#that nobody *really* likes me or wants me around and I'd just be imposing myself where I'm not wanted

[funeralprocessor]

_

[val-writesstuff]

Silent song

prologue 

Summary: Joining the Avengers isn't something you ever wanted to do, but Fury thinks it'll be a good thing for you.

Words: 950+

A/N: This is sorta a prologue since it's so short. I haven't posted or written in a hot minute so I'm a bit rusty but I hope y'all like this! im gonna try to make this a series, we’ll see if my brain allows that. Also huge thanks and name credit goes to @poetic-fiasco for helping me out

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~~

I shifted the bag higher on my shoulder as I stared up at the imposing building in front of me. Blinking the rain out of my eyes, I decided today wasn't the day and turned around to leave. Unfortunately for me, at that moment a black SUV pulled up and out slid Fury in a surprisingly nice suit. I don't think I've ever seen him in anything other than his huge leather trench coat. I struggled to hold in a chuckle as the large man practically ran to duck under the awning of the building.��

"Who are you and what have you done to the Nick I know?" I grinned and nudged him when I caught up. 

"I have a government meeting today. I only came cause I had a feeling you'd try to slither out of this. Looks like I was right." With a smirk, he opened the front door and shoved me in. 

"I don't slither Fury. I'm not a snake, and you know I think this is a bad idea. Horrible really. My skills won't be helpful to anybody here." I pushed back against his hand and ground my feet into the floor. 

"Listen." He took a step back to look me in the eyes and crossed his arms. "Part of my meeting today is trying to convince ignorant government officials that we don't need a registry for people like you. I really need you to do good here. It'll help my argument." 

"First of all Nicholas, there is nobody like me. You know I've been searching long enough to know that I'm alone in this world. Second, if you getting me to join this team was just to prove something to the government, it was a stupid idea."

"No. I wanted you to join this team because I think it will do you, and them, some good. You need people you can trust to have your back, and they don't know it yet but they need your skills. Now let's go. Try not to seduce anyone."

~~~~

I let out a sigh as I dropped myself into a chair near the door of the conference room Fury had led me to. Fury had immediately begun whisper arguing with a man easily recognizable as Tony Stark at the head of the table. I took this moment to take a look at the few other people in the room. Across the table sat two men, one was possibly sculpted by gods but he was glaring at me like I did something horrible to him, I mean if looks could kill… 

The other guy seemed to have no clue I existed. He was talking animatedly to the glare master, waving his hands and grinning the whole time. 

I moved my gaze to the only other woman in the room. The gorgeous redhead was watching Nick's argument intently and with a hint of a smirk on her lips. I wondered if that was her natural color. 

I looked back over at where Nick was still arguing with a now red-faced Tony Stark. This conversation about if I'd join had gone on too long, especially since I hadn't been a part of it. I stood up and leaned forward, resting the palms of my hands on the table. “Listen, Fury obviously my being here isn't what anybody wanted.” I shot a return glare at the guy who finally had the decency to turn away. ”Maybe I should just go?”

Fury frowned as he and Stark turned to look at me. “You’re not leaving. Stark here just doesn't like to share his toys with others.”

I batted my lashes and smiled sweetly as Fury's eyes clouded over. “Nick, Let me go. It’s probably better for everybody if I'm not a part of all this.”

Nick stood with a dopey smile on his face for a few moments before he shook his head and frowned at me. “No! You’re part of this team now and that's the end of the story. And what have I said about you doing that to me? Not cool.”

I shrugged an apology and sunk back down in my chair as Fury left. Tony introduced me to the others using weird nicknames. Manchurian candidate, pigeon, and spy. Tony was odd, and not that helpful. After the briefest of intros, he left the room with a half-ass apology about working on something. 

The guy who had been waving his hands while talking earlier had been kind enough to provide me with the three’s actual names. Then he grinned and leaned towards me. "So what are you?”

“Excuse me?” Who the hell meets somebody and the first thing you say to them is what are you? 

“Well, Fury put you here for a reason. We’ve already got gods, a witch, a sorcerer, super soldiers, bug heroes, and assassins. So what are you?” He looked almost as excited as a kid on Christmas.

"If I tell you I'm not human, is that enough?" something about what I said made 'Bucky' scoff and roll his eyes at me. What is his problem with me? And does being human or not matter to these people?

“Mysterious huh? I’m gonna find out what you are, even if I have to steal your file to do so." 

Shit. Was that even in my file? Fury said he'd agree to keep it secret but did that apply to something like this? Maybe it was stamped in giant red letters across the front page. I tried to suppress a shudder as I muttered a sure.   

With that worrisome interaction still on my mind, I quickly excused myself to go in search of my room after a long day. 

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[mechanical-sunchild]

Actually, I'd like to express my experiences as an alterhuman who was previously antikin. I'd also like to hear from others like this, as I'm sure I'm not alone.

Now, I've known I was a werewolf since I was <8 and an android since I was <13 (or thereabouts). I was not online at these times. So they were just things I felt to be true and kept within myself, except amongst others who were acceptably 'weird' enough to allow me to be 'weird' too.

Even so, I felt they thought I was messing around and not being serious, but to me, expressing that I was a werewolf (this was stronger than the android feelings for a long while) was just telling the truth and it felt good to get it out. It was a similar feeling to what would later happen when I came out as trans. It was about truth of the self.

At this time I also latched deeply onto a lot of fictional characters (none of these would turn out to be kintypes, btw) in a way that may be described as constellic or fictionflickers or otherhearted or some combination of all of these.

Then I did get online. But still I had no idea what 'otherkin' was. Then I got onto Tumblr and I learnt about otherkin, but as it turned out, in the worst way. I learnt because of a blog dedicated to posting 'otherkin cringe'. It showcased only the wildest stuff, the horror stories of the most inappropriate behaviours and logical dissections of why otherkin was bad and why it wasn't what they said it was.

You know the arguments. The point was, as my first exposure, they all sounded really logical and so I believed them. There seemed no shortage of 'bad and cringe' things being done and said by otherkin. At one point I was even convinced that 'otherkin = bad but therians are okay' because of the more spiritual aspect I thought therianthropy had. It made sense at the time. The point is, I became very vehemently antikin.

Not 'go out of my way to harrass otherkin' antikin, but 'long posts and rants on why nobody can be/should be kin' antikin for sure. Very cringe.

All the while I convinced myself that my feelings of being a werewolf and android were different to what otherkin were going through. I didn't bother to try and learn more, because I disagreed with the spiritual and metaphysical aspects I'd already heard and was too bogged down by the ideology against otherkin I'd already absorbed.

And because I had so many flickers and took on briefly so many fictional identities I imposed those feelings on everyone's kintypes. I believed obvious trolls. I believed otherkin were transphobic in their own dysphoria claims. I believed that mentally well people couldn't possibly have such beliefs. etc etc. They had me hook, line and sinker.

Then I met someone who I thought was cool, and they were otherkin, and I got talking to them and I realised how sincere their identity was and how much joy it brought to them to be able to be truly themselves. It reminded me of myself. I opened up about my own feelings and they were taken seriously, fully seriously, for once.

This was the start of a wonderful journey of piecing myself together. Some of them were old pieces that needed to be fully explored and some were newly awakened as time went on. I let myself explore my beliefs and feelings.

Now I realise that yeah, I'm likely what/who I am because of being ND but also I'm happy to state that I do believe that the essence of myself is eternally revolving, the me here is connected to many versions of myself in a non-linear fashion from many universes. So I am, will be, and have been all the things I am. I don't need these things to have evidence of being true because it's harmless for me to believe them.

Antikin still exist and we also have KFFers and it's in the same ballpark. Many will be people who just haven't had a good introduction to alterhumanism. Maybe they're alterhuman themselves, maybe not. I'm not saying give them any time and energy off your own back and waste your time on those who just don't want to hear. I'm just saying that if it feels like somebody is asking a question, even an obvious one, in good faith - your answer could be the start of some serious questioning on their part. I know it was for me.

[thedreadvampy]

like the thing about me, right. and I cannot emphasise this enough. is that I am extremely conventionally attractive in a very like "English rose" buxom Kate Winslet In Titanic kinda way. with the good bone structure and very balanced features and flawless porcelain skin and freckles and rosy cheeks and hourglass figure and thick soft hair and naturally great eyebrows.

And the only ways I am not conventionally attractive. are that I'm not thin, I'm over 25, I don't wear makeup with the intention of looking more attractive (only for Drag Reasons), and I dress and style myself in a way which is specifically focused on looking as gay, alternative, physically imposing, and weird as possible. and the thing is. nobody who I want to find me attractive actually thinks any of those things are negatives.

like yes sure I have insecurities out the wazoo. I don't think I'm as hot as my slim muscular friends who are slim and have angular faces and flat stomachs and are thin. because I Am Not Immune To Propaganda.

(also I'm gay and therefore VERY conscious of the amount of just DEVASTATINGLY beautiful women in the world like holy shit there are so many unconscionably gorgeous people just wandering down the street at the same time as me on any given day, with any number of ages, body shapes, facial features, styles and presentations, aesthetics, skin types and tones, hair types and styles, levels of performance of femininity, whatever. like goddamn. WOMEN. I am aware that I'm hot but do you guys KNOW HOW HOT WOMEN IN GENERAL ARE. and I HAVE types like impolitic as it is I don't think all women are equally beautiful or attractive but my god among the subset of women (and non-woman dykes) who I personally find strikingly beautiful there is so much variety and so many deviations from what we're told we collectively should find attractive that although I tear chunks out of myself for not being thin or ripped or tall or having full defined lips or a hard jaw or plastic-surgery-perky tits or doe eyes I do actually. know that none of those things are necessary for a woman or dyke to be hot, bc very few of the women or dykes I have found mindmeltingly beautiful have had all or necessarily any of those traits. like we're much readier to wholeheartedly apply mainstream cishet white thin patriarchal beauty standards ruthlessly to ourselves than to others. anyway I got distracted thinking about how hot women are. back to the post)

so the thing is I know I'm on the upper end of societal standards of feminine beauty, particularly laying aside my weight (and we all recognise, I hope, that no woman is ever considered thin enough) and the decisions I'm actively making in the direction of being less conventionally attractive, which for the most part is a Deliberate Choice I Knowingly Make rather than an accidental side effect.

but a) you're not allowed, particularly as a woman, to believe yourself to be beautiful, because that's seen as conceited and delusional and narcissistic even if it's empirically true and/or not particularly a thing you find validation in. and b) I personally am Not Allowed to think that I have any meaningfully notable positive traits without immediately walking that thought back hard and slapping myself with a series of Brain Sanctions for getting too uppity. this is because I have severe brain poisoning from an unknown source or sources.

all of which is to say that since I was a fairly small child it's been evident to me on some level that I'm. you know. pretty. as a child despite being a horrible gremlin who perpetually looked like I'd just fallen out of a tree into a jumble sale I was nevertheless consistently recieved as adorable and pretty. as a teenager and adult, despite being a weird kid who was a total social misfit, a good proportion of people around me, whether or not they knew or liked me, found me attractive, and when people tried to come for my looks the only message they ever really landed on was "you'd be so unbelievably hot if you didn't dress weird/do your hair weird/do your makeup badly/do gender things wrong BUT YOU RUINED IT".

like I KNOW I'm hot but I'm not ALLOWED to know I'm hot because that would be Bad. if people compliment my looks I get really embarrassed and uncomfortable and shrug them off. if I look in a mirror I start nitpicking my appearance.

HOWEVER. If someone calls me ugly all bets are off. And it's not like a defensive thing it is deeply felt. I never feel more sure in my looks than when someone tries to convince me I'm ugly. It's vain off the chain. Ego off the leash. Cause I know I'm beautiful and you just gave me permission to think that.

Took my assessment of my looks out of the hands of the People Pleasing Brain and gave it over to the Argument Brain and the Argument Brain? That brain has no compunctions about whether I'm allowed to know that I'm beautiful, clever and loveable. its job is to collect empirical data and provide evidence for a bulletproof argument and whole you can convince me I'm stupid, wrong, fallible, bigoted, short-sighted, unpleasant and a bitch based on cherry picked evidence, the empirical evidence just stacks up vastly in favour of other people agreeing that I'm hot, interesting and that they care about me.

you know. TL;Dr choose your anon hate carefully bc while conflict makes me crumble there are several lines of attack most anons choose which just causes me to gigamax into a steel wall of ego.

"I think you got this fact wrong due to unexamined bias" - GOD I'm the WORST I'm a MONSTER I can never JUSTIFY MY EXISTENCE

"haha you're ugly/sexually repulsive/unloveable" - haha bitch have you SEEN ME I'm the hottest and most adored fucker in this McDonalds

the thing is nothing makes me feel more secure in my appearance than anon hate calling me ugly

99% of the time I'm like. embroiled in all the usual worries about my looks and body. am I too fat is my jawline bad am I too short am I too tall is my posture weird do I have a moustache am I getting wrinkles why don't I look like the beautiful women I met on the street

then someone tries to tell me I'm ugly and it's an immediate boost bc my first reaction. every time. is BITCH ARE YOU KIDDING EVERYONE'S BEEN CREEPILY IN LOVE WITH ME SINCE I WAS 14 IF THERE'S ONE THING I KNOW ABOUT MYSELF IT'S THAT I'M EMPIRICALLY ATTRACTIVE. like look at my life of being immediately objectified and sexualised by every straight man I meet despite deliberately dressing like a weird goth dyke. has it been fun? no. has it been miserable and traumatic and left me feeling like my skills and personality take second fiddle to having big tits and a cute face? for sure! but am I ugly? LOOK AT MY PROFILE PICTURE M8 I'M A CERTIFIABLE SMOKESHOW. PEOPLE'S PARTNERS ARE THREATENED BY ME EVERYONE WANTS TO FUCK ME AND/OR BE ME. I'M ADORABLE.

don't send me anon hate commenting on my appearance, guys. It releases the ego beast. I'm SO HOT.

look at me fuckos

ADORABLE. YOU WISH YOU WERE THIS CUTE. it's a shame about my personality but you can't win em all.

[fal-carrington]

Back to you Pt.8

Pairing: KamilahxMc

Disclaimer: The characters are NOT mine they belong to PB.

Prompt: Relationships are build with love and patience, that's what Hayley used to be believe. Hayley and Kamilah dated for two years and half, and those years Hayley dedicated herself at the work to demolished the strong and old walls around Kamilah's heart. At one night, after a big fight, words spilled without thinking can be harsh and can destroy everything. Hayley ends up leaving the country and a regretted Kamilah behind. 7 years later when Hayley came back to New York, unexpected events can reunited them, bringing old strong feelings back. Now Kamilah has to get Hayley back, but how the vampire queen is going to do that?

Hayley’s pov

Kamilah’s penthouse

"...Kamilah, damn it!" I spat breathlessly looking directly into those beautiful brown eyes. I tried to lift myself, but with one hand, she pushed me against the sheets without difficulty. Kamilah smirked in response as I rolled my eyes in frustration.

I could feel the sweat running down my forehead, breathing hard, Kamilah was really making up for the last few years. We had been doing this for hours, and clearly she was not at all tired.

But there was something very sexy about her, an attractive-looking hell woman on top of me looking at me like that. Her shiny brown hair was messy, her social shirt was open, but she was not wearing a bra, just her black lacy panties. I could get a nice view of those breasts hidden by the shirt.

"Say it again," Kamilah whispered in my ear in a seductive voice that made the hairs on my arm twitch, she nibbled at my earlobe gently.

"Mmmm," I groaned in response. I bit my lips looking at the ropes that held me against the head of the bed.

Kamilah saw my hesitation, and with a smile, she ran her hand down my belly, her nails tickling every inch descending to my weak point. I groaned in response, closed my eyes, bit my lips and tried to avoid those words, but she did not stop with her movements, I did not know how long I could hold. "I... I love you." I let out softly.

"What? Repeat," she said with her lips on my neck.

"You heard very well!" I said.

"You're mistaken, for a moment I could not hear what you said," she said again, kissing and biting that area of ​​my neck lightly. Her fingers went back to me, I tried to let go again.

"I... I love you" I admitted for the fifteenth time only that night, but to her it did not seem to be enough.

"Great." She gave me a perfect satisfied smile, Kamilah kissed me hungrily. "Now say it again"

Kamilah’s pov

It was already nine o'clock in the morning, I should have been at work a long time ago. But I could not take my eyes off her, I drank my coffee looking at Hayley's. She was sleeping on my bed, curled up in my sheets. The smile was evident on my face with the memories of last night still fresh in my memory.

"Good morning," she said scratching one eye and lifting her head from the pillow. Her messy blond hair and bright green eyes studied me.

"Good morning," I replied.

"You were watching me sleep?" She asked.

I avoided looking into her eyes.

"I was afraid that you could runaway this morning."

“You are so cute sometimes” She laughed. "What time is it?" She looked around disoriented.

"Nine" I said giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Shit, shit!" Hayley searched for her clothes around the room. "I'm late for work, why did not you wake me up ?!"

"I did not want to. I like that view of you in my bed.” I said handing her a mug of coffee, she rolled her eyes and drank, squeezing the sheet around her body.

"Where's my pager?" She said.

I pointed to the nightstand. She let out a relieved sigh.

"At least you did not break like you did with my cell phone," she said taking him in her hands. "OH FUCK! They beep me countless times, my God!"

"Oh, I almost forgot," I said, and picked up the box that was next. "I told you I'd buy another one." I handed it to her. Hayley took the box from her cell phone and looked at me. "I asked my assistant to buy it earlier today."

"Thank you." She set the mug on the nightstand and hurriedly dressed in her clothes.

"Where are you going?"

"To work. By the way, you should be at work, right?” She said.

"I can call the driver there any minute. I was thinking of waiting for you to wake up so we could talk "

"Of course. What do you want to talk about?” She asked as she pulled on her boots. "About the tireless sex session last night? Or the fact that I cheated on my fiancé and that I'm the worst fiancée on the world? "

I bit my lip as I followed her out of the room.

I knew she could react that way, I can not deny that the thought did not come to mind that the first thing she would do was get up and runaway at the first opportunity she had.

Hayley picked up a donut that was on the breakfast table and took a bite. I leaned in and hugged from behind, memorizing her scent for more of those seconds left before she left.

"Kamilah..."

"Hayley, I think we should at least discuss the events of last night," I whispered in her ear. I could hear her beating rising.

"Kamilah, last night was incredible," she said. And I smiled involuntarily, she turned around so she could look at me. "I have not had such a wonderful evening since..."

"Seven years ago?" I guessed with frowning brows.

"It's... Something like that" she shrugged, a smile on her face

"Can I ask you something?" I asked with my eyes on her.

"Of course"

"Were you being honest last night?" I asked.

"I did not lie. I told the truth when I said that I love you.” She replied and I grinned. "I have to go to work." She took her purse and tossed it over her shoulder. "I do not regret anything," she said and I widened my eyes in surprise. "I've been wanting this since I came back. I'm a horrible person right? For want you and being engaged at the same time?"

I tried as hard as I could to hold back the smile. Finally be listening to her words for the first time in seven years in such a sincere and truthful way. She wanted me. Hayley smiled at me, her green eyes bright and a gorgeous smile on her face.

"Let's be bad together then." I touched her face. She kissed my hand. "Let's stay together for good. Nobody in the middle, not even... Scott "

"I have to sort things out with him. I'm going to talk to him today and tell him everything. Tell about us.” She said and I could tell she was being honest. "I owe it to him, at least."

"You love him"

"Yes, but I love you more. So much more" She took another bite of the donut and walked away. "You look good in black, by the way." She smiled, looking at my clothes. She stole a kiss from me and smiled going out the door.

I smiled involuntarily watching her walk away. For the first time in seven years I was able to feel complete by having her back there.

Hayley's pov

I ran out of the hospital wearing my white coat in a hurry, I was late and had not answered my pager, I was probably in trouble. But at least yesterday night yielded the countless scolding I would take today.

When I reached the hall of the cardiology center, I ran into the hospital chef with his arms crossed talking to a nurse. He stared at me with a serious expression on his face.

"I know I know. I'm super late, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry chef, I—"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"They beep me. Emergency.” I showed him the pager. "I need to go see what it is..."

"No, you do not. Did not your father talk to you? Your fiance's been in your office waiting for you an hour and a half. "

"What's going on?" I asked without understanding.

"Well, you two better figure out what it is," he said, touching my shoulder. Still not understanding, I pulled away and went to my office without understanding what was going on.

As I opened the door, I came across Scott sitting in a chair in front of my desk. He looked up from a picture frame when he saw me.

"Darling." He smiled and stood up to hug me. "I'm very sorry for our fight last night," he said with a regretful look.

"We can discuss this later, I have a patient to attend, and..." I said hastily.

"No you have not." He held the pager in his hand. "I'm the one who beep you."

At that moment I felt the heat on my face, I could not contain the anger.

"Scott!! This is not a toy! It could have been one of my ICU patients, do you have any idea of my despair?! "

"I know, but I needed to talk to you and you were not answering your phone. Not even Lily knew where you were!"

"I needed to think. I needed to take a breath and try to reflect on our relationship,” I said.

"Oh really? Were not you anywhere else?" He asked with both hands at his waist. "With a certain person in particular?" He looked at me suspiciously. “Kamilah?!”

I crossed my arms.

"What are you trying to impose? It does not matter where I was. I don’t know, maybe I was with Kamilah."

“So you were with her?" He looked at me in shock. “I can’t believe it”

I nodded. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.

"I thought we'd been through this, Hayley," he said angrily.

"Scott, I need to tell you something..." I tried to say. “Kamilah and I—“

"We'll talk about it after we get to London," he said.

"What? What are you trying to say?!"

"We're both going back to London. Tonight."

“What the hell?!”

"Your father has already made the necessary arrangements so that we could come back, and with the wedding coming later this month, I think this will the best for us. You loved London and came up against it, we're finally going back. As you wish.” He smiled.

"Are you kidding me?!" I asked in shock. "You can not be serious, Scott!"

"Why do you think I came?"

"To see me!"

"No, to finish the arrangements and I've already talked to the chief of the hospital in your absence."

"How you... I can not believe it's happening." I ran my hand through my hair and paced. "You did all this behind my back ?!"

"Your father—"

"It is logical. I knew he had a finger in it! I can not believe you came to my work and did all this behind my back. Do not you have the right to make decisions for me! This is my life not yours!"

"Our life!" He said. "When I asked you to marry me, and you accepted, I said that from that day on, we would be a team!"

"We can not be a team if you do not respect my choices and just play alone," I said angrily. "You respect my father's decisions, but not mine! But do you want to know? I'm going to London, I have something to say to my father, and I'm going back to New York"

"This has nothing to do with...?"

"Do not put Kamilah in the middle of it," I said angrily.

"What happened last night, Hayley ?!" He said with his arms folded.

I sighed and took a deep breath.

"Something that has changed everything."

[anime-will-kill-me]

2-3-22

Today, I'd like to put down my thoughts on the terrifying ordeal of being known. Those aren't my words, and I can't remember whose, but they are words that hit hard and ring true. Nearly everyone has a reason to hide their true self, and everyone has a personal and terrifying reason for it. The ones who don't, the ones who can share themselves openly with the world, I consider truly blessed.

Personally, I'm afraid of being known because I consider myself a terrible person, and I believe that people would reject and abandon me, and I know that it would break me. I can say it here, because I know my feelings aren't unique, and at least currently, no link can be made between this online presence and my actual person. Nobody here knows me, they know an entity online, that may or may not be me. I could be anyone. The blessing of anonymity.

It's my birthday soon, and I was terrified of the prospect of telling my parents, mostly my mom, that I don't want to celebrate it.

I hate my birthday. It's an agonizing reminder that I've done nothing noteworthy in the past year, that I'm wasting my time on this earth, and my complete lack of self worth just makes it depressing.

I don't like receiving gifts. I constantly think "I've done nothing to deserve this", and I can never truly appreciate the kindness of others because I'm blinded by my self imposed misery.

I don't like getting a lot of attention. The more people giving me attention, the closer someone may get to discovering the awful things about myself that I try to hide, which, as is the point I'm trying to make, is absolutely terrifying.

I didn't want to tell my mom, because I didn't want to have to explain these things to her. I don't want her to know the real me, because the real me is barely a shadow of her mental image of what I am. If she knew the real me, I don't think she could love me anymore.

I know that's an incredibly stupid thing to think. What kind of mother wouldn't love their child? But it happens. Parents reject their children, and drive them out, for all kinds of reasons. Even at 27, that thought terrifies me. Probably because I'm still, emotionally, a child.

The truly unfortunate part is that I can't bring myself to see her. Even with the facade I've built up, I've been avoiding her for a month. I'm going to see her tomorrow, and I'm scared. I'm going over to my parents house to help my dad fix some things around the house, but I know she's going to ask the same questions she always asks. The questions that terrify me. How are you doing? How's work? And my least favorite: anything interesting happening in your life?

There never is, mom. I'm the same as always. Depressed. Anxious. Feeling incompetent at work. Thinking my friends don't actually like me. Never having energy to do basic tasks. Decaying in my room because I don't think I deserve anything better than worst life has to offer. Really struggling to think I'm anything but a failure. A waste of space. A mistake that shouldn't have been born. A disgrace of a human being, unfit to be alive.

But I'll just say I'm doing fine. Work is good. Nothing interesting, but I like it that way.

What would she think if I had the courage to tell her the truth? What would any of my family think? Would my friends try to help me?

I don't know, and I'm terrified of the answers.