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mylordshesacactus · 3 years

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Goals Only Matter In Soccer

A recurring theme I hear from people struggling to “figure out” roleplaying is that they feel their characters are flat, uninteresting, or that they’re otherwise bad at character creation because their characters don’t have “goals.” Or, as the flip side of that coin, that they themselves are bad roleplayers because they either can’t remember their characters’ goals, or can’t/don’t enjoy actually roleplaying those goals.

(A short break for shameless self-promotion: If you want some one-on-one assistance with character creation or are struggling to roleplay, I do one-hour consult sessions to give you specific help in tapping into your RPG character. You get tailored guidance with no attempts to tell you what you “should” do, and I get to ethically keep my therapeutic interviewing skills from getting rusty while in grad school limbo. Everyone wins!)

This is getting a bit esoteric. Let’s use some concrete examples.

Some common “goals” might be: A wizard whose goal is to become more powerful or gain a certain form of knowledge, a noble-born character whose goal is to restore their family’s name or wealth, or the evergreen goal of avenging a great wrong like the death of a loved one.

These are all great character goals! There is nothing wrong with having a character with a clear goal they work toward over the course of the game, and making a character with a clear goal is a great way to get started with roleplaying!

But it is only one method. And it’s not always appropriate.

I’m about to blow your damn mind: Characters don’t need goals.

The idea that a well-rounded character should always have a “goal” is pervasive, and honestly harmful to good character creation and roleplaying! And it’s even more difficult to overcome because if you look for roleplaying or character-building advice, “give them a goal” is generally one of the first bullet points. This is well-meaning, and it’s not bad advice. But if it leaves you feeling like your character is incomplete because they don’t have A Goal—or worse, feeling obligated to tack on a “goal” and struggle to prioritize it in roleplay—then it’s not helpful.

Characters do not need “goals”.

But all characters need motivations.

As usual, I’m going to use my own characters as an example so you don’t feel like I’m lecturing you. I think I only have one major D&D character who could be stated to have a “goal”--my halfling druid/fighter, who wants to repay her debt to the Circle so that she can make a clean and respectful break and live her own life without guilt.

But the others? Benny (Benevolence, but only her mom calls her that), my tiefling bard, doesn’t have a “goal” she works toward; in all honesty, her goal was her pre-campaign life. She likes being a travelling musician, she wants to perform and meet people across the continent! Rinda, my dwarven paladin, has five kids at home--her nieces and nephews, who she adopted after her sister’s tragic death in a mine collapse. She’s got no career ambition because she feels that chasing rank or prestige is inappropriate in a paladin, whose priority should be ordinary people and who needs to be accessible and grounded in the reality of the common folk. Her “goal” is to just keep being an honorable, mid-rank paladin and providing for her family.

That’s not remotely helpful in a tabletop RPG! Those are terrible “goals” for a character in a team-based game! If I followed general beginner RP advice and leaned into those goals, I’d end up that dreaded monstrosity, the player who says things like “but why would my character get involved? She would just let the town guard handle it”.

However, these characters’ motivations are a different story.

Benny doesn’t set out with the goal of becoming a hero; it’s not something she consciously works toward or considers a major aspiration. But she is responsible for what she allows, and at her core, Benevolence was well-named. She was raised by loving parents who taught her how to raise working animals and livestock ethically and with compassion, and who taught her the regret that comes of making selfish decisions. Helping others and minimizing suffering isn’t her life goal. She didn’t set out from home with a dream of being better than her parents, of putting good into the world instead of just mitigating the bad...but sometimes people really do just help others because it’s the right thing to do.

Rinda? Her driving purpose will always be her family. Caring for them is her goal, the thing she intentionally prioritizes, the thing she actively works for. But her motivations are not the same thing. Yes, she wants to stay close to take care of her kids...but her responsibilities as a paladin are important to. She’s a protector who swore an oath, and her children are not more important than children in the next city over who will suffer without her intervention. Her motivation is to make people feel safe, but that’s not really a traditional “goal”. And she’s a stronger character for that!

So: Motivations > Goals.

Which does NOT mean that your character shouldn’t have a concrete goal! That’s not what I’m saying at all. Rather...if your character has a concrete goal, arising naturally from their backstory, and you struggle to roleplay that goal, it may be because you’re not tapping into why your character has that goal in the first place. Are they seeking power because they’re terrified of a specific enemy? To prove a detractor or an abuser wrong? In order to accomplish a specific task--and in that case, who or what made them believe that task was important? Why is your rogue trying to avenge the death of his sister--and you can’t say “love” or “grief”. Many people have lose loved ones; what made this specific person decide that the only way forward was murder, and that his target(s) were responsible, and that he personally had to dedicate his life to killing them?

(This course of questioning may lead you to realize that you don’t have an answer. If that happens, ask yourself--is this a realization that your CHARACTER might have? That they don’t know why they’re doing this? Follow that thread! If not, it’s possible that you’ve tacked on an artificial “goal” for the sake of having one, and your character would be stronger without that anchor weighing them down.)

Sedge, that druid/fighter from earlier--her goal is to repay a massive debt so that she can be free of the Circle’s influence and live her own life. But her motivation? A mixture of shame and honor. The Circle saved her from a lot of predatory loans from bad people, rescued her, saved her life. She’s embarrassed at ending up so deep in debt and too proud to not repay that kind of kindness, but also feels a genuine gratitude for their kindness toward a total stranger. She wants to do right by them--but hates being a druid--but has always wanted to be the kind of hero who helps others exactly as selflessly as they did.

It creates a lot of in-depth roleplay possibilities that wouldn’t exist if I’d just left that goal as simple as “acquire X amount of gold to pay off her student loans” and proceeded to play Sedge as simply money-obsessed.

Even if your character does have a clear goal, their motivations can change and come into conflict with it! A heroic character with debts to repay might easily refuse a huge payday if it requires them to do something shady...but they might not. How desperate are they? A wizard whose goal is to unlock the power to cast Wish might see a path to that goal...but pursuing it would mean abandoning a helpless village in the path of an orc army, and if she stays to defend that village, she loses her opportunity.

What wins out, in the end? And what effect will that choice have on her psyche?

Suddenly it really, really matters why she’s so dead-set on learning Wish. Whether it’s out of pride or fear (which might be easier for her to set aside in the face of innocent lives) or out of a deep-rooted belief that something absolutely essential rests on her learning this spell—something a lot harder to turn her back on.

These conflicts can occur with or without a “goal”. But, whether a character has a “goal” or not, these conflicts and intimate, pivotal character moments absolutely cannot exist in a character without motivations.

#d&d #character creation #rp development

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dredshirtroberts · 5 years

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The update you’ve all been waiting for

LOL nah I know better.

Anyway now that I’m finished with my marathon 14 hour anxiety attack over potentially losing my apartment i’ve worked so hard for. I figure I should probably like...say something about the things.

Deets under the cut:

So like. ‘s been a while, yeah?

I think last I posted about myself, I was pretty happily involved with a guy I’d been with for a while, things were good, I had two cats, a house and a future and everything was hunky dory.

And as some of you may have figured out, when my life is falling apart I become a hermit crab. You can’t find me. I stick to one outlet and my feelings stay inside.

Mostly because my vent zone’s been found out and I don’t feel comfortable with talking about shit with the person I’m venting on yet. Happens every damn time.

Anyway. so.

God I don’t even remember the last update you all had.

Maybe...Maybe I just start from the beginning.

Now i just have to figure out what part’s the beginning. Okay.

So as some of you know, or have gathered over the time you’ve been following me, I used to be in a really REALLY shitty and emotionally abusive/manipulative friendship. Things went down, I got out and I actually was really lucky to have been transitioned from one singular abusive friend to a very supportive and caring friend group - and I had a boyfriend and that helped too. That one was part of the new friend group, I was connected, I had a place to go so I wouldn’t go running back like the FIRST time things went poorly and I should have learned my lesson. Shit was good.

That guy decided I was (and I quote) “Like riding a roller coaster” and he didn’t want to be on it anymore. And no, not in the fun way. I guess I should have figured it was probably not a great idea to start a relationship with a guy who named himself after heavy artillery but what can I say? I have a thing for abused guys.

So anyway, 6 months after I’d cut off the one friend I’d had for 4 years, who I’d had during my transition from living at home to living out in the wild like a real adult, I was alone again. I’d moved an hour away from home, my roommate and who I’d been counting on to be my default friend to hang with in town didn’t have a lot of time (or more likely just didn’t like me much). I spent a month by myself playing World of Warcraft, and chatting with random dudes from a dating site. Had 2 dates in that whole period of time and one of them was what I thought was a keeper.

It started out great. While we weren’t living together I could count on regular sleep overs with him, we’d hang out every day. I mean we spent every. single. day. together since 2 days after our first date until...well until about a month ago.

I thought this was my Christmas I’d been dreaming for - a guy who wanted me, thought I was pretty, wanted to take care of me and who didn’t think I was a total weirdo. Told me I was smart and beautiful and sexy and all the things I’ve been wanting to hear for...well, a really fucking long time.

That first year...if I could have had that again, even just the promise of it...

Well, after a year we started talking about moving in together. My lease was ending and he was intent on buying a house. So, he bought a house, I moved in, and it was just about perfect. And then about 2 weeks after he moved into the house and got settled, he got laid off from his job. He didn’t go back to work for a really long time. Admittedly he did have a nice cushion to fall back on and he was able to help on 1/2 the bills for a while. But then he didn’t have that much, and I was paying everything and I didn’t make as much as he had. And he was able to get another job, but then he lost that one, went back on unemployment, tried again. Got a new job. Lost it. Got a new job. Lost it. I’d say it was a good 2.5 years I was paying for everything, if not longer than that. And every time he had money coming in, it was his credit, his bills, his loans that got paid off first. And in that time, well, I made things work. I bought the groceries, I paid all the bills, and whatever he decided he would be able to afford I’d get from him whenever he would get it. I didn’t keep track of anything. It was our house, that’s what partners do.

The cycle just got worse as what little he had after each job got smaller, and my ability to hold everything together started fraying like construction paper on a first grader’s art project. My glue stick wasn’t enough to make a masterpiece.

I maxed out my first credit card, the one I got because he insisted I needed to have one in order to get any kind of credit score so I could be approved for loans. I’d used it to help pay for the amount on the furniture the financing option wouldn’t cover. I used it to buy the washer and dryer. My grandparents had given me money to help buy the refrigerator for the house. I had to pay the bills out of my bank account most times. And when that card wasn’t usable anymore, I got another one. And in that time period I’d gotten a third because I needed repairs on my car and I couldn’t afford to do anything else. So here I was, going further and further into debt. I paid the bills in his name first, as on time as I could so his credit score wouldn’t be affected because that was the one thing he said over and over again - I had to make sure to pay his bills on time because that was *his* credit score I would be effecting.

No mind was paid to mine. Not until I was too deep in the hole.

after I maxed out all three of my credit cards, I was unable to make payments on the first one anymore in order to keep up with the bills. I had a new job, that pays more than my first one but I was going through hell with my health. Because you know, why the fuck not. So I wasn’t at work all the time. and he didn’t have a job. And I was paying for a house I knew I couldn’t afford, but he insisted it could be done. So I did it. and when I couldn’t do it, and I knew he didn’t ahve money and his mother didn’t have money (because he wouldn’t not talk about how she didn’t have the ability to continue giving and giving), and I had already asked too much from my parents. God I had asked so much from them...I couldn’t think of anything else but to look online for credit options - could there be any kind of way I could get cash fast to make sure the bills were paid?

I ended up taking out 2 payday loans. I don’t recommend it. When I still couldn’t make things happen on time, I got found out because I lied to him about the bills being paid. I thought i could do it in enough time I wouldn’t be found out. I thought I could fix it. And I was lectured that didn’t I know I could come to tell him I needed help with the bills? Didn’t I know we could ask his mom for help?

but I didn’t know I could do that. Because everything I’d heard from him was that he was only getting so much and it was just barely going to do this and do that and his mom was retired and she didn’t have a million dollars and she gives it away willy nilly to save everyone but she won’t take care of herself. And I saw that it didn’t matter to them - he bought models and games and video games all the time with whatever money he had left over. I didn’t ask for any money for groceries. He didn’t offer. His mom would take his family out for dinners, to vacations, everything. But I didn’t want to be one more burden on her.

In December I had opened up that there was no way I could make the house payments on time. everything was late, nothing was going to be able to be taken care of. And he was angry. I’d lied to him. I was afraid of looking incompetent and it ended up doing exactly that after all. because how could I not know how to manage money? Except...I do. I practically went to school and got an associates in how to make sure money stays in a bank account. FOR A BUSINESS. I know how to do this.

His anger he luckily didn’t take out on me right away. He went to his mother to discuss things with her but I was left by myself during that time, wondering if he’d follow through on his threats previously to kick me out if I lied to him again (I’m a habitual liar to make sure I stay safe. It’s a bad coping mechanism and I thought i’d gotten past it). When he came back he had a game plan and told me that if this ever happened again I could forget about living there anymore.

And I tried again to keep it under control. but...I can’t make that sort of thing work. It would have taken a fucking miracle. And my parents had outright told me they were no longer going to help support him. They’d offer me support and help me find my way out of the hole I’d dug myself into but they couldn’t give me anymore money if it just went to keeping him comfortable while he was unemployed. Again.

I don’t blame them. I should have left in December when the red flags added sirens and flashing lights. I just wanted to make it work. I wanted to make him happy.

And I don’t care what nice things he said after I told him I was tired. I was done. I wanted out. He definitely would not have been happy with me. Ever.

I wasn’t ever good enough. It was the way he was raised, he said, that praise wasn’t something he ever gave out. It wasn’t given to him, so all he knew how to do was criticize. Sorry, suggest improvements.

I wasn’t praised either. But I know how to tell people I’m proud of the effort they’ve made. And I’m more than happy to give it. But I refuse to fawn all over someone who’s never helped around the house until they want something and then they do everything.

I’d bring up my issues with him - I did! I was really good about actually talking to him about really big shit for me. And he’d make a change. for like 2 weeks. And then something would happen and he wouldn’t be able to do the things anymore. So I’d take back over for while he was out, and he’d never take it back again.

And he kept doing that over and over. Until I knew bringing up my issues was pointless because I’d end up having to take care of it anyway. Another reason why I didn’t go to him with the fact that i was unable to make my finances support two grown ass people in a mortgaged house.

So, about...eeehhhh a month and a half ago? ish? I’m not looking at my calendar or I’d give a better estimate. Sometime in mid april anyway. I started indicating that I was no longer happy. Because I wasn’t. I hadn’t been. Not for a really really long time. I was tired. Tired of constantly being told I wasn’t good enough when I cooked, cleaned, shopped, and worked to keep a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and supplies for the cats.

I stayed four months too long for the boys. I couldn’t...can’t...bear having let them go. They’re my babies. And you have no idea how much it broke my heart to know if I left I’d NEVER see them again.

Still does tbh. Over and over again.

timeline. stick to the timeline.

so I started planning my escape properly. I’d been thinking the word “escape” for a long time in relation to him. to us. If you’re ever in a relationship and instead of “ending” or “breaking up” your thought is “escape” get out. Get out right then and there because something is WRONG.

And then. after about 2 weeks of him trying very hard to keep me from wanting to leave, I gave up. The cats...while i love them so. much. aren’t worth me being put down, belittled, made to feel less-than, made to feel small and stupid and crazy, made to be afraid that one slip up and I am homeless. If I could have even considered being able to take care of them I’d have fought so hard. But I’m not able to feed me properly. I can’t have a cat right now. Let alone two. I couldn’t take them from having free range of a giant house with so many windows and doors and birds to watch and cats outside to play with through the back window...that would have been more cruel. They’ll forget about me eventually. They’ll be taken care of and loved. And that’s all I want for them.

And to those of you going “but...but what?”

The only thing I know for sure about this man’s capability to love anything on this planet is that he loves animals - cats above all others. He would do a lot to make sure they were cared for. It sucks that I wasn’t as important as the cats. He showed them way more affection than he ever showed me.

They’re safe and cared for. That’s...that will have to be enough.

So...to those who were here for the pictures of Mr. Thumbs with all his thumbs and his monster huge paws, I don’t have the ability to take new pictures of him. I have a good number on my phone I can’t bring myself to get rid of. My background is still the babies laying back to back happy and relaxed on the bed at my feet. My facebook picture is still me with my prettiest baby because I can’t change it. Not right now.

Sorry. this was a tangent. I need to get it off my chest more but I can’t do that right now. The screen is hard to see through tears.

So I broke up with him. Broke up with him and stayed in the house because I didn’t have anywhere else to go yet. I hadn’t been prepared completely. It seemed like fate that I was able to look at this place. 4/27 is when I came out with my parents to view it. Walked through, made sure it looked good, was a safe place for me to be. It’s in the part of the city I’ve always wanted to be in. It’s low rent, low cost for utilities (internet and electricity are all I have to pay outside of rent for this place). My apartment is right at the stairs so it was easy to move things in, I’m on the middle floor so my energy bills are going to be low just by the nature of insulation. there’s only about 6 stairs up to get to my apartment. It’s perfect.

And it was ready almost immediately. I wasn’t ready for how soon everythign was. My parents helped me pay the deposit on the place, I was able to work out a payment plan for the electricity deposit, I could wait on internet because I was grandfathered into the plan my dad has for cellphones with unlimited everything for the price he pays for it (which, honestly, fucking shit dad, how the hell did you get away with that one hm?).

...

I’d almost forgotten about the “contract”. That was clever of him, really. I signed over my rights to the furniture I’d *just* paid off, the washer, the dryer, the fridge my grandparents gifted us, the cats. He wrote up an itemized list. I was to look it over and make sure I approved of it - I didn’t, but my suggestions on negotiation were not ever amended to the document. This was in return for him not asking for half of the payment for the plumbing bill that had occurred when one of the ceramic pipes busted in the yard, backing up all our plumbing and making it so we couldn’t use the water in our house for 2 months. And because I was with him at the time, even though the bill was in his name, and the house was in his name, and I wouldn’t get anything from the plumbing being fixed in the house, he considered me responsible for half of that bill.

Probably more because it was 6k or something like that (I was under the impression it was 5k but it kept growing when we would talk about it so it’s a rough estimate).

So. I gave up all the things I’d bought, that were mine. I gave up the boys. And I could leave.

We signed it and had it notarized (lucky him, his aunt is a notary. hm). I had no one nearby on my side helping me fight for myself. But you know, I eventually decided 1) the stuff is just stuff and 2) it was less for me to worry about moving. This ended up being a blessing in disguise now that I think about it.

That friday was payday. I had been told to stand my ground and not give him any more money because, fuck, I’ve been paying for EVERYTHING. I don’t actually owe him shit. Didn’t. Whatever. And I caved. I told him I could get him a partial amount of the house payment (to be fair, he added that into the contract as well). Well, payday comes and I don’t actually have enough to do that AND get into the apartment the next monday which was the plan. And I was told not to give in, not to give him any more of my money because it’s not his. I didn’t owe him ANYTHING. Probably would have been thrown out in small claims court but whatever. So I didn’t go by the ATM on my way home from work. I thought I might be able to get away with it. And then he gets dressed and tells me to get myself together, we’re driving to my bank so I can get the money.

That...was the tipping point. I’d been in communication with my mom all evening and so i told her. I told her i’d failed in sticking to my guns. That he was taking me to the ATM so I didn’t have the option of not giving him the money at this point. He wasn’t going to do anything else that evening until I’d done it.

I managed...I managed to talk him down by a bit. So I could afford...you know, some of the stuff I had coming up. Because I wasn’t going to be able to survive honestly. I had...like...less than $10 in my account after what I took out.

I was upset. I was mad at myself for breaking, for not standing up for me, for being here so long that the ATM trip was just another in a series of ATM trips any time I owed him money and hadn’t gotten it for him yet. It was normal. I’d normalized it.

And my parents...were extremely worried for me. The plan that whole weekend was to begin packing so I could move the next weekend into the apartment. So i took the laundry upstairs and I folded it and got it ready to put away. Mid folding, he comes up and wants to talk.

Mind you, despite having been broken up for a week, I was still sleeping in the bed with him, I was still supporting him in ways that I don’t even know if I was aware I was doing it. I’d given up so much ground just so he wouldn’t be upset. but I couldn’t love him anymore. Not...not like that. Not like I had.

So. He asks me what’s going on. Why I’m upset. And...3 years of frustration and anger and fear bubbled out of me like fucking ol’ faithful. I was terrified. I recognised myself using prey techniques to make sure I wasn’t targeted. Be loud, be more loud than him, wave your arms - be bigger than you are, look dangerous. Try hard not to freeze and cow down and hide.

It didn’t matter what I said or how I tried to show him how he had been abusive, how he had manipulated and hurt me. How he had neglected my feelings and my wellbeing for his own. He...was angry I’d ever say those things about him. He went to his mother’s house and in a panic I packed everything in the bedroom I could fit into my car and drove an hour to my parents at 10:30 at night. Got there during the worst rainstorm too. I was scared and I was sad and I was weirdly relieved and I hated it.

I got really drunk that night. Slept like a fuckin’ baby tho. Shit I even woke up early the next morning. My mom and I talked about everything and I told her I NEED to know when other people are seeing red flags because clearly I ignore them. So we came up with a warning system so I won’t get upset about it (because I will) when the person I’m around the most is a toxic person for me. It’s emojis. Because emojis are good. Emojis are happy. Except the angry ones.

My parents and I went to my Nana’s house - oh by the way she’s got cancer and is going thru chemo IN CASE ANYTHING ELSE NEEDED TO HAPPEN TO ME DURING THIS WHOLE SHITSHOW. Grabbed her pickup truck, and dropped off the things in my car to store for the time being. I’d packed a little overnight bag for the weekend. I could get more of my clothes after I was out.

We went to the house, we packed me up in about 4 hours into 2 sedans and a pickup all (okay, most. I realized later that I left some items, and I’d chosen to leave behind certain ones because it was messy to separate due to the owner of the other half of the items not being there and me just not wanting to deal with it) of my things were out. I was out. I gave him my key. I was on the way out the door and my dad...did something that dads do. Turns around - a foot from the door, mom and I were already outside on the porch - and goes off on him. Oh, i should mention his mother was there this whole time we’re packing. She was cleaning while he sat and...??? I honestly don’t know what he was doing and I frankly don’t care. Dad told me later it was to make sure that his mother knew what he’d been like, what he’d done.

Shortly after getting on the road with my things he texted and told me after we got the phones sorted out he never wanted to see or hear from me ever again - he was going to pay off the phone bill and make sure we could get that done that day.

Around 7pm that evening I got a message from our friend who we joked was my sister-wife because we were all so close before she went into the army. I may have talked about her. She was already upset with me because I’d decided I didn’t want to work through the issues with him. I didn’t want to put in the time and I had also neglected to check up on her and she has cancer. She told me I was a toxic person and she didn’t need my kind of negativity in her life. I told her I was sorry she felt that way but I understood her decision.

She then responded and told me I wasn’t sorry, i was selfish and some other things - I...I blocked it out a bit and I deleted the thread with her from facebook because I couldn’t look at it. I already felt like shit. I continue to feel like shit. But...I deserve the chance to be happy too.

My nana allowed me to store my items at her house (she has A LOT of space omg huge house in the middle of the mountains, love it) until I could get into the apartment and actually have help with moving things in. I didn’t sign on the apartment until monday, (which is a whole ‘nother set of...anyway) so I was technically homeless Saturday and Sunday. My parents kept me Saturday but Sunday night I needed to be closer to work to make sure i got in so I couched with a friend from work who lives nearby (er...relatively. she was safer than the other option which was definitely closer but less...anyway).

Monday morning I arrived for the final walk thru with the maintenance people, I got my key, I had a friend help me move in the futon mattress I’m sleeping on, and that weekend I had a gaggle of lovely people come and help me get everything from the vehicles to the apartment - which was done in like an hour and a half. We had pizza, and then I was in my apartment. I was free.

Stipulations on being in the apartment of course. That was a ...thing. Friday I’d already been very flustered about money - not just because he was expecting half the house payment (or as near as I could muster) but because the perfect apartment was slipping through my fingers. I didn’t know if I’d have enough money for the deposit and then my parents helped me with that (which was AMAZING). And then they told me I needed the rent up front for me to move in. The rent I didn’t have because I didn’t know it would be needed up front. I should have known but I’ve never lived in an apartment owned by a company before so I had no idea. I was scared that because I didn’t have the money to be able to do the rent AND the electric by monday, AND he was forcing me to give him the money, I wouldn’t be able to live in the apartment that seemed so perfect.

I was able to work out a deal with the company - As long as the electric was in my name by monday, and I had the account number, I could get in without ahving the rent there as well AS LONG AS I had it by my next paycheck. Then the next months rent would HAVE to be on time. Perfect! I said, I can do that. I was on top of the world. I could do ANYTHING.

Which was going to be fine, except. then the past three weeks happened. Depression hit hard and it hit fast. I knew it was coming - of course it was coming - I’ve lived with it my whole life. And now it had something to feed off of.

I don’t get to sleep well, and when I’m asleep I’m ASLEEP. Slept almost 14 hours last saturday night into Sunday morning. Waking up is as hard as getting to sleep and I don’t have the motivation to get from my room to the kitchen. I spent the first week playing video games thinking “oh I just need time to get accustomed to my new space, that’s all this is”. I unpacked some. I decorated some. I got groceries. I made food.

I stopped playing video games. I stopped watching my tv shows. I’ve pretty much just been in bed for 3 days now. I didn’t even eat anything yesterday and today was...not great dietary wise.

And I don’t have money. My parents are able to help me this month with rent but I HAVE to get back to work. I’ve GOT to get out and be outside. at least outside.

I have to do these things because I don’t have other options anymore.

Anyway. that’s the story as far as I can go right now. I’ve probably left shit out. I’m tired though. The cats...talking about the boys took a lot out of me. I’m really fucking upset about them. But...one day it won’t hurt nearly as much and maybe one day I can acquire a pirate kitty. or maybe another kitty who needs love. an older one because they need the snuggles.

Idk i can’t think about that right now. I have to be able to feed myself properly before I acquire any other living creature to take care of. I’ve proven I can’t keep up with the responsibility, or I wouldn’t be in this situation.

#update #life update #in case you were curious anyway

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