#tw dementia mentions

[arlecchinasmainblog]

More Epic Angst

It’s the middle of the night and shouting can be heard from the king’s chambers.

“Get your wretched hands off of me! I am done enacting your vile fantasies!”

It’s happening again.

“Odysseus, my king, my love, it is I, Penelope.”

But he couldn’t recognize that. Not now anyway.

“You are not! You are not! Cease veiling yourself as my wife you evil witch!”

Despite his wife’s gentle words, he couldn’t see her as he rocked in the fetal position; squinting his eyes shut as if he were a child hiding from an imaginary monster.

“Why must you take joy in tormenting me! I just want to go home! I just want to be home!”

The poor man cried in vain. And all his wife could do was weep. For she could not help her husband escape the prison of his confabulated captor. She could not free him from the prison of his own mind.

[halfdent]

𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸 𝚂𝙴𝙴 𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚂𝙴𝙴 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 . / 𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲 𝚅.

This verse is headcanon based / made by my own craft / divergent && non-specific to any particular director or focus on an individual film if anything it has no connection to any film other than I wish to use it as an adaptable piece for any Batman live action/cinematic universe .

The  verse  has  two  parts  :

|. We  begin  with  an  already  disfigured  Harvey  Dent  ,  fighting  to  keep  his  place  in  public  office  after  being  brutally  scarred  by  the  prosecuted  during  a  trial  .  The  office  is  destitute  to  refuse  him  to  continue  his  work  to  which  Harvey  refuses  to  resign  as  District  Attorney  .  The  law  is  all  he  has  .  Now  he  will  have  to  make  do  with  being  the  assistant  to  the  new  DA  taking  his  place  .

At  home  his  marriage  with  Gilda  is  failing  terribly  after  frequent  blackouts  and  discussions  ,  fights  and  arguments  Harvey  doesn't  even  remember  having  ,  most  of  the  time.  His  dreams  are  more  distorted  hearing  a  voice  he  has  known  since  being  a  boy  but  until  now  they  have  never  actually  spoken  to  one  another  just  the  voice  usually  speaking  to  him  with  no  open  discussion  .  The  voice  has  acted  on  Harvey's  behalf  before  ,  brutalizing  bullies  when  Harvey  was  young  but  he  was  certain  he  had  grown  out  of  HIM.  Until  now  .  HE  was  just  an  imaginary  friend  ,  or  so  the  therapists  had  claimed  ,  one  who  said  frightening  things  .  One  who  tried  to  warn  Harvey  that  '  Daddy  was  no  good  .  '  While  young  Harvey  remained  in  denial  to  his  father's  nature  .

Harvey  frequently  visits  his  father  in  the  care  home  ,  the  old  man  has  dementia  and  gives  Harvey  his  two-headed  coin.  Each  time  he  visits  his  father  the  old  man  would  mention  his  scar  .  Though  Harvey  would  seem  to  remember  a  entirely  different  scare  caused  by  the  old  man  .  Memories  he  had  long  forgotten  until  the  voice  had  started  reminding  him  ,  showing  him  in  dreams  .

Wrestling  with  his  own  demons  ,  fighting  to  save  his  career  and  marriage  he's  rapidly  unravelling  under  the  pressure  of  a  world  who  would  rather  treat  him  with  pity  or  like  something  to  ashamed  of  than  giving  him  a  chance  .  Eventually  being  made  redundant  when  he  lashes  out  at  the  new  District  Attorney  who  threatened  his  job  over  Harvey  catching  him  accepting  bribes  from  a  known  criminal  .

The  new  man  in  his  place  beats  him  to  a  pulp  and  his  infamous  associate  attempts  to  eliminate  the  potential  threat  to  their  plans  .  Getting  away  by  the  skin  of  his  teeth  ,  Dent  staggers  back  to  an  empty  home  he  finds  a  note  ;  Gilda  announcing  their  divorce  in  little  more  than  a  hand  scribbled  letter  in  black  and  white  .  Leaving  him  with  nothing  left  to  lose  .  So  he  begins  listening  to  that  voice  again  .

||.  With  everything  he  ever  worked  for  snatched  away  Harvey  and  Two-Face  have  no  choice  but  to  take  matters  into  their  own  hands  .  This  part  explores  the  transition  from  Gotham's  Apollo  to  villain  while  Harvey  exacts  revenge  and  attempts  to  expose  the  corrupted  District  Attorney  in  his  place  and  outmatch  those  who  forced  him  out  of  his  own  livelihood  by  beating  them  in  the  came  .  Eliminating  the  criminals  of  Gotham  though  with  a  sense  of  justice  he  gives  them  a  chance  that  no  one  ever  gave  him  .  The  coin  .  A  talisman  ,  Two-Face  would  remind  him  ,  that  his  father  would  use  to  determine  whether  or  not  young  Harvey  got  a  beating  or  was  sent  to  bed  every  night  .

This is subject to change and I left it vague so the gangs / rogues & characters within the verse can be interchangeable && adaptable . I'll reblog/leave updates whenever inevitable changes have been made but for now these are the bare bones .

[ajokeformur-ray]

I've worked in a care home for almost three years now and it still breaks my heart to hear residents on the dementia unit, in their 80s and 90s, call out for their parents.

It's even worse when they become lucid for a moment and start screaming because they remember their parents are dead and they have to grieve for the first time all over again.

Either situation is the soundtrack I have to listen to seven hours a day, and it's haunting.

[theoi-crow]

Hey there, hope you're doing well! This may be a little bit of a sensitive ask (tw pet death) so please feel free to ignore it, but I was wondering if there were any myths about what happens to our pets when they pass, and/or how to honor them. I was thinking of having a little mini altar for my dog, and to give dog treats as offerings, but I wasn't sure if that was proper. Thanks in advance!!

I'm so sorry for your loss…

The ancient Greeks and Romans loved their dogs a lot and although there aren't a lot of stories about dogs in ancient mythology, we've found a lot of graves and epithets written by grieving owners who had to bury their dogs. Here's an example of one:

"I am in tears, while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home in my own hands fifteen years ago."

Here are the rest: (LINK)

Here's a bit more on how the ancient Greeks cherished and loved their dogs. Plato even called them the greatest philosophers because they knew the difference between good and bad people: (LINK)

"The dog was a companion, protector, and hunter for the Greeks and the spiked collar…was invented by the Greeks to protect the necks of their canine friends from wolves." Source: (LINK)

So as you can see, dogs were very important to the ancient Greeks and they memorialized their dogs too so it's okay to put him on your altar. It won't be disrespectful and the gods will understand.

Here are examples of what they'd often look like:

To talk a bit more about my own grieving experience as a Hellenic polytheist and grieving my dog I hope it's okay if I tell you a bit about my own little dog who I lost this past March:

Mourning a dog is so hard because their love for us is so sincere and pure. They love fiercely and protect us as much as they can even when they're so much smaller than whoever they are challenging (my dog was a tiny Maltese Poodle but boy did that dog loved to bark and try to protect me.)

His death came a lot earlier than we expected, he got early onset doggy dementia also known as canine cognitive decline, which is very similar to human dementia.

He began to forget who we were and his health took a nosedive a few months before he passed. We chose to put him down before he got to the final stage (seizures) because as someone who grew up taking care of someone with seizures, I knew he was going to be in excruciating pain. But because he also had dementia he didn't know who we were so I knew he'd be very scared and in excruciating pain with less than a year to live.

Two weeks before his final appointment he lived like a king. He ate all his favorite foods and treats, watched Hamilton everyday (his favorite character was George Washington) and we had the vet come to our apartment so he would be very comfortable since he hated going to the vet.

The Aftermath:

Mourning the loss of a loved one is hard and although we're all familiar with feeling sadness when we grieve, no one ever talks about the guilt and rage that might come over you during your grieving process.

I was angry at my gods

I didn't even know why, I just was. I was mad at them, myself, my spouse, my school, my neighbors, I just wanted to be left alone. But because I was angry at my gods, my Catholic guilt kicked in and I felt guilty for being angry with my gods. I was spiraling because I was trying not to be angry and trying so hard to be sad instead.

But that's when Apollo showed up and I had an honest conversation with him about the guilt behind how I was grieving:

He told me that anger is a natural part of the mourning period. Not everyone will grieve the same but being angry with your gods is normal because when we lose someone who we loved so much there will be a flood of emotions that we didn't know we would feel and forcing them to express in only a sad way keeps you from truly processing your grief. My anger was a part of my grieving process, and so was my confusion and denial of having lost my dog. This was all normal.

I was so overwhelmed with my feelings of rage, guilt, and shame that we left home for a week so I could be away from my altar, my gods and from finding the many dog bones my dog hid before passing.

I desperately needed a break from my gods and they understood.

They weren't upset with me. They knew how much my dog meant to me and how much I loved him, so we left and I was able to process my emotions outside of my home. Prior to this I never understood why people in shows and movies needed to go on a trip when they suffered a loss but after my dog passed I was overwhelmed with the desire to be in nature. To be with Gaia, to be with Demeter. (Two gods I don't normally work with but I desperately needed)

It's okay to go through your own grieving process as it comes. To accept your feelings as they are.

It's okay to feel angry when you're grieving. It's also okay to be angry at your gods because they understand you're grieving. And finally, it's okay to memorialize your dog in whatever way brings you the most comfort.

My dog's little box sits on my altar. He gets his treats and has an electric candle we make sure never turns off. I often mentally see him sitting on Ares' lap or playing fetch with Hermes. He hangs out with my gods and I know my gods don't hold my grieving process against me. They know losing a dog was hard for the ancient Greeks and it's still hard for their modern followers because losing someone who loves you so unconditionally and accepts you for who you truly are without judgment is the hardest thing to do. I wanted to share this with you so you can grieve freely and honor your dog in whatever form brings you the most comfort. The gods understand and they will grieve with you & be there for you.

I personally believe all dogs go straight to the Elysian Fields because dogs are our greatest heroes.

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

One Minute of Silence (Based off of Everywhere at the End of Time)

Note: just some feelings and stuff I wanted to get out, lol (this isn’t a vent on my part necessarily, just some emotional writing, it’s not even in my perspective lol). This is based off of the project “Everywhere at the End of Time”, so major warnings for dementia, Alzheimer’s, grief, memory loss mentions, and death. Please read with caution— love y’all!!!

(p.s.— the “one minute of silence” won’t make sense unless you know the project, but you don’t have to listen to it to know, you can just look it up. Again, listen with caution 👍)

Your limbs are stiff and still; the robotic, dull movements of a man whose soul is long dead but whose body won’t accept it. It’s been so many years, so many years… Why are you still holding on?

Your memories are quickly fading into distorted static and distant space, blurred and hazy. How long have you been in the darkness?

Family, friends, lovers— you had them, right? Who were they? Why can’t you remember their names? 

Some people are fortunate enough to be left in the past, reliving their childhoods in the husk of a body they used to have. Why do you have to go back? You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve been here before.

Have you forgotten even how to speak kindly? Your words come out angry, harsh, twisted curses flying from a brain that’s long since lost its filter. You don’t mean it. They know you don’t mean it.

They miss you. Sometimes, they come to stay with you… did they visit today? For who should you be waiting to walk into the room?

A dull thumping noise breaks through the chaos. Is it God, knocking on your door to call you home? The nurse strides through the door, a bored look on her face and an orange bottle of pills in hand. It’s six p.m.— time for your memantine.

Of course they’re not coming to visit. They stopped showing up years ago, when you could no longer recognize their faces.

Did you know, when you were young and healthy, that it would come to this? Mama, Papa, every soul before you, none of them had to die alone. You can’t remember the names of the people who should be here, holding your hand. Your fingers are gnarled, scratched. You’re tired.

The pills don’t work. Nothing works. You’re a shell of who you used to be… who did you used to be? Will you ever be that person again, the one who knew who they were, knew where you were at and why you were there and the time of day and the name of your doctor and your favorite color and your favorite music and how you wanted to die.

A burst of clarity. Is it gone? Are you free? Finally, you remember, you know. Oh, what a joyous day, you want to go home—

One minute of silence. In memoriam.

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

08/14/2024

Tw: Depression, Caregiving, Dementia, Strokes, hospice, covid, mentions of physical and verbal abuse.

It's been quite a bit since I last been on here. I apologize for not being around a lot this year. I know most of you either thought i dissappeared or i gave up on this blog completely, i can understand both sides. 2024 has been hell for me, especially the last three months.

The man who raised me from the time I was 5 years old isn't doing well. His most recent stroke discovery was June 16th of this year. We took him to the ER because he was in extreme pain to the point he couldn't move. That's when my family found out he had a recent stroke that caused neglect on the left side of his body. He spent about a month total between the hospital and inpatient rehab to try to regain his mobility the best he could.

He got out on July 11th, with having at home physical and occupational therapy coming by multiple times a week. He was starting to do pretty well with using his left arm and leg but then came the lack of sleep and the moodswings.

The moodswings wasn't normal for him. He normally doesn't yell and berate me, my cousin, nor my mother. He was the kind of person who would cut the fool but wasn't verbally abusive towards his favorite women in his life. He has never called me a bad name in my entire life until he got back from. Hes never physically hurt me in my life until recently. It was as if there was a blank look on his face as he was pulling my hair for dear life. I know it's not him but it's still fucked me up to see this man that was my hero do such a thing.

It was so bad that we had to call emergency services on the 6th of this month because he wouldn't let us take him to the hospital to get him checked out for his breathing issues. He ended up having covid. We don't know where he got it from and at this point all we wanted was for him to get better. It was suggested to us to look into hospice care given how his agitation was worse than before and that it could be Dementia.

He got home this past Sunday with the original plan for my family to talk to a social worker that was in charge of the home therapy to get him back on and to explore further options with hospice.

Between Sunday and Monday morning before the representative arrived, he was forgetting who my mom and I were at one point. He barely ate any food. He wasn't doing well and we realized that it wasn't having covid. We decided that it was best to put him in home hospice and make whatever time he has left as peaceful as we could make it.

My hero was officially in hospice on Tuesday. It kills me to see him decline so quickly. This man was more of a father to me growing up compared to my biological father. Seeing him fade away in this way has been making me depressed for the past three months.

I've cried almost every day for the past three months. If I'm not crying, I disassociate into becoming completely numbed to everything. I barely sleep, I'm lucky to eat two meals a day, it's usually one meal and a small snack. I don't remember the last time I genuinely laughed or smiled. My under eyes were so red that it was extremely painful to cry but I couldn't stop tearing up.

In my gut, I doubt that he's going to make it by the end of this year. I know putting him in hospice is the best thing for him, he wouldn't want his favorite women to be going through this. I know he wouldn't want me to be this depressed, he would want me to enjoy the good times we had as a family.

I had a mental breakdown around my biological father to the point he was talking to me for half an hour to try to calm me down and console me the other day. I still haven't told my managers about what's going on yet because I honestly don't want to break down completely in front of them.

I'll try to be on the best I can to keep everyone updated with the occasional fic.

[villainous-redemption-au]

How did you meet dementia black hat

Note that Dementia was experimented on and lived in a test tube for the first 4 years of her time at Black Hat organizations, and she's been at BH. Org for 10 years. So she's been an actual member for 6 years

[rxtroskull]

//Okay, i’m going to be completely and openly honest about where the hell I have been for the past few months and why I haven’t been posting very frequently on tumblr.

I urge you to scroll away if you do not want to read, this is just me explaining my situation and why I have been inactive

Sorry for not explaining anything sooner but, my personal business is my personal business, and I choose whether or not to disclose it. I ask for no sympathy or condolences, but for patience and understanding for as so why I have been sporadic.

Trigger warning for mentions of death, dementia, and mentions of car accidents

My uncle and my nana both consecutively died in 2023 when I had started the fall semester. My nana having died in october, and my uncle having died in december, the day before christmas eve.

I was an absolute wreck when my Nana had passed away and when I found out I literally couldn’t function normally for weeks. On top of my Nana’s funeral I was also swamped with my fall semester’s finals. All but three of my teachers were not very understanding about me missing homework assignments due to my grief, I couldn’t even focus on mourning my Nana Agan because I had several things due and I couldn’t be caught slacking.

When winter break rolled around I thought I would be able to catch a break and work on writing to distract myself more (I was already trying to distract myself by talking to my discord friends and writing through there) but on december 23rd, my mother recieved news that my uncle, who had very recently gotten into a hit and run accident and got diagnosed with late stage dementia, died. In the time leading up to his death me and my family were being run ragged trying to take care of him. I had to learn to lock my doors at night due to the fact he would randomly barge in thinking me and my brother’s rooms were the bathroom or his room, and even before winter break and my big move-out in august, I’ve had to be wary in case my uncle decided to wake up in the middle of the night and refuse to go back to bed. My cousin (his son) had finally gotten him to a nursing home after my family had been driven absolutely insane, and not even a couple days after he was admitted, he died.

I couldn’t even cry at his funeral, that’s how spent I was after everything. I still tried to remain positive, tried to remain active, but everything kind of just fell by the wayside and I only remained active on the discords I frequented.

And now i’m here, in the last semester of my freshman year, acrambling to finish my spring finals with 29k in student loan debt with only a few things posted to my other blogs to prove that I’m not dead. It’s been a rough several months, but things are starting to get better. I’m trying to heal and get better so I can work on the things I love, so hopefully at least by May or June i’ll be able to come back here without many issues.

Thank you for sticking around, I love you guys, and I’ll be okay, I promise.

Be safe everyone.

[mynamesnotdahlia]

What is it going to be like when Simon gets to the later stages if he cant die!

This is something i was obsessed with when first coming up with everything. I think that Simon is immortal specifically in the way that he will keep going until something kills him, so he can be killed but he will not die a natural death yknow? I think that his immortality stops him from progressing to stage 7 because stage 7 of dementia is endstage, it is when your body is shutting down and getting ready to die practically so I don't think his immortal body Can really progress to that, but that doesn't mean he gets off scot free. It means that he gets stuck at stage 6 which is around where you would place Ice King if you were to prescribe Ice King to a stage of dementia, and he is Very Ice King reminiscent at this point, he's confused and can't remember very much besides very Very brief moments of lucidity, like Ice King had with moments like how his journals and newspapers are still noted to be wet with tears in "I Remember You" showing that Ice King at least for a moment understood their significance, but that's the clearest he ever got. Simon is very Ice King like and everyone around him can see that and when he is lucid however brief he can see it, I have only briefly mentioned it but Simon's PTSD around being Ice King doesn't treat him kindly with coping. The progression is slowed by his immortality so he stays in stage 4 for a decade or longer rather than a couple years, he is lucid for a pretty long time so he does have time to cope with this change but there's never going to be Enough time. Stage 5 also lasts quite a long time and then stage 6 is pretty much his wall, he doesn't progress to stage 7. Alzheimers is usually a life limiting condition but immortality throws that out the window.

He is still very very loved, as much/more than Ice King in later seasons was though. He's very different than his normal self and he has a lot of trouble with his symptoms (I have a lot of thoughts about sundowning and wandering for him) but he is able to be fairly content even if hes quite unsure where he is, or who these lovely people around him are. It's a good thing that quite a few people around him are also somewhat immortal like PB and Marcy.

[methylphenidatedreams]

my dream last night had multiple parts that were all scrambled together, but i'll try to tell it chronologically.

okay, so: the justice league were on a mission on a spaceship/satalite, which the robins running amok through the station. and by "robins" i mean they were literally all called robin and were there as even younger kids because the "main" robin, or the one that the justice league thought was the only robin was a fairly young jason. there was also two infants dressed up like robin that had gotten toted around through this mess in a hover/drone pram. the robins were supposed to have been planting explosives throughout the ship but had gotten into trouble and scattered. the justice league found jason tied up in wires, missing half his explosives, and with two babies hovering over him and batman just sighs. so loud.

okay, part two: the infants have grown up into kids now and are running around getting into adventures with doctor who. their mom is donna noble who is still missing her memories. one day she follows them into the tardis and manages to convince herself that it's actually just a themed elevator that takes her to different levels like in a haunted mansion. anyways the "level" she is taken to is a destroyed castle in the middle of a hellscape where she meets the doctor who is wearing a crown made out of candlesticks and holding a candelabra while being chased by a dragon, so he is then nicknamed "candlestick man" by donna.

she manages to get back her memories, probably because of something to do with the dragon's egg, but because her memory has been so tampered with she gets like, dementia i guess and won't be able to remember the context of big emotional moments with her kids. but it also might have something to do with the doctor because one time when she's trying to pick up the twins (who are probably off fighting crime with their siblings let's be real) but forgets where she was supposed to get them at and starts walking through the park looking for them and finds, near where the viewer (me) just saw something disappear from the area. anyways, donna walks along the edge of a hill and sees on the shadow a giant stickman made of ribbons pinned to the grass. she looks at the stickman and feels the same discomfort you feel looking at chalk outlines of bodies and she knows that A) something terrible has happened and B) the doctor was involved.

donna continues walking until the ridge flattens out again and there is a tent some distance away. donna crawls into the tent and sees it's empty, but feels that if she keeps going all the way to the back she will find something or someone that's hidden in space and time. she keeps crawling but feels something grab her ankle and yank her back but i woke up before i could find out what it was

misc parts of the dream:

-the doctor had heart problems and went to a hospital that specifically treated space or magic related ailments

-a one point the robins (including the twins) decided to climb into cages so the 13th doctor could kick them around an abandoned department store because that's fun i guess?

-it was 13 who was in the tent in another time

-in the dragon hellscape there was screaming out in pain. his name was Abraham A something but he went by abe. he was of pakistani decent and some british government agency was using him to track down the doctor. at first he had done so willingly but now he regretted it and wanted to help the doctor and the nobles

-i don't know what the twins names and genders are (i thought they were a boy and a girl but the doctor liked to refer to them as "the girls!"). but they both had brown hair and light skin. there was one with a ponytail who was taller than the one with short hair.

-if i remember anything else i'll add it

[inxthexshadowxofxdeath]

(Amar Chadha-Patel) [THE CONSTANT]. Please welcome [Raj Aiyangar (HE/HIM)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [36]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [THE COMMUNE]. You may see them around working as a [ASSISTANT FUNERAL HOME DIRECTOR]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

Thinking, feeling 'What is this, what did I miss?'

Full Name: Raj Jayant Aiyangar Nicknames/Aliases: N/A DOB: 08/24/1986 (Virgo) Birthplace: Huntsville, WV Orientation: Pansexual, Panromantic

Sometimes I wish I had control...

Raj was born the youngest child of your typical middle class family in a small town one over from Huntsville. Was he a... surprise? Yes. And boy does he know it. His older siblings were double digits by the time he came around, and his parents were not exactly excited to have another baby in the house. Not to mention, by the time he was old enough to actual try and have a good relationship with his siblings they were off to college, leaving Raj feeling like an afterthought for most of his adolescence. He didn't get the 'baby of the house' treatment that most younger siblings get, and maybe he resents his parents for this. It wasn't his fault they fucked up and got pregnant but it always felt that way.

While his family didn't live in the funeral parlor they ran, Raj was there almost constantly as a kid. And when he wasn't counting ceiling tiles his parents were passing him off to extracurricular activities so he wouldn't be in the way. He was always too loud, or too silly, or not smart enough even though he excelled at school and at the various hobbies they forced on him. He knows how to play piano and viola, can sing, was a straight A student, was well liked with his classmates and stayed out of (enough) trouble. He was a good kid if a bit of a handful. Smoked weed only sometimes. Got in trouble with his teachers never. Whether his parents ever acknowledged that was up for debate and is a point of contention to this day.

Raj always day-dreamed of leaving. But wasn't given much time to ever consider what his life might be like outside of WV (considering the moment he was old enough to help at the funeral home that was how he spent his evenings and weekends).

So his brother and sister could go off and live whatever life they wanted. And Raj had to stay here. And hang around with dead people.

Sweet.

Fear is in the mind...

Something of an ambivert, if there was any silver lining to his situation it was the people he grew up with. All things considered, Raj liked helping folks, and he had always been more personable and comforting than his father was when it came to grieving families. It wasn't like there was a lot of brown people walking around their area, and still Raj was always met with surprise when he told people he was Harish's boy. Raj was everyone's buddy, he was funny and charming and easy to talk to. It made the unfortunate situation he so often met people under easier for everyone and, somehow, he managed to thrive.

He had taken over the funeral home for his father in his mid twenties -- earlier than he'd hoped for but his father's dementia took up all of his mother's time. And he knew how to run the funeral home. It was the final nail in the coffin for him (pun absolutely intended), tethering him to his small town for the foreseeable future. He had to be ok with that. As strained a relationship he had with his parents, who else was going to take care of things? He ran his family's funeral home smoothly, the only change being their feud with their major competition in Huntsville. His father had always been rivals with Bruno, but Raj found he had little time for it. Huntsville became an afterthought, until a couple years later when he stopped hearing from Bruno at all and his own business started to boom due to the lack of competition.

Raj assumed they fell victim to the same fate many small businesses in forgotten towns did: they couldn't afford it. But it was curious how sudden it all seemed to happen, and after trying to reach out to the family he knew since childhood multiple times without answer Raj ignored his parent's wishes and made the short drive to Huntsville to check on them. Little did he know that what his father called his bleeding heart would literally trap him there.

It was terrifying to see the state of things, but quickly offered his services to Bruno who at the time was overrun with death from the paradox. You never really want to be busy at a funeral home, but this was Huntsville. And for that first year there, Raj was pulling multi-day all nighters just to keep up with how much death plague the early years of the paradox. He was exhausted, barely could keep his eyes open, so concerned with taking care of everyone else, concerned about his parents, angry no one had come to look for him, and grieving all of the loss he forgot to take care of himself. After a few days without sleep, the hallucinations started. It made focusing hard. Or functioning. And it was this lack of sound thinking that ended Raj outside in the cemetery later than he should have been.

Dulled down by a blunted scream...

The memories of that night are hurried and blurred, drunk on lack of sleep and terror. All he remembers is rain and how running, sprinting for his life, made his head pound. He remembers the laugh more than anything. And he remembers thinking:

'Is this how I die? Am I going to die in Huntsville?'

And how tragic that would have been for someone who only ever dreamed of getting the fuck out.

This was back when mass graves were far too common. Raj knew where they all were, he organized them, and still rolled his ankle, falling down into a large grave he helped dig only a few days ago and hitting his head off the sharp edge of an exposed rock on the way down. Funny. How falling into a grave could save your life. At the very least he was unconscious when the bodies fell and blanketed him, and the monsters, successfully tricked, passed him over.

Raj woke up later, buried under corpses. He had to force himself to keep from gagging knowing that any semblance of movement, or sound, or too heavy of a breath would be his death wish. The only option was to lay there, prone, and wait until sunrise. And like so much of Raj's life he did what he had to do. He stayed still in a giant wet, muddy grave. For no other reason other than 'he had to.'

While he doesn't remember much of the morning after, he does remember the stench of decay -- how it stuck to his skin and his clothes -- and how tacky the blood against his temple and down the side of his face felt, and how his hands were caked with dirt and mud. It was an overwhelming, horrifying sensory experience that he'll never forget. After that, forming new memories was near impossible, his head injury causing a kind of anterograde amnesia he had to constantly remind himself he had. The first couple of years were rough. He was frustrated more than he wasn't and felt very alone. He should have died. He knows that. And there is a guilt he keeps private about how, sometimes, he wonders if living a life of sticky notes and phone reminders is really worth it.

His amnesia has gotten better after time. But he still can't help but be hard on himself more often than he isn't.

I don't want to think anymore…

Fun Facts…

-Raj suffers from horrible night terrors from the night of his injury. Everything before late 2012-early 2013 he remembers clearly.

-For a while after his accident he stayed in an apartment with Zach which was a horrible mistake and high-key ruined their relationship. After which he moved into the commune refusing to move in with his parents (for a number or reasons, not wanting to be even more of a burden on his mother considering she was already his father's full time care taker one of them).

-It was Fern who he stumbled into the next morning, covered in dirt. He never told her what happened.

-Come to think of it I don't think he's told anyone what happened that night.

-He keeps meticulous notes and files them all away in multiple places. He will kick his amnesia's ass behind the dumper in the denny's parking lot at 2am. He is very high functioning despite everything.

-He is such a good friend. He gives the best hugs, he's great at hyping you up or talking you off ledges, he will stick up for the people he cares about vocally and unapologetically. He's sweet, and caring, and gives great advice. (And you know what? He's a great lay. Honestly, jack of all trades, over achiever, bay-bee!)

-Sleeps around quite a bit so he doesn't have to stay at the commune which he often finds suffocating. I don't think he and Sunflower got along all too well.

-He'll also sleep at work sometimes but will never make the same mistake of over working himself again.

-His amnesia has gotten better over the past decade and those who know him will have been able to see that progress. Still, he struggles to form lasting new relationships (though he puts a lot of effort into trying)

-He has one niece, Aish, who he adores. He is vodka auntie, no further questions.

Possible connections…

- Past hook-ups

-Childhood friends!

-New friendships he's trying to maintain

-Anyone from the commune

-His older siblings (note his older sister is a lawyer and the mother of his niece, penned by Ryan. If you’re interested in bringing here we can all chat about it!

[minusgangtime]

(Regarding the RP between me and @/ask-shelby-and-her-kitty-cats, just a reminder that we are not poking fun of the situation nor we are romanticizing it. Dementia is a very serious disorder in real life and there is no actual cure for it)

(So please don't take it the wrong way (either at me and the mod of Shelby) Ó.Ò)

[cxldblxxded]

just learned that my grandma died today so. i’ll probably be here to do drafts and silly shit to keep myself busy but if i don’t respond to messages right away that’s why 👍🏽

[ajokeformur-ray]

Yeah so if someone tells you they're worried they're displaying signs of early onset dementia because they had a clumsy five minutes, don't then tell them how they can prevent it happening and send them links to preventative articles... Tell them to breathe, they just had a silly moment, bodys are weird, and they're okay... Or they'll sit in their room sobbing too scared to ask anyone for help so instead they write this text post hoping someone will help calm them down and now they're too scared to ask anyone anything so they just stew in their fear🙃

[cannot-copia]

Mental Health Check for the Ghesties! How we doin'?

uh

ive been better

ik i like never respond positively to these asks, I’m sorry whoever you are

but thank you for asking <3

also sorry to those who’ve tagged me in tag games the past while too, i do like them but between working for the past 14 days straight and some more not good things happening irl i have not had time to do them and now i probably won’t find them

[khrused-archived]

..my grandma passed away ln and I've been crying since ln and all this morning. I just don't know how much worse this can get. I feel like? I'm losing everything and everyone i loved and im having a hard time. So today...idk if ill be around. Or the rest of this week. Idk. My heart just rly hurts rn . I want to write and talk especially now but...jjst no promises, ok?