to do

As I said, all the things I used to do to cope feel ineffective. I don’t even feel like listening to stray kids which is a fucking first for me. I don’t want to watch or read anything. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to write. I don’t want to read or study. Edit: I listened to ex a few times and cried. Can’t bring myself to listen to the usual comfort songs like neverending story and cause I like you’d once they’re about love…

We’re going on a 10 day camping trip with our school in a few days. I was excited the entire year. Now I just want to back out (but I can’t). He’s going to be there. I’ll have to see him everyday, interact with him and pretend like everything is normal.

But all I can think about is how my hand felt in his. I feel like a fucking basket case and my mom is constantly trying to get me to tell her but I don’t want to. I just want to cry, that’s all.

I know everyone says that time heals everything. I hope it’s true for the sake of my own sanity. I hope it’ll heal me too. I wish I could transform all of these emotions into something productive, I really do. Like studying, preparing for the stupid German certificate examinations. So much to do but I don’t want to do any of it.

I really hope I didn’t hurt him too much though. He was patient for a really long time so him breaking things off means that he must’ve been really unhappy about how things were going. I just wish he didn’t tell me all the things he did, how he didn’t mind wait for a year or so if that’s what it took. It hits different after hearing these promises. I just hope we can both move on from this and perhaps, one day, in the far future, we could be friends again… but now I can’t even bear look at him…

I have to get him a present to say for his bday. I really don’t feel like it, though. I wish I could just stay home and bury my head under the pillows bcs I’m still heartbroken. We texted a few times exchanging awkward apologies and somewhat empty promises of staying there for each other but it still hurts. I’m thinking back to when he would try to convince me to sit in his lap. I’m a certified helpless romantic yet I never did it — I was too shy, bashful. And now, it’s all I can think about. I can almost feel it, how comforting his embrace would be. He always gave such good hugs…

I friend recommend me to write him a letter for his bday. I’m seriously thinking about it cause perhaps it would allow me to finally let go of all these feelings and I could feel a bit better. At the same time, I’m afraid of overstepping or making him uncomfortable. Idk if I’d want to receive a letter from someone three days after breaking up with them - doesn’t sound too fun if you ask me…

And now, now I’ll just try my best to go on with life ig. I’ll try to talk to some new people on the trip, maybe I’ll manage to focus on school and some hobbies of mine. Not sure if I’ll manage, but I’ll try. It’ll be weird not talking to him like I used to — I really liked the days we would stroll around the park and talk about everything and anything that came to our minds. It felt like a small escape from this shitty world, honestly, and now it’s gone with the wind. I know it’ll be hard to find someone as caring as him. Not to mention the fact that I take ages to get close with people. On a different note, it feels like my somewhat childhood fantasy of being with someone I was good friends with — who knows me well for so long — is crumbling in front of my eyes. But honestly, what hurts the most is the regret. It feels like my longs are constricted and I forgot how to breathe properly. I just don’t know at this point. I don’t know what to do…