#my intrusive thoughts made me weigh myself

[minni-bunni]

I've gained weight ⊙︿⊙ someone take all my food away from me...

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 24

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 10/11/2023

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Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk. Chapter Warning: Heavy themes in this chapter. That is all I will say so as not to ruin anything. Feel free to reach out for more details before reading.

Chapter Quote: "Why? Are you afraid you might actually feel something?

In the days that followed Gabby’s visit, I couldn’t shake off her obvious concern for her brother’s wellbeing, or the details of what he had been up to. Before our conversation, I was doing well to keep my thoughts about him at bay. But now, images of his darkened eyes and broken appearance would creep in when I was least expecting it. Knowing he was unwilling to engage with Gabby and Alex was the biggest red flag of them all. It made me question whether he was doing okay. Knowing that the answer was most likely a “no”, weighed heavily on me. Even so, it felt like none of it mattered anymore. There was nothing I could do to change his behavior or help him. If there was one thing he had made clear during our unexpected encounter, it was that he did not care about my thoughts or feelings any longer.

The constant pressure of these new intrusive thoughts caused me to further throw myself into my work. It was one of the few things that I could control in my life. Working overtime nearly every day was starting to wear me out, but it was exactly what I needed to stay distracted at all times. I reasoned that if I decided to take a new position, everything had to be in order. Therefore, I poured myself in making sure there would be detailed instructions for whoever would be taking over my duties. 

It was 6 PM and I was two hours into preparing a detailed account audit report when I heard the downstairs door open, followed by Lauren yelling to announce herself. I called back to let her know I was in my office, where she appeared a little later holding two coffees from our favorite local spot. Without a word, she walked in and set one down on the desk beside my laptop. I glanced up at her, surprised by her unexpected visit, and by the fact she came bearing gifts in the form of sugar and caffeine.

“Thanks for not scaring this shit out of me this time,” I said with a smile as I reached for the coveted beverage and took a sip. She laughed nervously. I eyed her, picking up on her weird vibes.

“Alright, what’s going on?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair.

“Nothing is going on… per se.”

“If this is about that infamous stray cat...” I trailed off as I raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“What ca… oooh no. No, the cat is a non-issue. He’s been good the last few days.” A wide grin spread across her face.

“One of these days, I do hope you’ll clarify what you’re talking about in reference to that cat…because I’m pretty sure it’s not an actual cat.”

I had a sneaking suspicion that she was seeing someone, I just didn’t know who. It was probably someone I didn’t know, and I figured she was keeping it to herself for now given that my relationship with Dieter had just ended. While I would be excited for her to have met someone, I knew she would feel bad about being in a happy relationship. Even though she had no reason to feel that way. That was Lauren logic 101.

Lauren chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought of a reply, finally responding with, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you; it was a stray. He’s just hanging out until I figure out what to do with him.”

Her intense inspection of her fingernails as she spoke was a dead giveaway though. Clearly, she didn’t want to look at me directly, afraid that she just might give something away. I rolled my eyes at her and shrugged. She quickly changed the subject.

“So, as you know, next week is our birthday week…” She paused as she gave me a mischievous smile, letting the anticipation build up.

Given that our birthdays were four days apart, she had always used it as an excuse to celebrate for the full week rather than the usual one day a year.

“Yeah, what of it?” I eyed her dubiously.

I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood for any of her crazy plans this year. Two years ago, she conned me into doing indoor skydiving as a way to loosen up and have fun, which resulted in me getting a busted lip. I vowed to never let her drag me into anything like that again. Last year I managed to avoid the epic week of celebration due to the whole divorce fiasco, but apparently, she was not going to give me that courtesy this year. 

“I found a place that’s having a karaoke team competition next weekend. It’s 90’s themed, so it’s right up our alley.”

She gave me a hopeful, yet nervous smile as she awaited my response.

I couldn’t help but scoff at her as I gave her a skeptical look. “You want me to do karaoke? We haven’t done that since college.”

“Exactly! We haven’t, and we used to have so much fun. We also kicked ass at it. I think we could totally win.”

The excitement was visible on her face as she spoke.

“Fucking hell. You said it’s a team though. How many on a team?” I asked, hoping there might be a way out of this.

“We only need three people for three rounds. Kerrie already said she’s in.”

“Kerrie? Of course she did...” I dropped my head, laughing in defeat. I knew she wasn’t going to let this go. 

“So, what would we win? I wanna know what I’m about to sell my soul for.” I took a drink of my coffee as I continued to weigh my options on how to get out of this predicament.

“There are a few choices, but the one I am shooting for is the spa day. It’s the most expensive package too!”

“Here’s a thought… how about we skip the karaoke and go straight for the spa day. I’ll pay for it. My treat!” I suggested hopefully, but she shook her head, looking like a petulant child with crossed arms and a scowl on her face. 

“No. A spa birthday isn’t fun…it’s relaxing. We can do that later. I want some actual fun for our birthdays. It’s been way too long, and we can all use it.”

I gave her a skeptical look, “We have two very different definitions of fun.” I chuckled as she rolled her eyes at me.

“Come on. It’s just one song…five minutes or less of your life that will give us wonderful memories for years to come.” Her hopeful smile had returned.

“Exactly, that’s my concern”. I sighed, figuring that I’d better choose my battles wisely. “Ok, fine. No breakup songs for me though. I refuse.”

She squealed as she clapped her hands together and bounced up and down in the seat. She then proceeded to start throwing out song ideas, starting with her favorite Shania Twain song.

“Look, if we’re gonna do this, don’t be picking stuff that everybody else is gonna pick. I guarantee everyone and their mother will sing that damn Man, I Feel Like a Woman song.”

She pouted, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Fine, I’ll come up with an epic playlist for us. Don’t worry.” 

I scoffed as I finished my coffee, shaking my head at her, “Please. All I do is worry when it comes to your scheming plans.”

She gave me a disapproving glare as she raised her hand to flip me off, which caused me to laugh.

The next week flew by in a blur. Kerrie had been excitedly talking about our girl’s night out all week, in the process recruiting Elizabeth and Aubrey to join us as our official hype squad. It was turning into a whole thing at this point. Lauren was taking it to the extreme, which didn’t come as a surprise. She had sent a text to let me know that she had wardrobe plans for us all. She was always so extra.

When Saturday afternoon hit, Lauren came rushing upstairs in a flurry with arms full of bags. Kerrie arrived soon after as Lauren was digging through my closet in search of items she knew were hidden in there somewhere. I let her do her thing as I wrapped up my work and chatted with Kerrie. Once Lauren found what she was looking for, she started laying out our assigned outfits in stacks on the bed. As I watched her, I realized that I had never felt less excited about something as I did right now. After she had everything sorted, she instructed us to get dressed.

There was definitely some serious 90’s nostalgia going on with the clothes she had picked out for us. My outfit consisted of black ripped skinny jeans, combined with stacked heel lace up boots like the pair I used to own, and a white ribbed tank. To top it off, she had grabbed my black leather jacket and a bright purple skinny scarf. Even the accessories were accounted for: a black leather wrap bracelet and black leather cuff, giving the perfect finish to my look. I was also given explicit instructions to wear my hair down in loose waves.

She put Kerrie in a black spaghetti strap midi dress with combat boots, lots of bracelets, a choker necklace, and deep wine-colored leather jacket. Kerrie was instructed to wear her hair down to rock some tight messy curls. Lauren dressed herself in a dark blue mesh floral high-waisted midi skirt with a white crop top, a light blue cardigan, black choker necklace, and black Mary Janes. She wore her hair down and straight.

I stood looking at the two of them as they added the last of their accessories, shaking my head. 

“I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. Why are we doing this again?”

“Because it’s gonna be fun,” Lauren assured me as she moved to touch up her makeup. “Relax, you’ll be fine. You sing well, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Once again, I was second guessing my decision to go along with this. I felt ridiculous. The other two, however, were more than excited to make up for my lack of enthusiasm.

We took an Uber to the bar where this whole shindig was supposed to go down. The place was huge and packed to the brim with people, which only amped up my anxiety further. At least we were not the only ones who had embraced the 90’s theme; everywhere you looked, people were sporting nostalgic outfits and accessories, which made us blend in easily.

We found Aubrey and Elizabeth inside, seated at a large table near the front of the stage. Lauren’s co-workers from her shop, Nicole and Stephanie, also joined us soon after our arrival, making our table a more sizable party than I had been expecting. We sat chatting amongst ourselves as a server came around to take our drink orders, I promptly ordered a whiskey, which seemed to catch Lauren’s attention.

“What are you doing?” she asked immediately, her tone laced with concern.

“If you want me to do this shit, I’m gonna need at least two of those…maybe three. I’m fine. It’s to relax, not to drown in my sorrows... Not yet, anyway.”  She gave me a doubtful look, but let it go. I was finishing off my first round when the karaoke host took center stage, hyping up the crowd for the first-round category of 90’s classic Pop Songs. A girl from Team One, a couple of tables down, was the first to hop on stage and opened with Man, I Feel Like a Woman.

I glanced over at Lauren, “What did I tell you?”

She rolled her eyes at me. A girl from Team Two was introduced as performing the same song. Her excitement seemed slightly deflated now that someone else had already performed her song. I looked over at Lauren again. Before I could even raise an eyebrow, she shook her head and flipped me the bird. She hated it when I was right.  

Lauren was up next. She had chosen to sing Christina Aguilera’s What a Girl Wants, which was a solid choice for her. She sounded great, definitely better than the other two. With her buzz kicking in, she wasn’t afraid to work the crowd and throw in some dance moves. Our whole group cheered her on while Kerrie recorded everything on her phone. I think it was safe to say that she absolutely won that round.

The category for round two was rock. Team One started it off with a very drunk gentleman giving Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit a go. It was terrible and he didn’t even bother to try and get the lyrics right.

During his performance, I leaned over to Lauren, “Pray tell what category you have me singing in please?” Her eyes got a little wider before she said, “What? You want another drink you say? I’ll go get that for you!”

She disappeared toward the bar while I glanced over at Kerrie in confusion. She shrugged. “Do you know what you’re singing?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I picked it myself. She didn’t tell you what she picked for you?” she yelled over the music.

I shook my head from side to side, “Do you know?”

It was her turn to shake her head as Team Two got started on their song. They busted out Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californication. The guy killed it and was going to be hard to beat. Lauren came back just as he was midway through the song and handed me another whiskey, then immediately went to the other end of the table to talk to one of the girls she works with. She was avoiding me. Fuck. That didn’t bode well for me. 

When it was Kerrie’s turn, she didn’t seem concerned at all. In fact, she was cool as a cucumber and psyched up as she made her way to the stage. Lauren came back over to stand next to me and hooked her arm with mine as she started recording on her phone with her other hand. Neither of us had ever heard Kerrie sing, so we didn’t know what to expect. 

The host announced Kerrie would be singing Meredith Brooks, Bitch. Our whole table started whooping and whistling as the music started. As soon as she opened her mouth, we all absolutely lost our shit. She sounded amazing and had the rocker chick vibes down.

Lauren looked over at me, “We are totally fucking winning this!” as she started dancing along to the music and yelling, “Yaaaaas bitch” toward the stage. Kerrie worked the stage and the crowd like no one else had. On the "I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a goddess on my knees” line she did a seductive roll and wiggle of her hips that sent the place into a frenzy. Once she was finished, she did a dramatic bow before exiting the stage and running over to our table.

As Kerrie approached us, she announced, “I guess this would be a good time to tell you guys that I was in a rock band in college.”

We all started laughing and scolding her for holding that information back. It certainly would have taken some stress off Lauren to know that.

I was taken out of the celebratory spirit when the host announced the category for round three. I could feel my stomach drop when he said “90’s Love Songs.” My head snapped toward Lauren who froze as she was raising a glass to her lips.

“Love songs? Are you fucking kidding me?” The frustration was clear on my face.

She lowered her glass and set it on the table, “Hey, you just said no breakup songs. It’s not a breakup song. Also, your voice is amazing, and you’ll be going last which means it’ll be the freshest on their minds. I do not regret my decision.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I do. This is not a good idea.” I said, shaking my head.

“Why? Are you afraid you might actually feel something?” She raised an eyebrow at me, daring me to say the truth.     

I drew my brows down together at her words. I didn’t know how to respond. I let out a loud huff and walked away toward the bar, immediately ordering another whiskey. I sat staring at the swirls in the wood grain as I listened to a decent rendition of K-Ci & JoJo’s All My Life play behind me. I could feel my heart racing as I downed the whiskey and asked for another. Halfway through Bon Jovi’s Always, I got up and made my way back toward the front.

Everyone at the table stared at me in silence. Lauren looked like she was stuck between feelings of anger and fear of what was about to happen. I finished off my latest glass and took my jacket off as the current song ended. I still didn’t even know which song she had picked for me to sing, which was probably a good thing. Having time to dwell on it wouldn’t help.

The host called me up. As I was walking, he announced the song, Shania Twain's, You’ve Got a Way. Looks like she still got her fucking Shania Twain song in. I let out a slow breath, followed by a low “fuck” as I took the microphone from the guy. He gave me a questioning look and I returned it with a tight smile. I was feeling a little unsteady on my feet by this point, so I walked over to grab a stool that was sitting to the side of the stage, brought it out to the middle, and took a seat. I nodded at the DJ, who cued up the music. The words appeared on a TV screen that hung on the front of the upstairs balcony, but I didn’t need them. I knew this one.

(If you would like to give the song a listen while you read, it is linked below... Fic continues after the jump.)

I focused on the back wall at first, attempting to let autopilot mode kick in, but it wasn’t happening. I didn’t make it far before the memories of Dieter started to flash through my mind. It started on the first verse, but the chorus is what hit me the hardest. Each time I repeated it, I was hit with a new memory. I was left feeling raw and exposed as the song went on. 

It's in the way you want me

Dieter standing in the doorway between our suites, admitting he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing me… running his hands along my collarbone as we watched that stupid zombie movie… standing in front of me in the kitchen, running his hands up my thighs. 

It's in the way you hold me

Dieter holding me in his arms every night as we slept…always grabbing my hand tightly to ease my anxiety… swaying slowly with his arms around me as we danced in Sonoma.  

The way you show me just what love's made of

Dieter always being positive and supportive of everything I did… doing all the things that Justin never would… planning the perfect weekend away in Sonoma and trusting me with his past so that he could move on from it. 

It's in the way we make love

Our intense emotional connection during our last night together in New York…our first night back together after the club… our intimate nights together in Sonoma.

I could feel the energy shift in the room around me. The tension was palpable as the emotion started to crack my voice a little bit. I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes and it was taking everything in me to hold them back.

Oh, how I adore you, Like no one before you, I love you just the way you are.

That line finally broke me. A tear slowly slid down my cheek as I realized I would never feel that way about anyone again. I would never be able to let him go. I kept my eyes focused on the wall in the back of the room, trying to keep the sobs from escaping my lips as I finished up the last repeat of the chorus.

Once the song came to an end, it was completely silent in the room for a time. Then applause slowly broke out. I quickly wiped at my face before exiting the stage and walking directly over to the bar, ordering another drink. I sat with my face in my hands as the bartender slid another round in front of me. I could hear the host behind me giving instructions to the crowd about how to vote online. I tried to drown it out as I stared at the wood grain on the bar again.

Out of my periphery, I could see Lauren take a few tentative steps toward me. I looked up at her, unsure if I was pissed or not. She reached up and put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, I honestly wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you.”

“What the hell kind of reaction did you expect?” I turned my body to face her, the frustration clear on my face. I was angry at her, but at the same time I knew that my struggle wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t trying to get me upset intentionally.

“I dunno, I just thought it might make you reconsider things. I wasn’t expecting tears.”  She gave me a pouty look, “I’m sorry. I should have consulted with you about it.” 

I let out a slow breath, “Don’t worry about it. I guess that part is on me.”

She gave me a weak smile, “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house after that.”   

I gave her a tight-lipped smile as I raised my glass for another drink, finishing it off quickly, “I think I’m gonna head home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I decided. I was feeling agitated from all the noise and just wanted to be at home where it was considerably quieter.

“You mean you’re not gonna stay for the results?” She looked disappointed, but I needed to get away and clear my head before I went into a full spiral again.

I knitted my brows together as I shook my head from side to side. She pulled me in for a tight hug, “Shoot me a text and let me know how it goes, yeah?” She gave me a small nod as she pulled away. I followed her back over to our table to grab my jacket and phone. I waved bye to everyone before heading outside and getting an uber.

The memories came rushing in during my ride home. I couldn’t stop them no matter how hard I tried. I managed to keep it together until I walked into the house. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I leaned against it and slid down to the floor. The tears came flooding out between sobs as I mourned the loss of what we had and the possibilities of what we could have had. It was something that I hadn’t fully allowed myself to do.  

I sat crying for some time before I heard my phone vibrate on the floor beside me. I wiped my face as I tried to catch my breath. I reached for my phone and found a text from Lauren.

LAUREN: We totally kicked ass. Let me know when you’re ready for that spa day we earned!

ME: Excited to hear that. I’m ready when you are!

My response conveyed more excitement than I felt. I couldn’t have cared less at that moment. I sighed as I pulled myself up off the floor and moved to get ready for bed. I still felt slightly buzzed after laying down, but somehow managed to fall asleep soon after.

I woke up around 6 AM the next morning, feeling like death. I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some warm water over my face. My eyes looked slightly swollen from crying, so I held a warm rag against them for a few minutes, which seemed to help some. I decided to go for a run, just to have a mindless task to keep me busy. I got dressed in my workout gear, pulled my messy hair back into a ponytail, and walked outside. It was a little chilly and I noticed everything was still covered in light morning dew as I put my air pods in and started my playlist. I took off in a jog in the opposite direction of Dieter’s house, toward the more populated area of town. The streets were still mostly empty at this hour on a Sunday morning. Many of the businesses either weren’t open yet or were closed for the day. It was an eerie calm that somehow filled me with a dreaded sense of foreboding.

As I was trying to push that feeling to the back of my mind, I rounded the corner of one of the local businesses and crashed into someone. I stumbled backwards slightly and looked down in time to see one of my air pods falling from my ear. Somehow, I managed to catch it as I regained my footing, swaying for a moment as my head still reeled from last night’s drinks. I was apologizing for my clumsiness before I even had a chance to see who I had bumped into, trying to catch my breath. “Fuck, sorry, I –”, I blurted out, looking up to see who I had crashed into. I was met by two dark eyes staring back at me in confusion. It was the same eyes that had been on my mind last night during karaoke. Dieter.

His eyes were watery and bloodshot, but surprisingly alert for the early hour. He stared at me blankly for a moment before he knitted his brows together, the set of his jaw tensing as he looked me up and down. He didn’t move or speak, but I could tell his breathing seemed to become shallower the longer he stood there, reminding me of how he looked after the first time I woke him from his nightmare on my couch. I couldn’t bear to see him like this.

I could feel my face tighten as we both held each other’s gaze. Something deep in the pit of my stomach stirred, opening up and threatening to swallow me whole. I could feel my entire body tense as my emotions threatened to spill out. The memories flashed through my mind; everything from last night, the conversation with Gabby, our encounter at the restaurant, the way he had sounded on the phone that night when he ended things, and a whole slew of moments from the time we had spent together before everything fell apart. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t unbridle my emotions and fall apart here in front of him. With effort I tore my gaze away from him and took a deep breath, digging my nails into the palm of the hand which held my air pod. The pain helped me snap out of my thoughts long enough to decide on my next move. Before I lost my nerve, I put the air pod back in my ear, stepped around him, and continued jogging at my previous pace. I was almost certain I could feel his eyes on my back until I was finally out of sight.

I cut my run short and headed back in the direction of my house, trying to shake off the numb feeling that was starting to overtake me. What the hell was he doing out this early? Where had he been? Or where was he going? I slowed to a brisk walk as I turned onto my street, thinking through the businesses that were near where I had bumped into him. There was a 24-hour convenience store nearby. Maybe he was going there?

My phone buzzed with a text from Lauren, which surprised me considering her late-night activities - it was barely 8 AM. The screen lit up with her message when I unlocked the phone.

LAUREN: Call me as soon as you’re up, please.

That didn’t sound good. As if I needed something else to worry about right now. I sighed as I punched in the lock code to my front door. Once I was inside, I called her.

“Hello?” She sounded nervous.   

“What’s up?” I asked as I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my sleeve before grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

“Ummmm, I’m going to assume you haven’t seen any of the gossip sites today, have you?”

I sighed as I sat down at the kitchen table, switching to speaker phone so I had my hands free to open the bottle. I had a feeling I already knew where this was going.

“No, do I even need to ask why?”

Lauren was silent for a minute, “There are videos from last night. Like, a lot of fucking videos.”

I wished I could say that I was surprised, but I really wasn’t. I suddenly felt a wave of nausea run through me. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I leaned my head into one of my hands as I let out a long breath, “I actually thought we were past all that shit.”

I heard Lauren suck air between her teeth before she spoke, “Well, they’re making a big deal out of you being emotional. They’re reading between the lines and running with it.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking gone last night. I can’t believe I let you talk me into it.”

I could hear Lauren shuffling around on her end. “You know what, it needed to happen,” she then said matter of factly.

I pulled my hand away from my face, feeling a little stunned at her tone. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’ve been giving off the impression that you’re fine and have moved on when you haven’t. I know you haven’t. I can tell you're still hurting, even if you won’t admit it to yourself. He needs to see that. He needs to know what he did to you.” She paused briefly. “If this is a way for that to happen, then so be it.”

For the first time ever, Lauren had literally stunned me into silence.

I scoffed, “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Good. Don’t say anything because I don’t want to hear any more excuses. You need to get your head out of your ass and stop avoiding everything,” she said in a rush.

I could hear her take a deep breath before she continued in an oddly pleasant tone, “Now, I have things to do. I’m gonna let you go. I’ll text you later.”

I couldn’t help but to chuckle at her abrupt change in attitude, “Oook, I look forward to your text.”

“Ok. Good. Bye.”

She hung up without giving me the chance to say goodbye. That was just as bizarre as the cat thing. What the hell has gotten into that girl?

I sat staring at the wall, my right hand tapping on my left shoulder, thinking through what she said. Had he seen those videos? Is that why he was looking at me like that? I couldn’t tell if he was upset, mad, or high on something. Was I the asshole for not even trying to talk to him? Why would I, after the way he talked to me last time? I had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings running through my mind, I didn’t know how to process it all.

What I did know is that I couldn’t keep running into him like that. It was too much and wasn’t going to help with the healing process. I know Lauren would say I was avoiding the issue, but I needed to be away from him. Somehow, I needed to start over. For the first time since Carrington had offered me the new position, I was leaning toward an answer. Silicon Valley was beginning to feel less like an opportunity, and more like the escape I desperately needed.

My phone buzzed on the table, breaking me away from my thoughts. It was a text from Kerrie.

KERRIE: Just so you know, videos from last night are literally everywhere.

I sighed. A second text from her came through with a link to a TMZ article. I opened it, noting the time stamp was late last night, with several updates added since. I hit play on one of the many videos of me singing. I almost didn’t recognize myself. The look on my face was clearly that of someone fighting off emotions. I didn’t look or sound bad, but it was hard to watch without it evoking some type of sad emotion - without it bringing up everything that I had been feeling last night and just now when I had run into Dieter. I stopped it before it got to the end and closed the browser window. The last thing I needed right now was to relive that minor breakdown.

There was another video, taken from a distance, of me drinking at the bar before I went up on stage, and another of me at the bar right after when I had been trying to compose myself. The article that accompanied the videos was all pure speculation, suggesting that I was upset about being jilted by one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. I mean, it wasn’t wrong, but they couldn’t possibly know that for sure. I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone back down on the table. On top of everything that was going on, the burden of not being able to go anywhere without being recorded and photographed was suffocating me. It would be one thing if Dieter and I were still together, but we were not. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let it go already. Yet another reason to go somewhere else for a fresh start. There’s no way I could possibly be happy here under these conditions.

Trying to keep the anxiety at bay, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, then got up to make a quick breakfast. Afterwards, I showered and settled in for a day of work in my home office. I still had a lot of prep work to do and loose ends to tie up if I was going to accept that job. The hours seemed to melt into each other as they flew by, and before I knew it, the sun was setting as darkness filled the room. Once my laptop was the only source of light, I finally got up to turn on a couple of lamps. As I was about to sit back down at my desk, my phone lit up with an incoming call.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw the name that appeared on the screen. Guy from the Bar. I still hadn’t changed it from what he had entered into my contacts all those months ago. Unable to move at first, I stared at my phone, debating whether to answer the call, until something in my gut told me I needed to.

I could feel every muscle in my body tense as I hit the answer button. “Dieter?” 

A deep sigh sounded on the other end of the line before he spoke. “I… I’m surprised you answered.”

His voice sounded rough; the words slurred, throwing the cadence off. He spoke too slow, too laced with whatever he was intoxicated with. I could feel a lump forming in my throat as I listened to him. It took everything I had to control my emotions.

“I assumed you wouldn’t call if you didn’t have a reason.” My legs suddenly felt weak as I sat down at the desk, clutching the phone in my hand.

“I just wanted to…I’m sorry... I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want it to stop.” He spoke quickly, his words jumbling together as his voice shook. I could hear a quiet whimper coming from him as his words trailed off.

The nauseous feeling from earlier came back with a vengeance. I felt sick to my stomach, and I could feel a tightness forming in my chest. He didn’t sound right. Something was wrong. Very wrong. “What are you talking about? You want what to stop?”

“The thoughts… feelings.” His breath hitched, then he continued. “It’s just too much. I’ve fucked it all up. All of it. It’s all…” He was quieter now, his voice sounding strained, the words still slurred in a blur of what sounded like tears. Panic began to rise in my chest.

“Where are you? Are you at home?” I stood up, moving to my bedroom to quickly pull on some clothes instead of the pajamas I was wearing. It stayed quiet on the other end of the line. He wasn’t answering me, but I could still hear him breathing.

“Dieter, answer me. Are you at home?” I asked again, trying to not let the panic overflow into my voice. He mumbled something that sounded like there could have been a yes in there somewhere. Then there was a thud, it sounded like he dropped the phone. I could hear a quiet groan in the background, then nothing else but silence. I yelled his name several times, internally begging for him to answer me, but I got no response.

I slid on some sandals and grabbed my keys as I rushed downstairs to the garage, dialing Gabby as I got into my car. When she picked up the phone after a few rings, I didn’t even give her a chance to finish her greeting before I spoke.

“Gabby, something’s wrong. Meet me at Dieter’s house. Do you have a key?”

“Yes, I’m on my way. What happened?” I could hear rustling in the background and the jingle of her keys. She quickly yelled at her husband that something was wrong with Dieter, and she had to leave, followed by the sound of a door slamming before he could respond to her.

“I don’t know. He called me and wasn’t making any sense, then stopped responding… I think he passed out. I’ll see you there in a few,” I said as I pulled out of my driveway. I ended the call before she could reply, realizing that my hands were shaking, and that I needed all my focus to drive over to Dieter’s place.

I was at his house within minutes. Once I parked, I ran to the front door and knocked, then banged on the door when I didn’t get a response right away. The lights were on, but there was no movement inside the house. I tried the doorknob, surprised when I realized it was unlocked. For a moment I hesitated, afraid of what I would find, then pushed the door all the way open and went inside.

As I stepped into the entryway, I was met with an eerie silence. I called out to Dieter, but there was no response. I could feel my breathing going shallow as I walked toward the living room, bracing myself for several possible scenarios. The space was littered with empty and broken liquor bottles, shards covering every surface. The bright orange color of prescription bottles scattered all over the coffee table immediately caught my attention. The place wasn’t just a mess, it was absolutely wrecked. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears as I took in the sights, still not seeing Dieter. I couldn’t find my voice to say anything, so I just walked further into the living room, desperately hoping to find him.

I nearly slid on the floor as I realized I had stepped into something wet. I followed the trail of spilled liquid, then spotted Dieter lying on the floor behind the couch. His phone was next to him in a puddle of spilled tequila. The mostly empty glass bottle laid near the phone.

My breathing stopped when I saw how pale he looked, and I rushed over to him, mentally shoving down the barrage of emotions that threatened to cloud my mind. None of that mattered.  All I cared about was making sure he would be okay. “D? Dieter, I’m here. Can you hear me?” I dropped to my knees next to him and pressed my hands against his face, tilted his head to try to gauge whether he was responsive. He was cold and clammy, not at all like the usual body heat he would radiate. Once again, I forced myself to stay calm and called his name a few more times, shaking him gently to see if that would stir him. “Please don’t do this. Wake up. Dieter, stay with me.” His eyes opened slightly, unfocused and looking vacantly up to the ceiling, then closed again. His breathing remained irregular, barely audible. It was a terrifying sight, seeing him immobile and unresponsive like this.

With effort I managed to turn him onto his side, knowing that was the safest position for him in case he needed to vomit - the last thing we needed was for him to choke on it. “Dieter. Dieter, you have to wake up,” I tried again, slipping my index and middle finger just to the side of his Adam’s apple to check his pulse. It was weak but still present, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Before I could do anything else, I heard someone barge into the house, and I recognized Gabby’s voice calling her brother’s name and mine.

“Over here!”, I yelled, and a few seconds later she stumbled into the living room, freezing in her spot when she saw us on the floor. “No. Dieter!”, she cried, tears in her eyes as stared at her unconscious brother.

“Gabby, listen. Take a breath,” I rushed to tell her before she could do anything else. “He’s got a pulse, but we need to get him to a hospital. I think he has alcohol poisoning.” 

Her breathing had started to turn into short, stuttered breaths, and I could see her unravel as she started hyperventilating, eyes fixed on Dieter. “He…”

“Gabby? Gabby,” I kept my voice calm but stern as I called her until her eyes landed on me, and I gave her a reassuring nod. “You need to focus, I can’t do this by myself. Take a breath.” She shook her head as she pulled herself together, her hands trembling as she reached for her phone. “I’ll call 911,” she said, dialing the number. “They…-”

“No, it’ll take too long for them to get here,” I interrupted her, knowing we did not have the luxury of time considering the state he was in. “We need to take him now, ok? Go pull your car up to the front and get back in here, we’ll get him there.”

She left and I tried to wake Dieter again, cradling his body against mine, but he remained unresponsive. Looking around, I remembered the pills on the table. I could see the lids were popped off some of them, but they still looked mostly full. Aside from them and the many shattered bottles of alcohol, there didn’t seem to be any other substances laying around. At least that was a relief.

When Gabby came back into the room, I instructed her to grab the prescription bottles just in case he had taken them. It would be helpful to the doctors to know what was potentially in his system. She threw them in her purse before running over to us, helping me get him off the floor.

With sheer force and adrenaline, we were able to lift him - each of us with one of his arms wrapped around our necks as we steadied him around his middle, carefully getting him out to Gabby’s car as fast as we possibly could. “Dieter, your sister’s here. We’ve got you; we’re taking you the hospital,” I said to him, knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to respond. I wanted him to know we were here and that we were getting him help.

Gabby helped me hoist him into the back seat of her car. I climbed in, making sure that he could safely lay across my lap while remaining on his side. When we got him situated, she closed the door and rushed over to the driver’s seat, hopping in as she set a straight course for the highway while calling her other brother.

Hearing Alex’s voice over the Bluetooth seemed to steady her for a moment, and she immediately filled him in on what was going on. “Where do we take him? What’s the nearest hospital?”

Alex said her name, gently urging her to calm down. “What are his symptoms?”

“Uneven breathing, clammy, weak pulse, unresponsive,” I answered instead of her. “Only opened his eyes for a second. I found him in a puddle of tequila, and he may have taken some prescription drugs.”

“Got it. You need to get him to the ER right away. USC Verdugo is probably closest”, Alex suggested, reassuring Gabby that he knew several of the doctors. “I’ll call ahead and let them know you’re coming in. I’ll meet you there soon.”

Once we got off the phone with Alex, it was strangely quiet in the car for a few minutes as we both tried to gather our thoughts. I could hear Gabby taking deep breaths before she spoke up, her breathing starting to stutter slightly, “How bad is alcohol poisoning?”

I met her glistening eyes in the rearview mirror, my heart aching for her. “It can be bad,” I said honestly, trying to keep my voice calm. I hated being blunt during a moment of crisis, but there was no way I was going to beat around the bush. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I lightly ran my fingers through Dieter’s hair, touching his face every now and then to check if he was becoming more responsive - but that wasn’t the case. At this point, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it together.

It probably took us about fifteen minutes to get to the ER, but it felt much longer as I watched his condition worsen. His breathing was becoming so irregular that I was afraid I would have to try and do CPR in the car. As soon as we pulled up in front of the ER entrance, the vehicle was swarmed with hospital staff, pulling Dieter out of the car and onto a gurney. Several nurses immediately assessed his condition while one placed a medical resuscitator bag over his nose and mouth, then they wheeled him inside, leaving us behind.

As Gabby and I went through the sliding doors, we were joined by Alex and Lauren who had been waiting in the lobby. For a moment it struck me as odd that Lauren was there, but I couldn’t exactly process any thoughts regarding that. Down the hallway, we saw Dieter getting wheeled to the rear doors that led him further into the ER. That was the final straw that broke me, along with the knowledge that I didn’t need to be strong for him anymore. It was finally safe for me to fall apart. The lightheadedness from earlier returned with a new intensity. I gasped for air as I sank down to the floor, starting to sob uncontrollably. All the fears and emotions so tightly packed into my chest came pouring out at last. My vision was blurred momentarily by a rush of tears, then blackness sank in around the edges, slowly pulling me under. A/N: Y'all ready to stone me to death? Is it better or worse than you thought it was going to be? 🥴

No, he doesn't die. Happy ending, remember? This is the start of his recovery. It's going to be a long and rough road for both of them...but it is slowly uphill from here. How about that song? I felt like it summed up Talia'a feelings pretty well and was a solid choice. I listened to that shit on repeat while I wrote this chapter. Pretty sure my sanity is in question at this point. We now have confirmation about the cat. A lot of you were right, it is indeed Alex. Are we excited about that or no? Let me know how you're feeling after reading this. Do we need a support group meeting? 👀😬 I am currently working on the next chapter. It's going slow, so I don't have an ETA on it yet. I want to make sure I get the next few parts right as they cover some very tough topics. I'll let you know when I'm getting close to finishing though. Lastly, a quick thank you to @for-a-longlongtime for doing all the beta work and suffering through it with me. It's better and more heart wrenching thanks to her. 🤭 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below. Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @pedrostories

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

[kreinvulon]

hey. i wanted to make this post for a while and honestly was afraid of putting this out there, but i felt i should share the reasons for my inactivity recently. this isn’t me quitting tumblr or leaving anything - please don’t take it as such. i’m aware i’m not responsible for people’s feelings, and that i don’t owe anyone work or activity, and that i should focus on myself… but, i still want people to know what’s up, especially those i’ve met through communities like gore’s - one which i’m still a part of, and one that has deeply helped me.

content warnings below for mental health and pet loss, sort of. should anyone see this, i hope you’ll take it kindly. if not, then i’ll just keep talking into the void.

i’ll start off with good news - as you all know, i got into college. i’m happy there, and i’m doing well in regards to assignments. i’ve got incredible feedback, and my teacher acknowledges that i have a very thorough understanding of design. it’s never felt more freeing to study something i’m genuinely passionate about and wish to pursue a career in, but i’m unsure if that will last much longer. i’m studying full-time, and while it’s only four days a week - two of which i am only in for 3 hours - it puts a massive amount of pressure on me mentally and socially.

onto the bad news. my dog was diagnosed with cancer a month ago - it’s lymphoma, and it’s an advanced stage. none of us how long he has left, and it strikes fear in me daily that he may be gone soon. i have horrible nightmares some nights about losing him, intrusive thoughts as well, and that too weighs heavily on my mental state.

the amount of work we have to do in college, combined with the time i need - i mean that seriously - to decompress afterwards overtakes my time to work on personal and commissioned projects. i have spent over 6 weeks working gradually on one commission only, and despite the communication i’ve given, and understanding i have so sweetly received, i feel so terribly guilty about it. people are trusting me with their hard-earned money, and i take so long that it feels unprofessional. i still aim to keep these going, given i have that target of buying a pc ideally by the end of this year or the start of 2025, but updates will have to be made to things, so that i don’t collapse under the pressure - in which i have already done several times over the course of this last month or so. i have not even had much time to talk with online friends or mutuals.

i thought i was genuinely getting better, over the three months i spent out of education following the completion of my GCSE exams. i got wonderful results and reaped the rewards in spite of how crushing the school system is. what’s happening now is me being reminded of that. i have been mocked by people i thought were friends for having different challenges to them, for completing school at home, and have had multiple dehumanising comments made about me by the same people who refuse to stop, no matter how many times they have been shut down by either myself, or members of staff. my mental health is possibly at the lowest point it has been since i was 13 or 14.

life is tiring. it hurts to say this, and i need to seek help, but i feel i can’t. i am not in a place where i can seek private support for things such as autism, which friends, my family, and i heavily suspect i have. with the state of things in the uk, i feel trapped and unable to get what i need, especially in regards to being trans.

if i can spare the time, i will continue to share what i am working on. i should note that me and leliana ( @/lastdb ) have been brewing up something wonderful that i’m sure lots of you will love - some of you may have already seen small progress shots of it on discord. i am on the final step before i release this artwork, and possibly the most challenging.

but, for now — don’t forget me! i promise i’m still here, just quiet, and needing to heal from a lot that’s broken me down. if you’ve read through to this point ( and i don’t expect many will ), then thank you. a lot. i’m still happy to make conversation. don’t be afraid to say hi, i won’t bite.

[hiddenhearthwitch]

do u have any tips/advice on how to identify and separate intrusive thoughts vs anxiety vs coincidence vs ‘this a fucking sign from the gods PAY ATTENTION’ cause tbh i feel so alone and def fuckng insane :)

First of all sugs, you're not alone. 💚 I definitely struggle with intrusive thoughts and it can be a terrible struggle between a "sign" and "wow you're in a park of course you saw a bird". You're not insane, there's just a lot in the world and even inside yourself for one human brain to process. I'm going to try to break this up into intrusive thoughts + anxiety then into coincidence + signs because it feels easier to lay out that way. We'll talk magical and mundane ways to work through this. I'm sending you good vibes babes. 🤍✨

I constantly have to remind myself that thoughts are not facts and I shouldn’t believe everything I think.

Sometimes when I have an intrusive thought I visualize myself as this dope ass paladin and I literally fight my thoughts away? I just close my eyes and meditate and focus on being the strong person I want to be and slay my own dragons. Sometimes that’s too hard and I just picture All Might because he’s Best Dad, if you have a favorite character I would give it a shot.

Aromatherapy bracelets and necklaces can be super helpful as well. Medicinally speaking lavender, chamomile, and opium would be the most mentally easing. Magically speaking pine, oak, lavender, valerian root, and hawthorn are all great for stability/protection in my experience. 

I personally carry around a sachet of onyx, rose quartz, lavender, pine, and oak.

You can minimize the damage of intrusive thoughts with self-help. This includes being mindful in the wake of an intrusive thought. Don’t waste your time obsessing over why you had that thought or what it all means. I’ve noticed once I learned to get past asking, “why am I thinking this?” all the time they don’t weigh as heavily on me. You are not your thoughts.

Intrusive thoughts are kind of just like a really loud boombox to me. Usually, if I listen to music I can really get into I can quiet down the thoughts. For the past four months or so Nujabes has been amazing musician to turn too. This past month Modal Soul has been the album that helps the most. It usually takes me a full album to feel normal again and I feel albums give me more stability than a playlist but honestly do what’s best for you.

Compulsive behavior can manifest when you try to change who you are based on the intrusive thoughts you experience. Changing who you are and your reality because of a thought that isn’t necessarily rational is the worst way to go about it. Stop trying to change who you are so you can adjust to your thoughts. Try to think about yourself in a third person perspective, “what would (insert name here) do in this situation?” This might not work for everyone but it’s helped me out once I started noticing the patterns.

From a magical perspective I’ve noticed moonstone is the stone that helps me the most. However most of my intrusive thoughts are PTSD related and I feel like moonstone helps me because it’s also stabilizing and can help prevent dissociation. I do also really enjoy onyx, tigers eye, and rose quartz as well!

Learn to recognize the starting signs for your intrusive thoughts. When my intrusive thoughts begin, they usually start off pretty simple. It’s one thought that feeds into a bigger insecurity or fear. Once you can spot the first thought you can start fighting it.

On the focus of coincidence versus a sign:

If I'm unsure if it's a sign I ask myself why I'm looking for a sign or if my gods made it clear to me to look out for one. Am I in a turning point in my life? Do I know I need guidance? Did previous divination point towards a sign coming my way?

Sometimes coincidence is the sign. If you're trying to decide if you want a purple or green wedding fit and you're driving down the road and see a shit ton of purple cars. I would call that a sign. If it's something you're actively thinking about and then it's glaringly in your face - I read that as a sign.

I've personally asked my gods to send me a sign three times if they're trying to tell me something. So that way I know.

I also take into account where I am. For example: I tend to read falcons and hawks as a sign or general greeting from Freyja. I live five miles from a national park though - hawks are every where, if I'm looking I can pretty much always find one or two on the way to or from work. Not really a sign if it's just local ecosystem at play.

That being said - they can still be signs. It's one thing if a bird of pray is just sitting on a lamp post. It's another to see it sitting on my car or catching a snake right outside my window. Common things aren't always signs - it can just be the mundane. That's when it's important to think about how it appeared and how it made you feel. Intuition is a powerful tool.

Ask yourself how you're feeling. I know this is probably a typical response but I know I personally read into everything when I'm anxious. I will catastrophize. Anything and everything becomes a sign of impending doom, fear of failure, etc. It's important to be aware of your inner dialogue and feelings when looking for signs.

If divination is a strong suit for you, consider using your divination tools as a way to verify if something was or was not a sign.

This is 100% personal belief but if a deity comes to me in a dream I will always read it as a sign. My dreams with gods are far and few between but relationships with them run very deep.

I'm not sure if any of this really helped or made sense but I hope it did. Good luck on your endeavors friend. 💐

[valtsv]

I've been sitting on whether or not to say anything or not, I hate to be intrusive. (for ease of access i will be spacing out what i want to say, so i apologize in advance if it appears lengthy; It's also not necessary to publish this if you'd rather not, but for your peace of mind, I thought maybe I'd weigh in. I do apologize if this is unwarranted.

I did want to say that one of the most frustrating experiences, is that there are constantly going to be people who are intent on (if not outright Devoted to) deliberately misunderstanding you. Regardless of how much clarity you provide on statements you've made.

You portray yourself as kind, compassionate, and even handed. You're even patient when others cross your boundaries.

Others should bear in mind that your friendliness and patience are not invitations for blatant disrespect, invasive questioning or mistreatment. Popularity aside you are a person, with very real feelings.

In my personal experience, as someone who has been in online spaces since early 2000's, those taking issue with you on bad faith right out the gate tend to be much older than the people they harass. It's rarely your peers, And truthfully I wouldn't dignify them with a response unless you feel it absolutely necessary.

You don't have to explain yourself constantly to people who are looking for reasons to pick you apart and dislike you. You have nothing to prove to them. You're fine as you are.

i agree, and thank you for this! it really helps to hear and reminds me that it's important to prioritize myself and my personal comfort and mental health when it comes to answering messages from strangers online. but i do also want to say that i genuinely answer most of the asks i do (even the ones accusing me of things i don't agree with or tolerate) because i want to explain myself and clarify my intentions and thought processes. i honestly like discussing things and getting into detail sometimes. i don't intend to let myself get held hostage by anyone, and if people continue to see me in the worst light even after i've clarified my position i try not to dignify them with my time. i even block them if they're especially persistent and/or unpleasant. but this is a really nice and thoughtful message and i'm grateful for the support, thank you ^_^

[wizzard890]

what got you so into the french revolution?

When I was in school for medieval art history, I did a lot of work on saints and their martyrdoms, particularly how the viewers of art depicting suffering imagined suffering, and how the agony/eroticism of those feelings induced a sort of memetic spiritual euphoria. Which means that I spent a ton of time looking at images of executions. I've seen them all: beheadings and sexymen shot full of arrows, saints barbecued or flayed or eaten by wild animals, criminals broken on the wheel -- all the classics. Or at least, I thought I had, until I encountered this triptych in my senior year of college:

This, by Belgian artist Antoine Wiertz, is The Visions of a Guillotined Head, painted in the late 1840s. Wiertz was a symbolist, and spent a great portion of his career drawn to the macabre, never more notably than on the occasion that inspired this painting.

In February 1848, two notable French criminals were due to be executed by the state. The guillotine was of course still in use as a method of capital punishment (and would be until the 1970s), and Wiertz was curious as to what a so-swiftly severed head felt and saw. He wasn't the first; since the guillotine's invention there had been legends of heads that blinked and blushed and tried to speak after separation. Luckily, Wiertz had a friend who was a hypnotist (as you do). Timed to the moment of the execution, he had his hypnotist pal put his soul "into rapport" with the dead criminal, and claimed that he entered the head itself as it fell.

He later recalled his experiences at some length in writing, but since we're talking about me, here is the important passage, dictated as he "felt" the horror of execution:

A horrible buzzing noise, the sound of the blade descending. The victim believes that he has been struck by lightning, not the axe. Astonishingly, the head lies under the scaffold and yet still believes it is above, still believes itself to be part of the body, and still waits for the blow that will cut it off. Horrible choking! No way to breathe. The asphyxia is appalling. It comes from an inhuman, supernatural hand, weighing down like a mountain on the head and neck. A cloud of fire passes before his eyes. Everything is red and glitters.

Now comes the moment when the executed man thinks he is stretching his cramped, trembling hands towards the dying head. It is the same instinct that drives us to press a hand against a gaping wound. And it occurs with the dreadful intention of setting the head back on the trunk, to preserve a little blood, a little life.

This fucked me up so bad.

I am well aware that consciousness after having your spinal cord severed is a done deal. I was aware of this in college. But there was something about this artist's act of imaginative empathy that compelled me, for the first time, to think about the guillotine in particular. About the mechanical wait, not being pushed off a drop or axed while kneeling, about being slid through on a board, of seeing the basket beneath you, already full of heads. Maybe even heads you know.

I imagined it so hard that I made myself sick and couldn't go to class for two days.

The reason I studied what I studied wasn't because I was ghoulish. In fact, I'm a little squeamish. It was because in the experience of pain, we are all deeply individualized, but entirely, helplessly human.

I laid in bed and thought about the small number of humans who I, an educated layman, knew had been guillotined: Marie Antoinette, obviously; Louis XVI; and (in what felt like black historical irony, given what I knew of his day job) Maximilian Robespierre.

It felt intrusive to have intimately imagined their last, most private moments, without really having any idea about them at all. Better to start at the end and work backwards, I thought. So I started reading.

Robespierre, decapitated by guillotine when he was thirty-six. That's the manner of death. How did he meet his death? In terrible pain, I learned. Why? Because he'd had half his jaw blown off the night before. Jesus, why? Because he'd (maybe probably) shot himself. Why?

It turns out, if you keep doing that, a piece at a time, for years, you can learn a lot about someone's life. And, relatedly, in long and branching paths, you can find your way into every nook and cranny of what burned through France at the end of the 18th century.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi! Can I please request Namo x reader for kinktober with the size kink please? Maybe reader is either an elf or Maia and Namo is bigger than them, and reader loves how big he feels when they're having sex? Thank you!

Well hello! As for Mr. Doomsman being generously proportioned... Why not?

"Made for me"

Pairing: Námo x Fem. reader (elf/second person POV) | Location: Halls of Mandos

Themes: Smut (Lemon)

Warnings: Size kink | Dirty talk | Explicit language | Kissing | Penentrative sex | Rough sex | Cream pie

Word count: 1k words

Summary: Námo is never content with one round or act of love making.

Rating 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

It was a rare thing to be asked to be a companion for one of the Ainur. And rarer still, for that Ainu to be none other than the Doomsman himself.

Much like everything else in his long existence, Námo chose his companion after a great deal of care and deliberation, observing all those who fluttered around him like pretty little moths flapping their wings. When one particular elf caught his eye, he made his choice. And he had been well pleased with it ever since.

"I could spend many a glorious hour between your legs." Námo sighed wistfully and drew back, his lips and cheeks already glistening with your slick. He had feasted on the sweetness of your folds, but that had not been enough. Another appetite needed to be satisfied.

His praise was a heady thing, and pleased you greatly. "You have done so already, my lord. Many an hour, I might add."

Námo moved to rest on his knees before grasping yours with those large, soft hands of his and pulling them apart. "True," he admitted, "but those delightful hours are not even the blink of an eye for one such as me."

"Indeed," you agreed, your lips twitching at the corners. "But do not tell me you did not enjoy them."

"I will not lie, my love, when I say I did enjoy them. I enjoyed them immensely." He chuckled sweetly, slipping his arms around you and rolling you in one swift motion. When he stopped, he was beneath you, and you were above him. "Go on, little raven. You know what you have to do."

It was too much, even from this position. Námo was exceedingly tall and well-made, even when he had taken the form of an elf. You had to take him into you inch by slow inch, your body tensing and clenching from his welcome intrusion. You grew lightheaded, dazed even. That rigid part of him filled you so much that it was almost painful. And so wonderful. Námo closed his eyes, trembling with a quickened gasp when you sheathed him, your hands splaying over his chest. His hands ghosted your hips, the tips of his fingers tracing delicate lines over your flesh.

Everything was forgotten. His duties and yours, the softness of the sheets against his back, the chilly air dancing over your skin. All that mattered was the sweetness of him inside you, of your warmth undoing him in ways he never thought possible. And you shook—Eru alone knew how much you shook—when skilled hands gripped your hips in a way that was all too familiar to you.  

The first cry tore through him when you rolled your hips. His hands moved, gliding and caressing, setting you ablaze where they touched. He cupped the swell of your breasts, toying with nipples that were already stiff and sensitive. Your moan was intoxicating to him. It made him crave more.

"You were made for me. Only you could make me forget myself." Námo made himself open his eyes, so eager was he to drink in the sight of you taking him into you again and again and again. "Do you understand this?"

His hair had spread all over the pillows in a spill of brilliant pewter and silver, glittering in the dim candlelight. His eyes, black to the center and specked with gray, had been fixed on yours; the sheer beauty of them and the devotion they held took your breath away.

"I do." You hoped and prayed that you did. Námo was not one of those Valar who made their choices without a care in the world. He weighed and measured each decision after a great deal of thought, even when it came to the matter of his chosen companion. That he chose you out of all those who gathered around him was a wonder in itself.

"Good." His hips moved in time with your movements, his thrusts pushing his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt. It made you see stars. You welcomed it—the pain and ecstasy both—every time he sank his length into the wet heat of your sex. Námo took command as he always did, setting a relentless pace, pulling your hips down harder and harder. You nearly lost balance and grabbed onto his arms for support. He moaned. Nothing in the world sounded as sweet as that.

Heat gathered and pooled in your lower belly, your entire body tensing like a string drawn taut. Your grip tightened, your hips undulating in sync with his movements. Námo lost himself in your flesh, in the wild euphoria that rose to claim him. His movements were frantic, desperate, wanton. His eyes flashed, the silver in them gleaming like tiny stars.

Again, it was all too much. The bliss that came with him sliding his shaft inside you, the sparks that surged through your veins—it was too much. The tightening in your belly finally snapped, even as you dissolved into pleasure. Time slowed down as your vision faded to dark, aftershocks still gripping your body. Námo held onto you, keeping you steady, fucking you through your orgasm. He shattered beneath you, your name on his lips, a wave of his spend spilling even as he finally went still.

Slow, carefully, you opened your eyes, as if you were waking from a most glorious dream. Námo was still beneath you, now completely satisfied. He knelt up in bed, taking you with him, bringing his lips to yours. His kiss was tender, sweet as the wine he had for dinner, and slick with the essence that still lingered. His breath mingled with yours, his silken hair brushing against your arms when you slid them around his broad shoulders. Námo finally sighed.

"That was beyond everything I could have imagined." Trembling hands found their way to your hair, your cheeks. "Have I hurt you, little raven?"

Your body ached, your lips were puffy and bruised. And all of it was a mere trifle to the exhilaration he drowned you in.

"You have not," you returned, pleased to see the relief in his eyes. Námo may be stern at times, more than a little aloof, but he was never cruel, and took no joy in inflicting pain, even during moments such as these. "I would not trade one moment of what we just shared for anything."

tags: @cilil @edensrose @asianbutnotjapanese

[mostremote]

reflecting on 2023, thoughts for 2024, long personal post

How would I sum up 2023? Well, it's certainly been productive. Securing a permanent position at a university I adore is unreal, and I still subconsciously assume there's been a mistake and they'll fire me any day now. After what was essentially 7 years of precarity, having professional stability is absolutely wild. I love my job, I love my students, I love my colleagues, and it's insane to me that I seem to have actually "made it" professionally.

My second book is coming out with a Big Publisher and that's very nice too. I don't have much emotional attachment to that project, but it took a lot of work and I'm satisfied that it is reaching its appropriate conclusion. I will make, I am sure, zero money out of it, but that's academic publishing for you lol

I gave my first keynote paper at a (cute, small) conference, so that was also a milestone. I also organised a very successful conference in which like 1/4 of the speakers cited my work, which was absolutely surreal and made me want to disappear into the ground.

I made a huge amount of progress on my novel, it's pretty much finished, and my one real resolution for 2024 is to make a proper effort to get it published. I'll wait until my academic book is out to start that process, but that's the one resolution I'm setting for myself. I don't know if I'll have any luck (it's not exactly a book with mass appeal) but I want to at least give it a shot.

Healthwise, well. It's been a ride. A good ride, but a ride nonetheless. I switched medications for my chronic illness, coming off a really major one and getting onto a much milder one, as I've been basically asymptomatic. This is good news all round: I've adapted well to the new meds, and I don't have to deal with all the nasty side effects of the old meds (they fuck you up long term). The main problem I have now is that I can't drink much alcohol, but that's a small price to pay for good health.

But one side effect of the medication was weight gain. I gained around a stone after I'd been on it for a year but I figured that was just "not being in your early 20s anymore" weight gain. Turns out nope! I haven't weighed myself lately but I have visibly lost a lot of weight and it's a little disconcerting to be suddenly, well, very skinny again. I look much younger and smaller. It's not bad, it's just a stark difference to adjust to and not something I was expecting to happen in my 30s.

I've also adjusted my hormone regimen. I don't have any long term plans (i never do lol) but I've been enjoying playing more with feminine presentations. I'm just, comfortable with my body and happy with who I am. How about that!

Mental healthwise, hoo boy. Let's address my being cursed by an ancient amulet and becoming crushingly obsessed with the fictional villain of The Hunger Games. I haven't spoken about this on here but The Shivering Season is significantly informed by my own experiences with different forms of abuse and mental health problems, and I have been processing a lot while writing it. Sometimes I've had anxiety attacks while writing, which never happens to me! There was a point before Christmas I was having anxiety attacks at random everyday, just hanging out watching TV, because it seems I was bringing so much stuff to the surface. And I seem to have worked through some things, because the intrusive sexual abuse thoughts/fantasies I have experienced compulsively for, idk, 15+ years have gone. Completely gone. Really, really weird! I need to go back to therapy about this but I just don't know how to explain "I became obsessed with The Hunger Games and now I have 70% less trauma" in a normal way.

And I have been extremely manic these past 2 months. That is probably obvious from how I've been posting, but jesus christ. I wake up at 5am, I fall asleep at 11pm (and as someone who historically needs 8-9 hours every night, this is significant). I write thousands of words almost every day. I am generally inclined to periods of mania, but this is extremely intense and it has lasted since the start of November. I'm scared of crashing, both because this hyperproductivity is giving me a lot of positive brain chemicals and because I don't know what kind of person I'll be if it goes. Will the intrusive thoughts come back? I don't want them to! I've been very happy without them!!

And that's the conclusion, really: I've had a very happy year. I'm mistrustful of happiness, but I am still happy. I don't know what to expect of 2024, but I am optimistic, and content, and marvelling at in what a good place I'm in now compared to how I was.

Happy new year!

[dino-doodles]

I've never made a post like this so apologies to the mutuals that may not expect it.

For as long as I can remember I did not like my body. I have always been a bigger girl. I struggled for years with symptoms of body dysmorphia and disordered eating. My brain was convinced that was the only way to stop feeling so pained.

I would have rapid and intrusive thoughts about committing violence against my body. Literally cutting away what I considered at the time problem areas: my stretch marks, my upper arms, my thighs, and mainly my belly. After several months of weekly therapy I have hope for the first time since I was a literal child that I won't always feel this way.

Its been a long time coming both in therapy and in my personal life looking at ED recovery posts, the fat liberation and body positivity movements, and support from my lovely lovely girlfriend but for the first time in months I was able to weigh myself without getting triggered. It went up and I felt neutrally about it. It was a fact the same way my hair and eye color are facts.

I look at my body and see it the way my girlfriend sees it. I have big soft thighs and a round supple belly. Those aren't bad evil immoral things to have. Just more to be loved on.

To those struggling it gets better. Seek help, therapy if you can afford it. EMDR is what finally worked for me but the specifics are all very individual. You are lovable and worthy and deserve to get better.

To those still in the depths of it recovery is a good thing. Even if the scale goes up you will have more energy and as time goes on you will feel more at home in your body. You can find joy. You can find love. You can find peace. It is a long and hard journey but it's possibly and it's worth it.

That's all. Thank you.

[grippingbeskar]

Hey lovely 😊 how's life? How are you REALLY doing?

I'm patiently waiting for 25th chapter of salt, ice and fire. 😇 It's totally fine if you want to concentrate on something else for a while, just wanted to know if you're okay 🥹

It is a coincidence, but everytime I had a shitty day, suddenly a new chapter came out and it always made me feel so much better. I'm having extremely hard time at work lately and everyday I'm hoping for the next chapter. At the same time I don't want it to end yet and the realization breaks my heart, so actually I'm glad you haven't posted it 🫠

I'm such a tragic piece of shit 😆

Anyway, can I have a tiny tiny request? I'd love a one shot with Frank with a lot of fluff and "sweeheart"(s) and love and just Frank being supportive and protective, basically anything that would take my mind off work. I've been getting up way too early, coming home late, the job itself is not so bad, but the people are awful. To be honest, everyday I come home shut the front door and just break down in tears.

Whoa, can't believe I made this about myself, when I was asking how are YOU doing. I still wanna know! 🙃

I hope I'm not asking too much, if you don't feel like writing it, I'll understand.

Take care 🖤

D

sweet loving— a SIAF drabble

— @lemon-world1 read the end of this fic for my long ass reply to this sweet message, i ranted a bit too long lmao 💞

— also, this can be read as a lil one shot, but it’s set in my series universe, salt, ice and fire, between chapter 24 and 25. but it’s just sweet and fluffy. this isn’t proof read i wrote it as soon as i got this ask so pls excuse any errors <3

— warnings: none. just happy thoughts :)

Your shoulders ache, feet past the point of pain as you trudge through the door and slam it behind you. It wasn’t anything in particular— more everything all at once that was weighing on you. Even your hands shook as they through the keys on the table, the loud clatter like a final straw, making your eyes squeeze shut at the noisy intrusion.

You only make it about three steps forward before you hear him moving. It’s late— windows permanently drawn shut, but usually the light can trickle in when the sun hits, dancing along the old wood floors like shimmering diamonds. Not now though. Apart from the hue of the moon, the apartment is pitch black, so even if your eyes were open you wouldn’t see him coming. He clears the length of the living room in only a few long strides, your eyes not even having time to open before you feel him.

He doesn’t say anything, either because it’s so late and he doesn’t want to crack the silence or because he could tell it had been a long day. He always could just tell— it would of been unnerving, how easily he could read you, if you didn’t love it so much. His arms wrap tightly around your lower back, the other snaking under your ass so he can lift you up off the floor. Your legs relax around him, a years worth of tension floating down and away from you just in the way he holds you close.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, back almost arching into the heat of his body. He had been asleep, you could tell because of how warm his skin was, and how he groaned lazily as he turned to walk you into your bedroom.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He murmurs, head dipping to kiss under your jaw. You can’t find words just yet, just humming in response as his lips continue their path down your neck. It’s all softness and sweetness, and it’s another way Frank manages to read you. He knows what you want before you ever have to ask for it.

You expect to be taken to bed, content to fall asleep in the clothes you were in all day if it meant staying attached to Frank’s body, but instead you feel the cold porcelain of the sink under your thighs. Your eyes flutter open, seeing the cool tones of your bathroom shadowed behind Franks body, his hands holding your head up.

“Hey.” You smile lazily, and he returns it, light sparkling in his eye when you nuzzle your face into his palm. “What’re we doing in here?”

“Getting changed.” He says simply, his hands travelling down to hook underneath your shirt and swiftly pull it over your head. You let him move you around, a sleepy smile on your face, content to do whatever it is he wants you to do. “Can’t sleep in jeans.”

“I can just sleep naked.” He leans into your open legs, chest pressing to yours as he laughs, the sound muffled in your hair. You feel his hands again, calloused and searching for the clip of your bra, undoing it like he has a thousand times before. It still sends a shiver up your spine.

“Heads always in the gutter, ain’t it sweetheart?” He pulls a shirt— his shirt, you can tell— over your head, before his hands come back to your cheeks to encourage you closer. He finally kissed you, and you sigh appreciatively, like he’s serving you something you’ve craved for months, though it had really just been mere hours.

The kiss is slow. His lips melt into your own, your body slumping forward to taste more of him. Your hands wander through his hair, down his neck to his shoulders, his skin still impossibly warm despite the chill air of the bathroom. You moan as his hands dip again, slowly working the button on your jeans. When they give, he slides you off the counter, and you whine when his lips leave yours.

“Frank.” You pout, and he shakes his head. You can see the smug smirk of his face from this angle as he sinks down in front of you, taking your jeans off and freeing your legs so you stood before him in just his shirt and your underwear.

He takes his time coming back up, hands sliding up the skin of your calves, slowly up behind your thighs, stopping on your ass. He can’t help himself even in the middle of the night, giving the flesh a light squeeze that he knows always makes you laugh before stilling on your hips.

“Didn’t realise you’d be so late, baby.” He flicks the lights off, sinking you both into darkness as he guides you back to your bedroom.

“Neither. Took too long.” You can’t think about the events of the day, not when he’s kissing you all over, worshipping every bit of you he can reach before he tugs you down on the bed.

“What happened?” He wraps his arms around you, trailing his fingers up and down your leg as he pulls you flush against his body.

“Someone was just… they said some shit when I walked past. Nothing crazy, I just— “ You whisper all of it in confession. “People are just the fucking worst sometimes.”

“Who?” Franks voice drops lower, a tone you only recognise when he’s holding a gun.

“I don’t know them. It’s fine, I just don’t want to think about it anymore.” Frank grumbles something aggressive under his breath, and you have no doubt he’ll push you on it tomorrow, but for now his hands are too distracting, and the wet heat of his mouth under your jaw has you sighing his name. “Fuck, Frank.”

“It’s late, baby. Get some sleep— I’ll take care of you in the morning.” His words drip like honey down your spine, full of care and affection you wouldn’t think was possible from someone who used to be so hard and cold to you. Now, it was impossible to place him acting with anything but utter adoration with you.

You hum again, and as much as you want to roll over and show him how much you appreciate him, the simple touches and gestures of this moment are sending you drifting off to a place of complete relaxation. So much so that you can feel sleep creeping up behind your closed eyes, Frank still kissing you softly on the top of your head before tucking himself behind you on the pillows.

“Love you, Frankie.” You feel him puff out a breath at the nickname, his smile evident on your skin.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He replies back, and you drift to sleep, knowing Frank will always give you exactly what you need, even if it’s as simple as a good nights sleep.

—first hello. i want you to know this literally made me CRY. like tears were shed. you are the sweetest person ever i am actually a mess. i love hearing that the story has the ability to make you happy in any way, it’s all i ever wanted to do and i appreciate you so much! i am working on the next chapter, ngl i have been distracted watching the last of us and falling into a joel miller hole (he is just so fine i whfjeigkfj) BUT it’s coming!!!

—and i am in the same boat. i don’t want the story to end at all, and i think that’s why i’m putting off writing this next chapter. i know there’s one more after this, but i think i’ll have written everything i wanted to write for this series after the next two. so i think that will actually be it and i am EMOTIONAL! i think i’ll take a little break from series, because i miss writing one shots for frank BUT there is more series in the future, and i will definitely not stop writing for frank ever. he’s my number one forever and always.

—i’m so so sorry you’re having a hard time at the moment, but i hope this tiny lil moment right here helps a little!!! i’ve placed it in the SIAF world, and it’s literally the timeline right in between the last chapter and the next chapter, so i’m basically bribing you with this in hopes it’ll help until i finish the next chapter 😭

—okay i’ll stop ranting now, but as soon as i saw this ask i was like i need to write this right now because you deserve it. lots of love, and i hope things start to look up for you. xx

[verdantmeadows]

Vent CW , discussion of false accusations of sexual harassment

I got a notification on my gmail that an ex friend of mine requested access to a google document that we had shared. Last year, this person accused me of sexual harassment (falsely) and it really screwed over my life in a lot of ways, I lost most of my IRL friends, and this person was my best friend, but they were a very mentally unstable person and a teacher at our school did tell me that it was an act of revenge because we had gotten in a fight prior and they wanted to screw me over. And I know I didn't do anything, but I had a friend get back an OC I (didn't) give them that they tried to sell, and like, they called me their abuser and just... I'm so scared of that. I still can't help but think it. They technically could still access my Tumblr if they wanted to. If I try to make art, do anything online, will they try to call me out? Will they call me their abuser and say I sexually harassed them again? Will everyone truly think that of me? I don't want to be those things. What if I just don't think I did those things because of course I wouldn't think those things of myself? I know logically that's not true, because this person was actually very awful to me, they got jealous over fictional characters and expressed so to me and made me comfort them over it, they made me comfort them when I said a friend of mine gives them good hugs and they said I made them feel like I didn't like their hugs because of it, just, a lot of bad stuff... And I feel like it's my fault. They were a few years younger than me, and I was very aware of that while we were friends, and I knew that friendship can be across generations. One of my greatest friends is my auntie (not related to me) and she's in her 60s. But now I think, it must be my fault for being friends with someone younger than me. I can't trust people younger than me now. If I learn someone's even a few years younger, it often makes me so terrified. I'm hyperaware of every single thing I do regarding anyone that's younger now. I'm terrified and have terrible intrusive thoughts about becoming an abuser or hurting those younger than me. It's just so awful and terrible and I don't know how to handle it. I still have nightmares about this person nearly every night and it's been like, a year. I have dreams that we become friends again or that they apologize to me and ones where I really was that terrible person. I don't want to be a creep or a bad person or an abuser. But I feel like I inherently am now, and just... More than anything, I'm so scared of what they could do to me in the future. They could genuinely harm me, get people to hate me, and think I am some sort of terrible abuser. And I don't know what to do about that or how to prevent that. I don't know what to do about these feelings because I've had reassurance, it's been a year, but the nightmares don't stop and the fears don't stop and day by day knowing that they called me their abuser is getting more and more ingrained in me. I've made great steps and made close friends and managed to trust people, but I can feel it relapsing again. I'm finding it harder to talk to certain friends of mine to the point I can't even message them sometimes. I feel so scared of making mistakes with people that I find it easier to just not talk at all. I'm scared if I bring this up that'll make me a toxic person. I just needed to vent about this since it's been weighing on me.

[pearlypairings]

9 and 14 for Aurelias

What is your favorite dialogue you’ve written so far?

“You are home here.” Stephen says. He’s admiring her from across the table, basking in a ray of sunlight. His eyes are not intrusive or hungry, they float over her form with a flicker of light. “This is my favorite place on my family’s grounds.” A blush settles on the rounds of her cheeks and she hopes it looks like it’s from the sunshine. “Forgive me,  I should do more since you’re my guest here.” “No, no—please, I much prefer this. It’s nice to see a woman at ease, less fussing about. I know it’s how we’re meant to be, but…” Stephen trails off and crooks his neck to look up at the blue sky, the breeze still playing in the waves of his hair. In the hazy light between clouds, Christine sees a heavier expression grace his face, weighed down by his silence and trapped in his own thoughts. Not quite a frown, she wonders if her own countenance has not resembled his when she considers her future as a mediocre imitation of her mother. He laughs softly to himself before meeting her curious gaze again. “Don’t let me sway you to my uncouth ideas. I nearly lose myself in the moment. Shall we walk the grounds, the lovely lady can give me a tour?”

A lot of the dialogue between Chrissy and Steve in chapter 4 let me show off Chrissy’s obsessive anxieties over presenting herself correctly, but also, especially, the excitement she allows herself to feel at the prospect of finding a better match with Harrington than douche Carver. Which also lowkey made me fall in love with the idea of the potential cuteness in steve x chrissy even though this is 100% a hellcheer story lol.

What have you been finding frustrating with writing this chapter/fic?

The editing and keeping track of b-plot lines slowly drives me insane as I’m constantly flipping between chapter docs to try to pull out the specific details I’ve garnered so far. It’s why it takes me so long to finish a chapter to begin with and then go back and edit for clarity, better diction/sentence structure, and to confirm I didn’t make a mistake with my own lore. It can get tedious to say the least.

Thank you Losty <3 you know my craziness well enough by now lol

WIP asks

[ravenquingvax]

sometimes i feel like a child stuck in an adult's body and it genuinely pisses me off

i was failed so much growing up and now I feel like theres nothing that can be done to fix the cracks and breaks in my foundation, to mould and mature me into a real person

i feel so fake and unreal, like im not actually person, sometimes

im aware im not on the same level as other adults mentally, that i probably never will be

i get treated like a kid a lot now that i am an adult, tho i was never treated as kid when i was a kid - or when i was a teen

i wasn't given boundaries, i wasn't taught how to look after myself, i wasn't taught how to socialise or make friends, i wasn't taught to how see and recognise red flags or otherwise toxic behaviour

i was taught to stay quiet and ignore my feelings, i was taught to hate and be angry, i was taught to ignore problems until they can't be ignored anymore

and as a result of this ive been hurt time and time again by the same type of awful people

today marks the first day in over a year where im free, finally fully free, of one of those said horrible & abusive people

and im terrified and feel lost

i feel like ive done something wrong by ensuring they can never hurt me again

that cant be right - can it?

he made me feel so small and weak and useless, like i needed him to take care of me - but he didn't take care of me at all

and my current partner is the sweetest guy ever, is trying to help me figure shit out and move on in my own time, but i feel like im holding him back

like im weighing him down with all of my baggage and shit

he says im not, says hed go to hell and claw his way back for me if it were made necessary

and i appreciate that

but ive also been taught to hate myself and see myself as the weird annoying one that people just cant like, im too different minded and immature - or, confusingly, too mature???

i wonder if we should take a break to sort shit out, i fear he will say yes and disappear (he probably wont, not this one) but i worry im hurting him without intending to

im just so tired and scared

and it's not helping the intrusive thoughts one bit

but today is supposed to be a good day & i want it to be one

i think I need breakfast

[lxkeeeeee]

It's getting bad again... I feel absolutely nothing except for the constant aching of my chest. I'm suffocating, I can barely breathe. I want to rest, I want to rest so badly but I can't... I wanna k.... Myself so bad... But I am too scared... I don't want my family and friends to think they did something wrong when it's me.... I'm just not made right, I don't know... I don't know... I hate this , I hate myself, why am I like this? Where did I go wrong? What did I do to deserve this? Why am I so... miserable? I'm so tired... I'm so so very tired... I just want to feel peace for once, I just want to feel like there's nothing that is weighing my shoulders down. I've been fighting for so long Idk if I can continue. Intrusive thoughts are getting worse again. I'm still trying to ignore it...

I just want to hide... I just want to hide away from all this pain and loneliness. Why am I like this? I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me everything will be okay... Is that too much to ask for? I'm so touch starved... I really need someone... Anyone... Everything hurts. I can't breathe.

[echologname]

Hope for those who feel hopeless

https://www.youtube.com/live/BpkxShLl5vs?si=872e7GuPG9oCcetw&t=25m04s

This is similar to what I went through and I think Christians don't talk enough about this, when we lose faith when we're Jonah and we run away from God, The Prodigal Son who makes a lot of dumb choices out on His own, Gomer Hosea's unfaithful wife, the lost lamb, the people who crucified Jesus when we're God's people but for some reason, we end up doing everything we swore we would never, like when we're Peter denying having Known Jesus, when we give in to the darkness and let it consume our minds and hearts and go from living Godly lives to really sinful ones. Of course after something like that, after drowning in our self destruction, we feel like we're too evil to ever be a part of God's kingdom again, we feel like we're the villains in Bible stories because that's how we felt and acted. It's a steep hill to come to accept God's Grace. Jesus did that hard part, that one we can't do, which is save ourselves. He ALREADY paid for what we've done and will do. It's crazy, we feel we have NO faith anymore, how then can we believe and be saved by faith again? Somehow, it was so easy as kids who barely knew anything. Now we know too much, too much depression and anxiety. So much time has passed, we've forgotten who we are and who God is, how in the world can we get back to where we were so long ago? It's not "how in the WORLD" it's "how in GOD," which I believe all things are possible through Him no matter how badly you messed up because John 1:5 tells us the light will ALWAYS be stronger than the dark and God is faithful and just to forgive (1 John 1:9).

I think after going through something like this, it's easy to fear we had our chance and we squandered it, and there's no longer any hope for salvation. I don't believe that. No matter how much The Enemy tries to get me to think I'm a bad person who can't be redeemed. Because if it was, no Christian would ever be able to rejoice in The Gospel, it would be pointless. I believe if you were God's once, you'll ALWAYS be no matter how you think and feel because God is greater than your thoughts and feelings, He KNOWS your very soul, the parts if you that not even you can see and I believe no power of Earth or Hell can EVER steal you away from Him and His everlasting love, not even you in your imperfection, confusion, stubbornness, anger and sin that made you want to run from Him in the first place. I BELIEVE in the power of His love, I BELIEVE even if you turned away from God, He's true to His promises and will NEVER fail you. I've been reading through my Bible and God has seen Hell, nothing escapes His notice, there are people who've done a lot worse than you and He STILL wanted them, no matter who or how they were. He wants us in our imperfections, doubt, guilt and hatred. The doors are OPEN to you by the blood of Jesus! If He started to be too exclusive about who's fit for His kingdom, He'd be out of people because we're ALL sinners even Godly people like King David, Moses and Elijah.

If you've come BACK to God after a break from Him, be joyful! Now, I'm struggling with that after devoting myself to my Faith again because I DO have fear weighing on me. I was joyful at first but Satan doesn't want me to be and sometimes it can be hard. I've been having horrible intrusive thoughts and yes, the forces of darkness WILL attack you for wanting or trying to be closer to God but God is my shepherd, my guardian and my strength. If it's a battle, then, He'll provide a way to win and to win EVERY battle that'll come my way. It's easy to forget, Earth isn't home, it's the front lines of a war older than time between good and evil and we were born INTO it. The Enemy could have taken my life countless times since the day I was born but I'm STILL standing because of Jesus. I have scars from IVs, getting hit by a car, and body parts that are damaged from stress and chronic illnesses but I'M STILL STANDING because GOD HAS ALWAYS BEEN WITH ME even when I thought I wasn't and didn't want to be. God has always been stronger than the darkness that keeps me prisoner to pain and sorrow. I promise you, He's bigger than ALL of humanity's mistakes combined, so, He can more than forgive your missteps and shortcomings even when they seem so bad in your head.

I trust my Lord. That's all, repent and trust that even if you still feel down, you're forgiven.

May God be with you in all things! 🙂

“The will of God will not take us where the grace of God cannot sustain us.”

Billy Graham

[3-lavender]

Tw a lot of stuff like a lot. Sui ideation, anxiety, depression, illness anxiety, ed, and probably more idk

If I were to actually go through with it, who would care and how would people react? I remember when my sister was in high school, a kid who she sat next to but never talked to went through with it. She was sad. She never talked to him but it still affected her. I never saw him and I don’t think I ever knew his name but it made me feel so so sad. Will people I never even talked to care? I’ve thought about it a lot. Nobody knows the extent. How will it affect my family? I know it would change things, a lot. Whenever I think about it, I compare my life to George baileys in its a wonderful life. Looking at the difference he made is amazing. I know I didn’t make nearly anything close to the difference he made but I know I’ve had an effect on people. I have friends and people who I love and who love me. I have family, family who’s already been through losing someone because of it. I have friends who they themselves struggle or have struggled with thoughts of it. My best friend. When we were in middle school, she showed me her journal. In it said, “if I had a gun right now I would kill myself”. I don’t remember the exact words but I remember the feeling. I felt sick and scared for her. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to betray her by telling my mom. So I just told her that I love her and that it’s brave of her to keep living because she said she only hasn’t done it because she’s a coward. She’s still alive and I know she’s still sad in the way she has been, but I love her. I make sure to let her know how much I love her, to let all my friends know.

I smile a lot. And laugh. I am so myself so that others feel comfortable being themselves. I don’t understand. I smile and laugh and get excited and feel so in love with music or my friends but I still want to go through with it. I still think about it daily. I don’t understand how I can genuinely be happy but still want to die. I think it’s because I’m not happy with myself. I’ve hated myself for as long as I can remember. Everything. I’ve hated everything about myself. I remember feeling responsible for everyone’s feelings my entire life. I would think about my dad all alone and I’d cry and I’d spend more time with him. I remember never feeling comfortable talking about my feelings. I don’t know why. I never told my family about my elementary school crushes because I felt ashamed having them and vulnerable. I never cried in front of anyone. Ever. When I was around 3rd grade, I remember being in church and seeing my friend crying out of joy and the strong feeling of jealousy I felt. The jealousy that she was brave enough to express her emotions. I remember 6ish years ago, when I was 11, my dad got a lady pregnant. Adults are bad at hiding things because I found out the gender and that they were giving her up for adoption before he even told me. He told me and my little sister at the same time. I thought, “I can’t make him sad”, so I acted happy, even though in reality, I felt nothing.

Something that weighed down on me my entire life is intrusive thoughts. I’ve had them my whole life I think. I’d scream and run from knives and my brother thought it was bc I was scared of him but it was really because I thought one day I’d grab it and stab somebody. I had awful awful thoughts. I thought it was who I really was. I remember not being able to sleep because of how crowded my mind was with everything. I was terrified of dying in my sleep, I’d becoming evil and hurting someone. So, I’d play sleep music and lay on the couch and make up stories in my head until I fell asleep. Eventually, I learned what intrusive thoughts and learned how to ignore them. I still struggle occasionally but not nearly to the extent I struggled when I was too young to understand. I also thought I had cancer from literally the ages of like 8 to 15. I’m lowkey a hypochondriac. That was a big reason I couldn’t sleep as well.

So, I hated myself because I thought I was evil and responsible for everyone’s feelings, but I also hated how I looked. I saw my third grade yearbook photo and cried bc I thought I was fat. I refused to Look at pictures of myself bc they just made me blank out and cry. As I got older I just hated myself more and more.

Looking back, it suprises me how suicidal I am when back when I was a kid, the pain was so much sharper. Now, I just feel tired.

I’m so so tired. I sleep constantly. I don’t really like doing anything anymore. At work, if I make a single mistake, I tear myself down and I try to stop the spiraling but it goes out of my control very quickly. When I’m home, I have no motivation, when I’m anywhere even. I feel numb and confused. I think about death a lot

I have ways I’d do it. I know I’d play a certain song and drive out in the country roads. I’d go at night. I’d write letters. I’d call the cops so that nobody unsuspecting could find me and my family wouldn’t think I was missing. I don’t have a specific way of actually doing it.