#so anxiety of aging and life milestones is pointless

[culmaer]

¶

[boogiewrites]

Mae Flowers Ch. 8

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Mae LeBlanc (OFC)

Summary: A modern, magical Alfie Solomons AU. Alfie takes Mae out to celebrate a milestone in her magical work. It turns into an evening of deep conversation and bonding, learning about one another.

Warnings/Tags: Language.Magic/Supernatural.FLUFF. Bonding. Talk of being soul mates. Support/Love. Talk of confidence issues and mild bad memories.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

“Go throw something on that makes you feel like celebratin’ and we’ll go out ‘n do just that.”

It was a simple enough request. But one Mae was having a hard time with. She watched the grass and soul gather in the antique tub's drain, washing the sweat from the sun off her warm brown skin. Wiggling her yellow-painted toes, she took a few deep breaths to ease the sense of anxiety building and give the many potted and ivy plants in the bathroom a good dose of co2.

She stood before her full-length mirror in her room whose colors all deep jewel tones made her feel at peace. A mix of malachite, amethyst, and a pop of color with citrine soothed her as she adjusted her dress. Mae wasn’t the “going out” type. Like most, she had a dress that had been dormant in her closet for ages. The one that you bought on a whim when you had some manic episode where you swore you’d start going out and dating and having fun like everyone said you should. But it just sat in the back of your closet. A reminder of money wasted and goals not met.

She frowned, her dark curls against her shoulders only covered by the thin straps of the bold red dress. Her hands moved across her body, a pudge to her stomach, her hips wide from her pear shape and her breasts barely enough to fill out the cups of the dress. It reminded her of the “hot girl” dresses in 90s movies from when she was younger. Cinched in a baby doll cut and the rest hugging her body in a way she was unfamiliar with showing off. Her denim cut-offs and a tank or shop t-shirt were her go to outfits. She never purposely dressed up to seem more attractive, it was function over fashion for her at this point in her life. The last time she’d gotten “dressed up” had been when Ruth and Nancy set her up with a “nice boy” from their church. What a bust that had been.

She let herself take a deep breath to gather what confidence she could and it only deflated into a sigh. She let her head fall back and made silent protests with clawed hands and an angry face before stomping and glaring at her reflection. Why couldn’t she just feel...good? She was a so-called powerful witch but all she saw looking back at her was an unsure girl. Not the confident woman she wished she was. Her chest aches a bit, a pit in her stomach as sadness came and went, flashes of failed attempts at dates and moments others killed her hard work at feeling confident in one single comment.

“Okay…” she exhaled forcefully. “This is as good as it’s going to get.” She flops her hands to her hips and decides maybe a cardigan would be an acceptable addition to the outfit. She could cover up a bit, but it wouldn’t look like she was trying to hide. Yeah. That’d work. She found comfort in the extra layer, adjusting it over her cleavage as she exited her bedroom.

Alfie stood relaxed and confident as always. He looked up to her, hazy blue eyes under a heavy brow of ginger tinged hair. He blinks slowly and watches her unsure movements. He could very literally see the dark haze of uncertainty around her but only a blind man couldn’t see how shy she felt.

“Why’ve ya got a sweater on? It’s blazin' out.” Alfie asks with a furrowed brow as he sees her usually sunny disposition missing.

“If you think it’s hot now I have some bad news about the summers in the south.” she answers back, a clear deflection.

“I know it’s hot enough to melt ya bollocks to your leg down ‘ere but that’s not what I asked now was it?”

Her face falls into a defensive expression. “It’s part of the outfit.” she says and averts her eyes from his.

“Mae. Now, what would be the point in lying to me? When I don’t even have to get into that noggin of yours to read it.”

“None I guess.”

“So why are ya?”

“Because I don’t wanna get into it,” she states with an attitude-filled head shake. “I’m just trying to...get through this night out you wanted to do.”

“Nope.” he says with a clap of his hands and moves her over to the couch. He squats in front of her and stares her down. “We don’t lie to each other Mae. Not only is it pointless it serves no purpose for growth. And that’s why we’re together. So I’ll ask again.”

“Just read my mind if you wanna know so bad. Since you can just poof everything into existence without trying.” she snaps back.

“You’re acting like a teenager, Mae. You’re a grown woman.”

She glares at him because he’s right. “I’m wearing it because I want to hide. Is that what you want to hear?” she blurts out.

“The truth yes but I never want you to feel poorly.” he pats her knee. “Why?”

She huffs out, feeling her face be red with embarrassment and hurt and anger. “Because I don’t… I’ve never worn this and it’s tight and I’m not… I don’t wear things like this because it’s something hot girls wear and I’m not that.”

“No, you are not.”

His eyes blink and go wide at his response.

“You are a beautiful woman. Not some slaggy young thing. You are of substance. Of...principal and power.” He sees the tears prickle up in her eyes from her rush of emotions. “You also look lovely in that dress. Red suits you. It’s a shame a woman like you would lack confidence when you owe the world nothing. You gracing these mortals with your visage is a gift they do not deserve.”

“You’re just being full of shit now Alfie.” she groans.

“No. No Mae darling I am not. I said no lies did I not? I stand by that.” he raises her chin with his calloused index finger. “I understand that your big big soul is feeling lots of things in this little human body of yours. I know you’ve been hiding it from me and I commend you for trying to handle it all on your own. But the purpose of us existing my love is to NOT have to deal with these burdens alone. Now tell Alfie what is wrong so he may mend it.” he leans in to kiss her forehead and hug her. It was too much for her little heart to handle. “Let it out little one.” he shushes as she sniffles and pretends she doesn’t want to sob and wail.

“I just feel so… boring. So not confident and I don’t like what I see when I look in the mirror. Nothing is where I want it. I don’t look how I should. I don’t-” she hiccups and he wipes away her tears.

“Says who? Who told you you had to look any certain way? Some old rich white man behind a desk who doesn’t give a shit about you and only wants your sorrow to make more money off of things you don’t need based on self-hate? Who do these negative emotions serve eh? Not you. And you are all you have to be concerned with. You are as you are. As you are is how you should be. There is no “supposed to” in reality, Mae love. There is only a culture that hates women. And you are so very fuckin' far above their standards and expectations I cannot even begin to tell you. You are otherworldly. A soul full of sunshine and vulnerability. Things most humans hide from. You are growing and with that comes those damned waves of emotions. This is why we do the shadow work, yeah? We accept all parts of us, and release what no longer serves us? I’m not just talkin’ out me arse love. I promise.”

“You...really?” she sniffles.

“Not to force any standards of beauty upon you my darling little sunspot but you are the most beautiful soul I have ever encountered and will ever encounter. To me you are perfection and I hope one day to make you see that as well.”

She begins to cry again and he takes her back into his arms. “You’re so nice to me-ee-e.” she stutters.

“Only honest pet. You created life with your thoughts today Mae bug!” he squeezes her upper arms. “You are so powerful. And you’ve barely scratched the surface. Now let's dry those tears, right? Let’s take off this shroud of negativity you call a jumper.” he chuckles and takes it off her and then pats her cheeks with it.

“It’s a sweater you cockney bastard.” she lets out a giggle that he answers with an amused snort.

“There she is.” he bops her on the nose. “A smart mouth and cheeky disposition was something I always did favor in a woman.” he muses and helps her up from the couch. “And you are a clever little thing. Far too smart to feel so low about yourself.”

“Thank you.” she says quietly.

“Now chin up pumpkin. We are going to go out and have a wonderful time, yeah? Celebrate your progress and the simple fact it is a beautiful evening and we just so happen to exist at the same time. That’s enough cause for a drink and a good meal.”

“You’re… very good with words.” she says as he fusses with her curls and wipes away any running mascara from her eyes.

“Thank you. Ol’ cockney bastard like me has to have something going for him, eh?” he grins.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mae sat back and enjoyed the breeze in Alfie's antique car that resembled more of a boat to her. It was long, a bit excessive but it did suit him. Something quirky for a man that looked like some sort of mystical cult leader in dress and charm. He could feel the calm around them now. The late evening air humid but the breeze made it tolerable. With her head laid back in a nest of curls and her eyes closed the golden light of the sunset highlighted the round highs of her face. A round heart-shaped face with doll eyes and high cheek bones and a button nose sat in the middle of all the delicate softness. He smiles softly, glancing over and seeing her take in the day's last touch of sunlight as it sets.

“You seem to be doing better.” he speaks softly and pats her knee to break her from her half-hearted moment of meditation.

“I am.” She answers softly.

“You seem like the type to enjoy solitude and silence more than the company of others.”

“Yeah. When I was young I wanted to have ‘my’ people so bad. My own little group. But then I got used to being alone. Now I prefer it.”

“When other's lower vibrations drain your energy it’s hard to want to be around that. We can work on shielding. But tonight is about a good time. What is a good time for you Mae? What is that moment you just sit and relish in and appreciate?”

She tilts her head in thought. Blinking slowly she tries to find her happy place. “In the morning on Sundays. I’ve slept well and have the day off. I’ve got my favorite mug and I’m in my little spot in the sunroom. It’s raining and Percy is asleep on the bench. My music is playing in the kitchen. Outside is quiet and all you hear is the rain. You can forget you live around people on those mornings. Everything foggy and dewy and the sheets of rain run off the glass ceiling.” She lets out a content exhale. “That’s my favorite time.”

“Lovely innit. Life’s simple pleasures.” He mused and scratches his chin. “I believe I can work with that.” He nods. “I know a little hidden beer garden I believe you might enjoy. We'll go there.”

“A beer garden?”

“Yeah.” He says obviously and confused by the questioning inflection in her voice.

“What’s that?”

He turns and blinks rapidly at her for a moment before looking to the road. “You dont-?” His brows furrowed in question. “You don’t know what a beer garden is?”

“Would I be askin' if I did?”

He lets out a small snort of amusement. “‘Spose not. A pub-a bar outdoors. This one's in the old part of the city.”

“I don’t go there much because of the tourists.”

“No tourists where we’re going. Not exactly Bourbon street.”

“So an outside bar? Do they call those beer gardens? Weird.”

“Well, I think you not having tea in every restaurant is weird.”

“We got sweet tea.” She grins.

“We are not having this argument again Mae. That abomination is NOT tea. It’s sugar water in a cowboy hat.”

She lets out a giggle that warms him, recalling an almost argument on sweet tea and good British char one night before bed. Mae didn’t see what the big deal was. But she was promptly informed by Alfie it’s because she was a bloody yank so she never would.

————————-

The place he took her was off the beaten path. A small old white building with a courtyard in the middle with small iron tables and canopies. It was quiet and rustic and full of plants along the walls and in decorative planters. It felt green and wet and lush and alive and she felt oddly at home. A gentlemanly pulling out of her chair before he sat, his crystal pendants glinted in the sun around his neck. They lay at the edge of his vest, a dark and worn fabric over his usual worn in white button ups.

“Order whatever you like darlin' this is a treat for you.”

“I’m gonna order sweet tea.”

“Cheeky bugger.” he smirks and keeps his eyes on the menu.

“I’m not sure.” She says quietly.

“When I say order what you like I do mean you could order the whole fuckin' thing.”

She blinks and thinks a moment. “What if I actually did?” Her big curious eyes have a smile to them as she looks his way.

“I wouldn’t have to worry bout cookin' dinner for a tick then would I?” He answers with a playful nod her way. “I think I’ll go with seafood.” He says after a long pause. “No point in wastin' bein so close to the water eh? Perhaps calamari to start. Fried, of course, because you lot can’t just leave things be.”

“Never had that.”

“Hmmph. Guess you will be tonight.” He affirms with a nod.

“We could get the variety appetizer. I haven’t tried escargot either.”

“A day of firsts calls for a night of the same.” He declares confidently to her. “We are here for you Mae. Indulge.”

———————————

They sit among multiple plates and drinks, the frosted glass of the table growing cool as the sun sets and the garden lights and music turned on. A little candle was lit on the table for “ambiance” the waitress said with a wink. Mae tried to hide a blush but ALfie felt the ruffle of energy come from her and hid an amused smirk.

“Can I have some of your-?”

“Yes, of course, scoot ya bum over here.” Alfie chuckles and pulls her chair next to him. With their arms pushed together she lets out a small but audible content sigh. She continues to pick at his appetizers and he at hers. A vibrating calm between them as they touch.

“Nice innit?”

“It’s really good.” Her answer is muffled by the food in her mouth.

“The food is yes but not what I meant.”

“Wat.” She says with stuffed cheeks and wide questioning eyes.

“This.” He holds his hand out palm up on the table.

She looks at it and blinks.

In his head, he hears. “What the fuck?” And he laughs.

“Put your hand over mine Mae bug.” He chuckles as he holds her hand a few inches above his own. She holds in and swallows, she gives a small shiver in response. He touches his fingertips to hers.

“It tickles.” She giggles and slaps his hand.

“Not into tickling?”

She shrugs. “Not really? Not really had it done before.”

“How’s bout this?” He asks with a nod of his head, lacing their fingers together and resting

“Mmm.” She hums and smiles at him. “That you or the alcohol?”

“Can’t take credit completely. Can’t feel it myself without you.” He says it matter of factly but he feels the sentimental response like warm honey through his veins.

She studies his face a moment and then their hands, taking her time and connecting and disconnecting, tips then palms, moving to put as much skin to skin as she can. With their arms and shoulders pushed against one another, she speaks softly in realization, “It's when we touch.”

He makes a grunt of agreement. “What’s it feel like for you?” His curiosity gets the better of him.

“It’s...good.” She says after a pause.

“You can be more descriptive than that.” He scolds playfully.

“Than what’s it like for you?” She sass's back and takes a drink with her free hand.

“There was a place...long long ago I lived alone. Which is what I preferred. I got away from my old life, a pipe dream to be sure. But it was the happiest I had been before...this life. Feels like that relief. But without the loneliness.” He looks at her and she once again has tears in her eyes. “Oh come now love do your eyes ever dry?” He laughs and dabs at her cheeks.

“That’s better than I could ever put it.” She says and smiles. A sniffle and she squeezes back. “It’s our souls right? They missed each other this much? It’s like I feel warm down into my bones.”

“We missed you more than even my silver tongue can express.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve missed you too. Because this feels…” she smiles sweetly and puts her head on his shoulder, only feeling more contentment. “Feels right.”

“Like morning sunshine. Warm and dare, I admit,  happy.”

“Probably Like a good hug or like when Ruth makes me a pie when I’m sad.”

“I do suppose that would be rather good.”

“The best.” She smiles as she rests her cheek on him. “Man… people are missing out. This is like drugs.” She softly laughs.

“Why did you say it's probably like a good hug? Odd way to put it.”

“Well… people say hugs from people you love or miss are the best.” She pauses. “But I don’t know that I’ve ever had one of those.” She admits.

“I admit I don’t know how you aren’t beloved by everyone. A sunspot like yourself should know of everything good and pleasurable in life. You deserve only the best Mae. And if I can help it I’ll help you feel the love you’ve deserved. Show you how to open up. You are a white witch after all, you radiate love.”

“Guess it’s all going out and not stayin' in” she mumbles and gives him a half-smile. It was a rather good observation.

“So many things you haven’t done yet” Alfie muses as he feels her inexperience in her thoughts.

“I can… feel you up in there.” She pulls away and shakes her head, curls bouncing. She shivers. “That’s so strange I can… feel you in there now.”

“You’re learning how to.”

“It kinda… feels like you’re scratching an itch in my brain.”

“Because I mean no harm, only help.”

“Does it hurt if a bad person is trying to get in my head?”

“For a sensitive little bean like yourself, I would assume so. It’s all about intention. As I’ve said. I see loneliness and fear of missing out and I want to alleviate it. So with good intention brings good feeling.”

“What are you seeing?”

“I don’t want to upset you, darling.”

“It’s my head it won’t upset me.” she snorts.

“I see you alone at a school dance. On the bleachers. Watching everyone else dance together.”

“Yeah. That is a bit upsetting.” She shrugs. “But a long time ago.”

“It was...the first time you felt a real romantic rejection and alienation.” He squints his eyes as he saw a small underdeveloped Mae in an out of style hand me down dress hiding tears as a boy she thought might’ve liked her looked at her and laughed with his date that was the opposite of what she looked like.

“Yeah… it got easier after that.”

“Shutting out everyone else isn’t easier Mae it’s self-sabotage.”

“Well.” She says thoughtfully. “It made it hurt less.”

He looks down at her with understanding. She was so full of life and emotion and she was robbing herself from fear and it made him sad for a moment to see her potential being stunted due to the hateful actions of others. “I’m here to show you how to master your emotions to unlock your potential, love.”

“That sounds...exhausting.” She looks down at his hand and rubs its embrace with her thumb.

“Nah. We can start small.” He insists with a look around. “Let’s start by checkin' something off your list.” He implores as he begins to rise.

“Like what?”

“I’m going to give you that dance.” He states obviously

“I don’t...I’m not a dancer.”

“Neither am I?” He laughs. “It’s about the experience. With it grows your confidence. It’s simple, I’ll show you.”

“I know HOW I just…” she glances around. “I don’t wanna in front of people.” She whispers

“I can fix that. Make it so no one notices us.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do most things you could ever imagine.” She looks around the small courtyard and weighs her options. He stood with a steady hand outreached .”I could even SHOUT ABOUT HOW ICED TEA IS SHIT...and no one can hear.” He grins.

Her eyes go wide but see's no one even glances their way as she rises to her feet. “Are we invisible?”

“No, just an illusion of the mind.”

“Can I be invisible?” She asks as he pulls her to the open center of the patio space.

“I can show you how to be very elusive. Although I don’t know why you would want to be.”

“Because I’m shy. Crippled with anxiety. Full of trauma. Where do you want to start?” She answers honestly but with a chuckle.

“We’ll start with this.” He pulls her close and minds his hands to keep it PG. She was skittish enough without adding physical affection to the mix.

She slowly gives in to his affectionate embrace. A simple back and forth and distanced as she’d wanted in her memory. He can feel the remnants of hurt the memory left around her, her yellow energy turning blue. “I know it means nothing when a man says these sorts of things, and only time will prove it to be true but you don’t have to worry about me rejecting your true self Mae. You do know that?” She looks up at him, knowing she must’ve been very bad at hiding her fear. “As cliche as it is we were made for each other and I have no intentions of abandoning this partnership.” He pauses and she lets out a heavy sigh. “I know love it seems like everyone has left you that’s said that. But I won’t yeah?” He gives her cheek a gentle playful stroke.

“Thank you. For trying to help me.” She says softly, feeling a warmth that wasn’t from the summer evenings still wet heat. “For being nice while I’m… still all...fucky.” She grins and lets out a soft laugh. “I know I’m grown but I feel like such a child sometimes. I’m kinda glad you can read my mind because with feel like I don’t even know what’s going on in there sometimes.”

“You’re going through a...magical puberty Mae and you’re doing wonderfully. I only celebrate things worth it and today-and your work was. Excess innit? Folks like us aren’t meant to be about it. It’ll go to our heads.”

“Good thing I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Your powers are just beginning and you’ll grow as they do. You’ll come to understand yourself and the things you’ve been through as lessons. You have so much power within you little one you’ll be astounded one day looking back at your life before. We have so much to gain, and it’s worth these emotional outbursts your human self insists on having.”

“You make everything sound so fancy and purposeful.”

“It’s just the age and accent dear.” he grins.

“You’re very wise.” She insists with big soft eyes. “I’m glad you’re my person. I need someone to keep things straight like you do.” She leans in and hugs him but doesn’t pull away.

He smiles down at her, a flutter in his stomach for this small gentle creature being accepting of him despite the dark monstrosity he had fancied himself for so long. “You’re too kind Mae.” He places a kiss on her bouncy head of curls and settles into a comfortable embrace.

She sighs and surprisingly to him cozies up to his chest. “I like these Feel Good drugs” she grins as he holds his hand to her bareback with her head on his chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Course. Always will be.” they both feel it warm and encompassing them both. A moment of being on the same page and the barriers between them thin.

———

They stuffed themselves on seafood and local beef and ease was between them now that hadn’t existed before. A bit of honesty went a long way with Mae. Her nature was very trusting in general and optimistic, so Alfie's reassurance left her feeling much more relaxed than she had in a long while. Alford was practiced at restraint as Mae was not. So he could not only feel but see in her eyes as they parted for the night to go to their rooms that she didn’t want to separate. He found it very endearing of her to want him around. He would as always have her make her own choices in her own time. Make her ask for the things she wanted. So instead of making the giant step of sleeping in the same bed, platonically, mind you, he simply whispered a soft intention as she snuggled into her own bed and yearning for that comfort he gave her now.

“Sleep well little one and may the morning find you as sunny as it.”

She hears him in her head and sighs, a happy one this time.

“Goodnight Alfie.” She murmurs, trying to send the thought his way and not knowing if she succeeded. But she had.

@jaegeeeeer​  @brianaisasongbird​ @hardygal69​ @emerald-bijou​ @captstefanbrandt​ @coolgh0st​ @tinastarkandco​ @xstylishmileage​   ​ @peakys-mystic @likedovesinthewnd​

[angiekurosaki]

So,

I realized I haven’t talked about my last appointment with the doctor and it was 2 months ago, but I was so busy with uni and enjoying myself with the meds working more or less. You know, just learning what I like and what I don’t. It’s like getting to know yourself...

Anyway. That day I went with a bunch of questions written down in a paper to ask the doctor. I was ashamed but I asked. He answered most of them, some with many scientific terms that I didn’t get and some others in an easy way, I don’t know if he did it for me to not understand, I hope not. But it’s not like I feel totally comfortable with this doctor even though I must accept the meds worked pretty well and gave me some relief. I wish he had explained me better but at least I got some answers.

He said that my diagnosis so far is dysthymia/persistent depression, no longer social phobia as he said at the beginning and explained that even though I had anxiety as well, that doesn’t mean that anxiety is part of my diagnosis, but that anxiety it is part of every depressive episode. However, dysthymia is not a definite diagnosis and there’s no specific reason for it to occur. It could be something genetic, something that my system does itself or be triggered by certain circumstances.

Another mysterious illness to my list, aka scoliosis and allergies. Funny.

After leaving the appointment, I looked up info about it on the Internet and identified myself with most that I found.

It was nice to know what was wrong with me, finally. Maybe not wrong, but finding out that yes, my brain works differently and that I didn’t make it up. God, it wasn’t my fault!! Like losing a little of that guilt. Having a diagnosis makes me feel more certain but it doesn’t make anything easier.

With this condition, I may need meds only once a year, every two years, never again or permanent. I liked that more realistic perspective. I felt that starting to take meds didn’t make me weak and it is something I must do and need, at least, for now. Nevertheless, if dysthymia is what I really have, I’ll have to live with this my entire life (?).

However, I also said that I noticed myself feeling lower, comparing to when the meds were working really well and I was a little tired again, not feeling completely rested after sleeping. I was suggested a higher dose of antidepressants or to change them but I decided to continue with my current meds. I didn’t want to deal with the side effects as at the beginning and I was afraid the new meds were more expensive.

So, here I am.

So far, I’ve had depressive episodes, really bad. But something has changed. I don’t really know why but know I can recognize when I’m speaking rudely at me, I mean, one day I thought ‘god why are you so mean with you? that’s depression speaking to you, for goodness’ sake!’ and that’s something I couldn’t do before, in this way, it’s easier to stop believing my words. Guess that now I’m experiencing depression with a more typical way...

Lately, because of the depressive days and some others when I’ve felt really really bad, exhausted, anxious and more, I regret not accepting the new doses/meds as I was suggested. Let’s see what happens in my new appointment next Monday. It’s supposed that the doctor starts the withdrawal (is this the English word?) this time and I’m worried what’s gonna happen...

My therapy is going well I guess, I don’t know how they are supposed to be, I try. I fucking try every fucking single day. I do. The last time I went to therapy I felt awful and I felt that I wasted the session, but the psychologist was really supportive. Some days I get mad at me. Sometimes, shortly before the sessions of therapy, I get so frustrated and everything seems pointless that I don’t want to do anything anymore.

Some days I feel really messed up. Not mature for my age, unable to do many things, I see everyone else accomplishing several milestones, and I feel kinda bad, but thankfully I feel good trying. It feels nice.

Despite this, I’ve had good days. Liberating. Sadly though, I hadn’t been able to write as I’ve always wanted and I hope is something I could do soon.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Perhaps it makes me feel better. IDK.

Thanks for reading.

[a-w-k-o-h-a-w-n-o-h]

here’s some stuff i’ve been thinking about for a while.

i’m too permissive.

i’ve known this for a while, but i didn’t know there was a word for it until i took some stupid personality test last night while i was bored and trying not to fall asleep. i’m too permissive. i let people walk all over me. i will always drop everything at the drop of a hat for anyone, whether they ask me to or not, and i never seem to realise i’ve even done it until it becomes obvious i’ve given too much of myself to someone who definitely isn’t even aware how much i’m tripping myself up for them. then i find myself expecting too much from people. or maybe i just expect decency, i actually don’t know. what if i’m just giving too much? am i overwhelming? how could i possibly be overwhelming when i feel like the least exciting friend anybody could possibly have? no one seems to come to me with their problems. i do get it though. i’m insensitive, but i don’t mean to be. i didn’t used to be. i don’t know how to sit with other people’s emotions. i try to meet people halfway, but even then it feels fake to me. i don’t know how to relate and i don’t know how to be comforting, but i always try. it’s so weird to just observe what i should be feeling, rather than actually feeling it. i feel like a sociopath. am i?  but how could i be insensitive if i’m still too fucking permissive? how does that work? is that my way of trying to help? like hey, i don’t know how to let your emotions in, and i’m not good with words, but if you wanna hang out i’ll literally change my entire day this very second, we can do anything you want. am i just a crappy person?

i think i overwhelm my big sister. i’d never tell her because she’d just laugh at me (and so she should), but she’s genuinely one of my favourite people in the entire world. i look up to her. she’s my best friend. we’re so alike but so different, and my nephews are my entire heart. all i ever want to do with every spare minute i have is see them. looking in hindsight i know i must be a lot. i don’t ever want to annoy her, but i must be. sometimes i feel so helpless because i just want to go be an auntie for the day, i feel like it’s the only thing i’m good at, but she’ll ignore my messages or will just talk me down. i’d like to think i’m just being paranoid but my gut feeling has me tearing up right now. 

and here’s another thing... i’m permissive, but i’m private. i feel like i’ve known this for a long time. i can talk and talk and talk about mutual interests or whatever with people, but i feel like nobody really knows me. and i don’t know if i want them to. but then feeling like that is so fucking isolating. is it just because of distrust? is it because i know that absolutely fucking everything is temporary; is it pointless to let people in when i know that one day they’ll leave again? i think about that a lot. but am i sabotaging myself to think that way? but then sometimes, i find myself in this weird limbo of wanting people to know me but then feeling like it’s none of their business anyway. plus who’s bothered? who fucking cares? nothing matters. everything is temporary. i don’t know how to be even slightly invested in anyone else’s life, why should they care about mine? i don’t want them to.

but i still want people to take me seriously. i’m a hypocrite. i have a colleague at work who will sit and talk about all of her life problems, depression, anxiety, the whole lot, but she’s talking at me, not with me. it’s almost offensive to me that she must think my brain works the way that it should, when in reality i know that that isn’t the case at all. but then i don’t want her to know. i’m a hypocrite and i don’t know how to not be. sorry that i’m not a proper functioning adult with a domestic relationship and a house and kids, i guess i have it easy because that’s how brains work and you should always assume someone must have it all fine and fucking dandy if they appear ok by your judgement. right?

it’s the same way with my family too. they know the least about me, emotionally. i’m forever baffled by those that tell their family all their business. i was always baffled by people who came out to their family before they came out to their friends. i love my family more than anything in the world, i don’t fucking know why i don’t like to tell them anything. i guess it makes me more vulnerable, and i hate being vulnerable. and then because i see them all the time, that makes me known as vulnerable all the time.  but also, they’re pretty emotionally inept. that sounds like a joke but it absolutely isn’t. it’s dysfunctional and i’ve only really realised it as i’ve come into my early twenties. not once have my parents ever sat down with me to ask me how i’m doing. they never talked about anything of that nature with me. i don’t really know how it all fits in, but i feel like being around their miserable marriage as a kid and lots of emotions being hidden from us, it kind of traumatised me. and by ‘kind of’ i mean i’m now a completely dysfunctional and emotionally inept adult.

but this also applies to other things. they have never, ever, ever, ever told me that they’re proud of me. ever. i think i would probably laugh at them if they ever said it to me now, but because it’d be so awkward. what the fuck am i supposed to say? i didn’t realise how dysfunctional this is until i grew up and watched people my age hitting all these milestones and all their parents were so proud and loving and really emotionally invested in their kids’ success. i thought it was all cheesy stupid movie-like shit and it made me cringe. turns out functional families work like that and i’ve just never known about it. you’re supposed to tell your kids you’re proud of them, you’re supposed to praise them when they do something good.  my mum came to the school concerts i played at, but i always felt like she was there because she thought she had to be; not because she wanted to be. she would come, and she would watch, but it was never exciting. it kind of felt embarrassing. like, sorry mum, look, i’m up now, so you can leave soon, you did your job. i don’t think it’s my mum’s fault. maybe she was proud, but she never expressed it to me. most of the time i doubt it though, because i still do music to this day and i stop playing when i hear her come upstairs. if i don’t happen to hear her or if she does hear me playing, i might get a comment like “what are you trying to play now?”

i think my 22nd birthday will be one i’ll remember forever. me, my mum, my brother and my stepdad all ended up in somewhat of a deep conversation after some drinks (and yes, i did find it cringey and i feel like they did too) talking about us; my mum’s 4 kids. i guess i asked my mum what she was proud of us for, because i wanted to know, but i made out like it was supposed to be funny, like a challenge question or something. i remember she said she was proud of me for being a great auntie, which felt like a backhanded compliment. i kept asking her, still trying to make it funny, trying to get her to say something more about me. but she persisted. i remember thinking and kind of going over a reel in my head, like, “what about the school concerts she came to? what about when i got into 3 universities and got an unconditional offer from my first choice? what about my drawings? what about me travelling across the atlantic on my own, or coming out when i really wasn’t ready to?”

i remember briefly bringing up music, still acting like it was a joke. she said “yeah, you have a go at guitar” and i don’t think i’ll ever forget it. i’ve been playing around half my life and i was set back massively about three years ago after a wrist injury. i’m still catching up with myself, but my mum just thinks i’m shit at guitar. i’m not. i just don’t play classical rock or whatever the fuck, and i have a particular playing style and particular things i like to play. but she doesn’t get that. and i remember my stepdad joking “your mum doesn’t believe in you” and it was all supposed to be funny so i laughed and definitely told my mum that she doesn’t make me cry when someone joked that she was going to make me cry. i’m tearing up again writing this. 

i don’t even know where i’m going with this. everything’s just coming out all at once because i’m upsetting myself and now i’m thinking of more things to write about. so i will.

december 2nd 2020 20:05