#why am I crying in bed mourning the girl I was before cancer

[partlysunny15]

noah kahan’s music feels like someone is taking a chisel and breaking open my chest without permission

[cdrash13]

                           “And all at once, I came alive!” -Lauren Daigle 

You are capable of change. 

I’m going to do my best to summarize the most horrible moments in my life...and tell you how I got through them. This will be long and personal. Here we go :

I’ve always been in church. I remember attending with my parents and watching my mother as she softly prayed to herself. I admired how soft her features would become when in the presence of the Lord; how strong her faith is when faced with what appears to be a challenge a person should not be able to overcome.

I remember the glint in her eyes when she would reach out to my friends, love and a definite assurance that God loves them and has a plan for them. I remember how she would pat my head, gently running her fingers through my hair. She would smile sweetly at me, almost as if she had a secret that I wasn’t in on. 

“God’s gonna be with you through it all. He hears you. He sees you, He sees all. Don’t forget him in your heartache.” 

As a young child, I never fully understood why my mother would remind me of this regularly.  Deep in my bones, I knew that life required heartache and suffering to create character; I also understand that when walking in faith, you’re going to be attacked. Forever. I waited...and heartache did in fact come. 

My mother was diagnosed with Lymphoma. 

I was raped at 15. 

My father died of liver failure in 2016. 

My childhood friend committed suicide last year, 2018. 

I wailed, I wept and screamed. I begged God to hear me, I pleaded for Him to get me through this. Though I couldn’t see or hear Him...I knew He was there. You feel His presence in your bones, your entire being. I always felt Him there, in the depths of my heartache. 

“Be brave, my daughter. Keep going. You will not fail, for I am with you...”

I kept going...but it was not easy. It was hell actually. I can truthfully say, I walked through Hell, but I persevered. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Valley would end. I knew that my suffering would only make me into the person I needed when this all happened; I knew I was going to become a warrior. I’ve discovered that change can be both in an instant and a journey that requires years of work. I struggled, like so many before me to change. I look back to the girl I used to be three years ago, battle-worn and begging to be heard.

I am OFTEN told, even to this DAY...that I am an angry person. Let me ask you, friends, how would you react to my traumas? Be sincere with yourself, be honest with me.

                                               My Mothers Cancer.

My mother's cancer took up most of my life. I have a small family, close-knit and full of caretakers. We worked together, my father and I, as the three of us went up against the sickness that was trying to take my mother from us. I remember so many tears...I remember my parents trying to prepare me for the day they wouldn’t be here anymore; I remember asking God in anger, “Why are you letting this happen?”  I never heard anything. But I kept praying, we kept working together. And even though her cancer sadly went to stage four as of December of 2018; we’re still here. 

I learned to be patient in my mother's sickness. I learned to cut myself off, that I would need to sacrifice my teenage years to support her.  I accepted that my free time would consist of a church and a few weekends at the skating rink. I could maintain my youth while trying to grow up in the privacy of my home while I helped my parents. Did I lose it sometimes? absolutely. I snapped, screamed, and often had meltdowns with my parents, like any teenager. 

But we got through it. We still loved each other. We still prayed, and we still believed that God had a purpose for this. 

                                                                                             Coping after rape.

I was angry. I was full of rage towards churches in my town that I had trusted to come too with my heartache from being raped; I was slut-shamed. I was blamed. They asked me why I didn’t fight hard enough; I fought with everything inside of me. I screamed, I crawled, and I didn’t give up. I will never forget those in the church that looked at me...disgusted. 

“What were you wearing?”

Were you praying enough?”

“God’s trying to get your attention.”

No. That’s not how God works. At least not the God I know. The Great I Am. He has claimed me for good, and He will ALWAYS hear me. He will ALWAYS love me. He will not throw me away. He is not you, and for you to be in church, and to blame a child who trusted you...it is not of God. I mourned the loss of my girlhood. I asked God to walk me through the weight of what was stolen from me. There was many times I snapped, There were many days filled with resentment and confusion as I transitioned into adulthood. I had to know and believe...that people, were not God.

I used my anger to fuel my will. I would stand against what these people thought of me and spat at my heart. I would say no, I fought...and I’m going to keep fighting.

                                               My father's death.

Let me tell you...there has been no greater loss in my life...then the loss of my father. My father and I were a tag team, we did everything together. He made time every Sunday afternoon to have tea parties with me. He taught me how to shoot my first bow, an English longbow at the age of four; I still remember him cheering for me when I hit the target. 

He taught me how to waltz in our living room. Always ending the evening to slow dance with my mother before bed...I remember thinking, “I hope I find someone who loves me the way daddy loves mama...”  I remember my daddy setting me down as he told me what he wanted for my life. 

“You become strong. You get smart. And you find somebody who loves AND treats you well. Don’t you EVER settle for less.” 

He encouraged me to read constantly. He often would read with me late at night when he got back home from working late shifts at the hospital; he was a nurse. We read about everything! My favorite though was the galax. My father and I are a bit of Astrophiles. I remember being so excited when dad would ask me if I read anything about a constellation, he would follow up with, “You wanna go find it outside together?” 

 He would tell me about the stars, pointing out constellations and telling me the history behind them. He told me he love Orion...it reminded him of me. A hunter. I often thought of Artemis, the Greek Goddess when he told me this. I would swell with pride, determined to become the strong woman my father hoped I would be. I remember how much he wanted me to be my own hero, be my own savior. He didn’t want a princess for a daughter, he wanted a hero. He didn’t know...and I should’ve told him more often...but he is my hero.

His sickness came quick, too quick. Within a few months, I suddenly found myself clutching my father's hand. I remember telling him I loved him...we both knew it was the last thing we would ever say to one another. The next day, he was brought back to my childhood home; he was comatose. He died the next morning at 4 am. 

I will never forget the sound that came out of my chest, my entire being. I ached with loss. I was willing to drown in the loss of my father and let it consume me whole. Over the next two years, I fought with my depression, my loss, my grief. There were days I couldn’t feel anything...I couldn’t see anything but a little girl who would give anything to have her daddy back. I cried every day. It took me a long time to see...but I wasn’t alone, my father was not gone. 

He was still with me. I could see him looking back at me in the mirror. Bright blue eyes that screamed with intensity. I could see him in the way my friends loved me, the way they cared for me in my grief. I could find him in all the people he cared for, all the people he had saved as a nurse. I found him in the scent of pipe tobacco...I found him the heart of the woods where he taught me how to climb trees. 

“You gotta be strong. You gotta make it to the top, sweetie. You gotta get above it all to see where you need to go.”

I took three years, but I can say without a shadow of a doubt...I’m okay. I’ve climbed a multitude of trees, I’ve read a lot of books, I’ve been star gazing for a while now, and I bought a lot of pipe tobacco candles. Dad, I love you I can never convey how much I love you. You take up every part of my heart, you are here. I know I’ve been a mess...but I’ve gotten through it. I keep going, and I’m gonna be the woman you wanted me to be. Your hero. 

                                                   My friend's death.

Her name was Jenny. We grew up together. She was part of my family. We loved her...we loved her with everything we had. She came over to my grandmas and I remember always laughing with her. I remember lots of malt milkshakes and tv marathons of American Horror Story. Jenny was a ray of sunshine and a ball of fun. 

Jenny battled with depression. She had suffered immense heartache. She drank to forget, she drank to cope. The drinking got to out of hand, and ultimately, it killed her. I remember my mother calling me the morning she died, I was at work...but it didn’t stop the gut-wrenching cry that escaped me. I cried the entire day...I cried and cried and cried. 

But I had one hope, the ONLY hope that had gotten me through ALL OF THIS. 

God. I had the Lord. 

And I knew...I knew, that He had both Jenny and my father in His hands. I knew she wasn’t sad anymore. I knew I would see her again one day. There are still days I cry for her. There are still days I’m angry at myself for not reaching out enough. There are days I struggle with it. 

But I know our days are numbered. I know and believe God’s word, His promises. He is with us...through the valley. Through the shadow of death. I remember every moment He was with me. I remember that He got me through all of this. I remember that He loved me despite every time I snapped and screamed. I remember that He loved me despite how hateful I could be. I remembered that He didn’t see my scars, my heartache; He just saw his daughter.

I say this with full and complete confidence: Any reaction towards anger and pain that I vocalized during these periods of my life, are justified. I will not ever apologize for the anger that seeped into my soul. I will not apologize for my defenses, I needed them. You might need them...and that’s okay. 

Change is painful. It’s demanding. But it’s possible to be something different...you don’t have to be full of anger like I was. You don’t have to suffer find rage as fuel to fight for others; find goodness, find love. As sappy as it sounds...remember that love is the driving force that gave of Jesus. Remember his suffering? and how he endured? he endured for us, for you. 

I kept my mind on him. No matter how sick and sad I was. I knew if I could just push through, just one more day...that it would be okay. And guess what? it is okay. Fight those battles...defend the weak and broken. Be the driving force, plant your feet on the ground and remember that you were born for this. You were born to survive. 

People told me I was selfish for being angry. They told me I would always be the battle-torn girl. They are wrong. 

Every time I need to remember that God is with me, I listen to Rescue <3 by Lauren Daile.  He will always come for us, He will always fight for us, He will ALWAYS rescue us. 

[mrsronan]

Last Thursday (March 7) I got to speak to a large Women’s Bible Study in San Francisco. I attended the study for three years and have quite a few friends still involved. Here’s what I said. (Health update and other details below the speech.) Also, it won't hurt my feelings at all if you skip the speech and just read the health update. :)

_________________________________________

I’m thankful I get to be here with you ladies this morning. You are always such a blessing. Malene and Karen invited me to give an update on how I’m doing. Most of you know me, but let me introduce myself to those of you I’m not yet acquainted with. My husband and I grew up in Cincinnati Ohio, I’ve served as a missionary to Haiti and spent two years teaching in China. My husband and I believed God called us to San Francisco so we moved here four months after we got married in 2006. When we got here everything that could go wrong went wrong, including losing our housing on the same day I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant. That surprise pregnancy led me to seek help at Alpha Pregnancy Center, the pregnancy ended in miscarriage but I never forgot that Alpha was ready to walk with me and find solutions to all of my concerns. Later I went back to Alpha, but as a staff member and I eventually became the director. I spent almost a decade running that ministry until I was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer and had to resign.  I’ve been going through chemo and radiation treatments since July 2016.  

Before I give you an update on my health I want to tell you a story that will explain my perspective on this challenge.*  

The day I arrived at my new home in Haiti where I would live for a year, I walked into a house that had been robbed. Everything was gone- furniture, curtains, dishes, everything except the kitchen sink. I had met my roommate for the year one day earlier, Shelley lived in the house the year before and knew our neighbors well. She assured me that since we were back and our neighbors loved her, the house would now be safe and nothing more would be stolen. I didn’t believe her. We had just a couple hours to drop our things off before needing to leave for a meeting at the school where we’d be teaching. On my way out the door for the meeting, I silently prayed, “Lord, if our house gets robbed tonight, please don’t let them take my radio, my guitar, or the vase from Morocco Kellie gave me.”

When we got home that night, our house had been ravished. Clothes were strewn everywhere, Shelley’s nice camera— gone. The sheets off our other roommate’s bed— gone. I made it to my room in the back of the house and did a quick scan of my bedroom: my radio was there, check; my guitar was there, check; my vase— gone! What!? Didn’t God hear my prayer? Why would the thieves want my vase anyway? It was just a small memento that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone but me. My heart sank. I felt robbed. But just as quickly as my heart sank, the Holy Spirit began to speak: “Chastidy, I didn’t bring you here this year to look at that vase. I am the same whether or not that vase is on top of your dresser. I haven’t changed and I am worthy of your praise with or without that vase.” My heart responded, “Oh, check. Yes, Lord, I trust you. I’ll praise you. Thanks for being the same and being good no matter what I’ve lost.” A moment later, a fellow teacher who had come to help walked in the door and said, “I found this on the street, does this belong to you?” and held up my vase.

That small momentary loss and the Holy Spirit speaking to my heart taught me how to get through larger losses that aren’t temporary. When my mom was murdered, when I had multiple miscarriages, when my marriage has been difficult, and many other times of loss I’ve gone back to that moment and remembered God is the same no matter what I might be losing. 

To be honest, the months since November have been filled with loss.  

My grandfather died because of lung cancer. 

Five of my other friends have died as well (three cancer related deaths).

My landlord promised me a bigger apartment and even gave me the keys then changed her mind and took the keys back. 

The clinical trial I’ve been on has stopped shrinking my tumors. (More on this below) 

But amidst these tragedies there have been some triumphs. 

I was given the Gianna Molla award and spoke to 50,000 people. 

My daughter turned 3 and sweetly told me I set up her party so nice and perfect. 

I turned 40 even though some medical professionals never thought I’d live this long. My husband, family, and friends threw me two surprise birthday parties. 

So I find myself responding to all of this in a few ways

Crying out to God in mourning and in thanksgiving. 

Praying for others as well as myself. 

Singing Amazing Grace and really meaning every word of all 7 verses.

Returning to scripture and asking God to keep His word as the foundation of my heart.

Some of the verses that I’m returning to over and over have become anthems for me that I go to daily to set my heart and mind in the right place.  

Hebrews 13.8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Reminding me that with or without cancer, God is still worthy of praise. For me, all these efforts to get treatment and extend my life are primarily for my three year old little girl. I don’t want her to have the pain of growing up with out her mom. But, this verse reminds me that God is the same and worthy of our praise even if she does grow up with out a mom.

I also go back to the story of Shadrach Meshach and Abednego from Daniel 3. 

You probably remember the story well. Everyone in their town was  told to bow down and worship a false god. The punishment for refusing was to be thrown into a fiery furnace. Everyone worshipped the gold statue, but Shadrach Meshach and Abednego refused to follow suit. Some people told the king and he was furious. 

Here’s how the Message version of the Bible tells the rest of the story:

The king questioned them and gave them a second chance to obey.

16-18 Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered King Nebuchadnezzar, “Your threat means nothing to us. If you throw us in the fire, the God we serve can rescue us from your roaring furnace and anything else you might cook up, O king. But even if he doesn’t, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference, O king. We still wouldn’t serve your gods or worship the gold statue you set up.”

19-23 Nebuchadnezzar, his face purple with anger, cut off Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. He ordered the furnace fired up seven times hotter than usual. He ordered some strong men to tie them up, hands and feet, and throw them into the roaring furnace. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, bound hand and foot, fully dressed from head to toe, were pitched into the roaring fire. Because the king was in such a hurry and the furnace was so hot, flames from the furnace killed the men who carried Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to it, while the fire raged around Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

24 Suddenly King Nebuchadnezzar jumped up in alarm and said, “Didn’t we throw three men, bound hand and foot, into the fire?”

“That’s right, O king,” they said.

25 “But look!” he said. “I see four men, walking around freely in the fire, completely unharmed! And the fourth man looks like a son of the gods!”

Some people say that is Jesus; I love that even though they were in a literal fire, they weren’t in it alone.  They had to go through the fire, but Jesus went through it with them.

26 Nebuchadnezzar went to the door of the roaring furnace and called in, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the most High God, come out here!”

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walked out of the fire.

27 Everyone gathered around to examine them and discovered that the fire hadn’t so much as touched the three men—not a hair singed, not a scorch mark on their clothes, not even the smell of fire on them! 

Next the king praises God. Shadrach Meshach and Abednego’s fiery challenge 

Gives the king a fiery passion to praise God.

28 Nebuchadnezzar said, “Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego! He sent his angel and rescued his servants who trusted in him! They ignored the king’s orders and laid their bodies on the line rather than serve or worship any god but their own.

29 “Therefore I issue this decree: no one should speak against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. No other god can pull off a rescue like this.”

Friends, I’m in a battle where I can say— Only God can pull off the kind of rescue I need. 

But, I’d bet half my bank account most of you have felt that too.  Maybe you’ve had severe health issues,  maybe you’ve needed the courage to leave an abusive relationship,  maybe you’ve had the sorrow of losing a child,  maybe you’ve been plagued with overwhelming anxiety… 

I’m guessing that everyone of you have had a time when you thought, “only God can rescue me from this.” 

I look back at all those trials I mentioned earlier and see, yes, He jumped into the fire with me on all of them and pulled me out and actually it made me stronger than before.  So, right now, in this fire of cancer, I’m looking to the God who has rescued me time and time again and saying “I know you are able to rescue me, and I believe you will, but even if you don’t I will still praise you.”

The final scripture I return to as an anthem I’ve read with you before. Psalm 118. 

I’d like to share some of it with you again today

Psalm 118

1 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

    his love endures forever.

2 Let Israel say:

    “His love endures forever.”

3 Let the house of Aaron say:

“His love endures forever.”

4  Let those who fear the Lord say:

    “His love endures forever.”

5 When hard pressed, I cried to the Lord;

    he brought me into a spacious place.

6 The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.

    What can mere mortals do to me?

7 The Lord is with me; he is my helper.

 …

8 It is better to take refuge in the Lord

    than to trust in humans.

9 It is better to take refuge in the Lord

    than to trust in princes.

I’m saying it’s better to trust in the Lord 

than medicine or doctors

13 I was pushed back and about to fall,

    but the Lord helped me.

14 The Lord is my strength and my defense[a];

    he has become my salvation.

15 Shouts of joy and victory

    resound in the tents of the righteous:

17 I will not die but live,

    and will proclaim what the Lord has done.

21 I will give you thanks, for you answered me;

    you have become my salvation.

27 The Lord is God,

    and he has made his light shine on us.

…

28 You are my God, and I will praise you;

    you are my God, and I will exalt you.

29 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

    his love endures forever.

 Verse 17 is something I’ve especially clung to. 

At first I thought, I will live and not die so that when I am healed from cancer I can tell the miraculous story of how God healed me and what seemed impossible with man is possible with God. And, that is still what I’m counting on. 

But, I’ve begun to think I’m alive today. I can tell what God has done today. I can tell you today that He has been with me in the trenches of every fire I’ve had to walk through, and he has used them all for the good of many lives and souls. 

And, when I return to scripture it allows me to fix my thoughts on Jesus. He endured the cross scorning its shame for the joy that was set before him. And remembering that He did that, and being bought with his blood gives me the strength to be content in a small apartment, to endure the disease of cancer, and to get through the other pains that come with life in a fallen world but doing so with joy because of the promise of a glorious eternity. 

Two nights ago, as I was putting my daughter to bed we were singing “what can wash a way my sins” and she stopped me mid song and said, “Mommy mommy, the blood of Jesus, it can heal everything. Even if you die it can heal you.” 

If I could leave you with any thought this morning it would be that. The blood of Jesus can heal anything you have going on in your life. Remember He never changes even when our circumstances do, lay your burdens at the foot of His cross, and let His blood bringing healing to your life.  

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HEALTH UPDATE

So, what does it mean for me that the clinical trial isn’t shrinking my tumors? To catch some of you up to speed on what I’ve done before I answer that, I’ve already done 3 kinds of chemo and radiation. The clinical trial I’ve been in is my fourth form of treatment. There are no other FDA approved treatments that have been effective at treating my kind of cancer. I have a biopsy scheduled for Thursday. The results of the biopsy will show if the immunotherapy trial I’ve been on has changed the genetic make up of my tumors. If it has I can continue on the trial. If it hasn’t then I’ll need to start searching for other clinical trials or treatments at different hospitals and clinics. My oncologist thinks I’ll have to begin a search for other clinical trials. She is willing to help me. My family might have to move in order for me to continue to have effective treatment options. I’m really hoping that I won’t have to move, but if we do have to move there’s a promising clinical trial in Cleveland that I’m looking into which would get me closer to my family and I’d be thankful for that. Yet, I am willing to go wherever I need to get treatments. I’ll try to write a short update after I get my biopsy results. 

Separately I had a chalazion in my eye. It has healed. 

OTHER UPDATES

I’m still a super Warriors fan and even though they’ve had a few embarrassing losses recently they are still number 1 in the western conference and still the favorites to be champions this year. 

I lead prayer in the SF Prayer Room every Wednesday night from 6-9 pm.  I’d love it if you join me some time. 

My landlord offered to let us move to a bigger apartment and even gave us the keys. She later changed her mind and took the keys back. I was absolutely heartbroken and cried for days. Now, I’m wondering if God kept us from moving because we might have to move so I can get treatment elsewhere. 

We were gifted tickets to see Hamilton and loved it! It left me wanting to live in a way that gives others freedom. 

My husband, family, and friends threw me TWO surprise birthday parties. I’ve lived to be 40 and I’m pretty thankful about that. 

I threw a small birthday party for Catica. The week after her party she snuggled up on my lap and we had this conversation,  C: Mama, you did such a good job. Me: A good job on what, Baby? C: My party. You set everything up so nice and perfect.  My heart melted.  

PRAYER REQUEST

Please pray for miraculous results to this biopsy and miraculous healing. God is able to do more than we can ask or imagine. 

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*I know I’ve already told this story on my blog before but I love to share it whenever I can as it keeps my perspective in check. 

[scoobydubois-blog]

SCARLET DUBOIS ( SCOOBY DOO ) crossed over into the human world as a TWENTY-ONE year old ALEXIS REN lookalike and now works as a PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR with NONE of HER memory. i can tell they are from SCOOBY-DOO due to their LOYAL and kind of COWARDICE ways; i guess that’s why they remind me of FINDING THE BEST BURGER IN TOWN, HORROR MOVIE MARATHONS and LAUGHING WITH BEST FRIENDS. 

Heyyy-ooooo boys and girls,

I am Ellie and this is Scarlet, aka - Scooby

I like long walks to the fridge and being pop punk trash is my brand

ANYWAY, onto Scarlet-

Ever since she could remember, Scarlet was afraid of everything and anything. From butterflies, to going to school for the first time - it was all so stressful and difficult for her to adapt. While everyone has a long list of ex lovers, this girl’s got a long list of phobias that kept her in the safety of her own home.

For as equally as long as Scooby can remember, she loved food. Not any kind of food (yes, any kind of food (I lied)), but bar food. In short: Take her to half apps, and she will love you almost as much as she loves her boneless chicken wings and burgers, K? K.

When she was 7, she was at her grandparents’ house. Her cousin kept her locked out of the play room because at the time, it was ‘boys only.’ Due to this, she was stuck by herself in the hallway until her grandparents’ door slowly creaked open. Her curiosity lead her inside, and when she found the room to be freezing and her grandfather to be asleep in the bed, she was cautious upon getting closer. Shocked, she had to press her ear to his chest in order to be sure, and it only made the hairs all over her body stand on-end when indeed she heard a heartbeat. When Scooby told her mom and grandmother about her experience, they were quick to deny any truth of it. But, she knew what she experienced and no one was going to tell her she was wrong.

Her friends at school started calling her ‘Spoopy’ due to the story and her fascination with the supernatural following the event. It was thanks to one classmate that heard the nickname wrong, that she was coined as Scooby. Though, the nickname stuck and is still used to this day. For some reason, she’s always felt a resonating connection with the nickname Scooby, and prefers to be called Scooby.

Her mother, Margaret Dubois was a stay at home mother who used to be a part of the child study team within the school system. Though, she retired when she couldn’t save a child from their own mind. Scar’s father, Stewart Dubois, is a well-known mystery novelist who she always felt passed down her love for puzzle-solving gene, along with her undying curiosity. The only difference between the two was that he was so brave, and she was so timid - there was always a blockade between them cause of this. It only worsened with her silly ramblings of ghosts that her father was quick to have her suppress.

Scooby was 13 when her mother’s guilt cut her life short, and that’s the true foundation of what drove her to actually reach out and start building a bond with her father. Instead of being able to mourn the death of her mother, her father pushed her to fake-it-’til-you-make-it, telling her in order to become stronger - braver - you must falsify the feeling and then the genuine mood will follow. Her father started to get her involved with his work more, bouncing off ideas and also utilizing her as a mental sparring partner in the sense of strategy games like chess. This is the point in her life where she truly felt a pull towards solving puzzles. 

Scooby started to gravitate more and more towards mysteries and crime solving, thanks to her father. She found herself dropping in on his Law & Order marathons, and became unable to put down a mystery novel once she picked it up. But, the memory of seeing her grandfather’s ghost was always at the back of her head. It engulfed her mind, soon plaguing her dreams. Her curiosity soon got the best of her and she started to hoard cryptozoology books and anything she could regarding the paranormal. She was at crossroads; Her mind pulling her towards the crime-solving route, but her heart yearned for uncovering the unknown. Her father believed she was just majoring in criminal justice, when really she was dual-degreeing and also majoring in cryptic/occult studies.

She was 18 when she found out her parents weren’t really her parents. Just when she thought her fake bravery was becoming real; all the nights out trespassing in abandoned buildings, finally gathering up the courage to say ‘hi’ first to someone in the hallway. All of that came crashing down when, during her biology lab, she found that her blood type did not match either of her parents’. This made Scarlet’s progress nonexistent, causing her nervousness to be so extravagant that she had a problem speaking. 

Deciding to drop out of uni due to her anxiety getting the better of her, she started to see a therapist who helped her a great deal. They pin-pointed her problem to be PTSD that was stemmed from an unknown trauma from her birth parents before she was adopted at the mere age of 2. Everything was suppressed, and she felt that there was a good reason for that - not wanting to find out the details or dwell. “You can choose love, or you can choose fear.” A line her therapist told her on the daily, causing her to authentically start swallowing her pride and living her life. She didn’t want to go around turning the lights off in the world - she wanted to radiate light. 

She isn’t returning to uni for the time being, trying to catch up on a whole 21year’s worth of experience she missed out on. She’s become a paradox in a sense, claiming she’s fearless when she’s not. Loving horror movies, when they petrify her. Traveling, though she doesn’t feel safe until she’s in her own bed. Being a paranormal investigator and hellbent on proving her experience to be authentic, when the mere thought of running into a spirit has her wanting to scream. Crying during romance films, even though she doesn’t believe a word of it. Acts like she has her whole life figured out, but has no clue what she’s going to do the next day. She’s starting to place the pieces together: Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but acting despite those fears. 

Scoobs is basically a light-hearted goof. She loves conspiracy theories, and intelligent conversations at mere hours of the morning. She acts impulsively in order to keep her anxiety at bay. She leaves pieces of herself in everyone she meets and everywhere she goes; though no one is aware of her past because she’s rather mum on the subject. She does have trust issues because of her parents hiding the fact she was adopted, and it’s why she doesn’t really let anyone in. That, and she doesn’t want people to think she’s a liar or is looking for attention. She’s very comical and a great friend to have around if you’re having a bad day. But, don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from her everyday- she’s so touch-and-go. One minute she’s hitting you up to get milkshakes at 12 am, then you don’t hear from her for weeks. She’s emotional, being a Cancer in her own right.

A couple plot ideas I have:

The “You know, being your friend is going to kill me one day,” friendship

A hardcore crush who she can’t even talk to. She becomes a stuttering and stumbling mess and becomes super quiet and red around them. She’s bisexual and biromantic so I mean, hit me with anyone?

An adventure buddy who joins her at diners when it’s like 2 AM. Lit their pastime is just finding the best food in town. They just get one another and joke around - ya feel?

SOME PARANORMAL INVESTIGATING PEEPS. Ghost Busters 3.0, anyone?

Maybe someone who can’t stand Scoobster? Maybe Scooby rubs them the wrong way, or maybe there’s jealousy of some sort? 

Someone that could’ve been very important to her, but she blew it due to her cowardice trait? Like, she never spoke up when she should have, she never put in enough effort, ect.

ANYWAY, I’M DOWN FOR ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. JUST LIKE THIS OR HMU. THE MORE ANGST - THE BETTER TBH, I LOVE THE DRAMMMAAA.

[lil-loucifer]

1-100

Boi

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

Spotify

is your room messy or clean?

It’s been messy since 2012

what color are your eyes?

Brown

do you like your name? why?

I guess it’s alright? I can’t imagine going by anything else, so...

what is your relationship status?

Single

describe your personality in 3 words or less

There is none

what color hair do you have?

Black naturally, normally dyed blue

what kind of car do you drive? color?

Hey guys guess who’s a loser who can’t drive

where do you shop?

Anywhere there’s books or video games

how would you describe your style?

The minimum amount of fucks given

favorite social media account

Probably this shitshow

what size bed do you have?

Average?

any siblings?

One sister

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

I’m not sure tbh??

favorite snapchat filter?

I don’t use snapchat, actually

favorite makeup brand(s)

I don’t know shit about makeup ;-;

how many times a week do you shower?

Five, normally

favorite tv show?

I haven’t watched much TV lately

shoe size?

Like, somewhere between 9-11 in mens

how tall are you?

5′10′’ I think?

sandals or sneakers?

Can I go with boots?

do you go to the gym?

Nope we’re all sedentary here

describe your dream date

I like staying home admittedly

Feel uncomfortable anywhere else

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

Less than twenty, I can tell you that

what color socks are you wearing?

White and gray

how many pillows do you sleep with?

Two

do you have a job? what do you do?

Hey guys guess who’s a useless sack of shit

how many friends do you have?

Not many 

A very precious few

whats the worst thing you have ever done?

Don’t really want to say

whats your favorite candle scent?

I don’t really pay attention to candle scents??

3 favorite boy names

Ehhhh I don’t really care

3 favorite girl names

^^

favorite actor?

Sebastian Stan??

favorite actress?

Uhhhhhhhh

who is your celebrity crush?

I don’t really have one

favorite movie?

Patch Adams!

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

I read a fuckton, but I don’t really have a favorite book. I might go with the Shadowhunter series, but more for the unique lore than the romantic shitshow

money or brains?

Money? Guess who’s shallow

do you have a nickname? what is it?

I got plenty! My favorite one is “Blue”

how many times have you been to the hospital?

Never had to go in for myself.

top 10 favorite songs

In no particular order:

-Bad Moon Rising (Mourning Ritual)

-Breed (Nirvana)

-Raise Hell (Dorothy)

-Don’t Mess With Me (Brody Dalle)

-Bullet With Butterfly Wings (The Smashing Pumpkins)

-Intro (The xx)

-Back in the USA (Green Day)

-Killing in the Name Of (Rage Against the Machine)

-Gay Bar (Electric Six)

-Glitter & Gold (Barns Courtney) 

do you take any medications daily?

Nope

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

Pretty heckin dry

what is your biggest fear?

The irrational fear that everyone I know and love only ever tolerates me and/or hates me or forgets about me as soon as I leave their life

how many kids do you want?

Not many :c Or not at all, I’m shit with kids

whats your go to hair style?

Undercut, but I can never seem to get it right

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

Average, I think

who is your role model?

I have never had a positive role model in my life

what was the last compliment you received?

Something along the lines of “No you dumb shit you’re handsome”

what was the last text you sent?

“thank you”

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

I always kinda thought Santa Claus was bullshit growing up, but age eight was around when I actually told my parents

what is your dream car?

I don’t know shit about cars, fam

opinion on smoking?

As long as you can avoid causing harm to yourself or anyone else, I won’t give you shit

do you go to college?

Yeah! Poorly, but yeah

what is your dream job?

Have purpose, make money

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

Suburbs, I guess. 

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

No, not really

do you have freckles?

Not to my knowledge!

do you smile for pictures?

Depends on who’s taking the picture, and what for

how many pictures do you have on your phone?

Several years’ worth

have you ever peed in the woods?

Nope. Never spent enough time in nature to lose my willpower.

do you still watch cartoons?

Hell yeah!

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

Wendy’s sells chicken nuggets?

Favorite dipping sauce?

Ketchup, I guess

what do you wear to bed?

Depends on how unsettled I feel, I guess

have you ever won a spelling bee?

Nope!

what are your hobbies?

Video games and writing.

can you draw?

Poorly, but yeah

do you play an instrument?

Nope!

what was the last concert you saw?

Haven’t really seen a concert before :c

tea or coffee?

Coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Starbucks I guess

do you want to get married?

I dunno, honestly. 

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

H.E.

are you going to change your last name when you get married?

I don’t even know if I’ll get married, fam

what color looks best on you?

Black, I guess? It’s all I’ve been wearing lately lmao

do you miss anyone right now?

Yeah, you.

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Closed, often “locked”

do you believe in ghosts?

It’s kinda hard to say tbh

what is your biggest pet peeve?

I don’t really have any?

last person you called`

My mom, needed her to answer some stuff to fill out a forum

favorite ice cream flavor?

Cookies & Cream or Chocolate Chip COokie dough

regular oreos or golden oreos?

Regular

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

Either!

what shirt are you wearing?

That’s shitty Punisher shirt

what is your phone background?

A lil pic of a cat one of my favorite artists posted a while ago

are you outgoing or shy?

I am shy as shit, fam

do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yeah! If I tell them it’s okay. 

do you like your neighbors?

Yeah, I guess. They haven’t done anything bad to me, but for most of my upbringing, I never really spoke to them. 

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

Noo I have such shitty personal hygiene 

have you ever been high?

No

have you ever been drunk?

No

last thing you ate?

A s’more flavored Pop Tart

favorite lyrics right now

“What did I ever do to you,

That you should treat me this way?

Is it really such a crime for an angel to speak his mind?

In time I’ll try to shed some light.

If I, were a big boy

I wouldn’t cry

But since I’m not a big boy, 

I’ll have to cry...”

summer or winter?

Winter

day or night?

Night, I guess

dark, milk, or white chocolate?

Milk!

favorite month?

December?

what is your zodiac sign

Cancer

who was the last person you cried in front of?

I haven’t cried in front of someone since elementary school

[lgbtloudhouse]

The fall of Lgbtloudhouse. A Story based on real events. An au of reality.

Depression. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed, for a certain young girl… at least not in their eyes… Celeste B was a normal fangirl. She would laugh and cry over things people called “for kids”.. Well, it was for kids! And she still was a kid, so she enjoyed the things she liked to do. Drawing, editing, watching The Loud House and obsessing over the characters. She loved the show and it was one of her favorite things to watch. She would make connections with them and pick out things about them that she would relate to. “Ok, come on, Luan is gay as hell and y'all know it.” She said to no one in particular, but just thinking out loud. She would just browse tumblr looking at some of her favorite blogs and the ones she makes friends with. They were one of the reasons she lift her head up and smiled. Until one day. Let’s just say to summarize it, she was mentally unstable and ill. She took meds for it, but she still had her moments. Her weaknesses. Her downfalls. It turned dark.

Celeste was scrolling through one day and came across something disturbing. People were calling her out. She looked closer, confused and worried. “Its just a drawing, get over it!” “Wow, I can’t believe some little kid is getting triggered over a simple drawing. Jump only drew an oc!” “Lmao damn sjw’s crying again kys”

“W-what.??” Celeste felt something hit her heart. Was this really happening? /oh.. well, it’s nothing. I’m pretty sure it’s just some trolls…/ But she’ll come soon to know that it was more than just trolls she was dealing with.

-some while later- Celeste was doing well. Drawing random lil things here and there. Going on tumblr was hard, but she still loved it. …..

“Oh.. oh my GOD!!!” Celeste put her hand over her mouth in fear. What is this… this… thing she’s looking at? “Did.. they… they… drew PORN of me???” She was shaking, trying not to cry. She needed to talk to someone about this.

Her friends. The safe squad.

She opened up her messages.

Lgbtloudhouse: Queenie! I.. I found something, it’s very very disturbing.. QB: what is it? *lgbtloudhouse sent a link* QB: oh my lord.. These trashies don’t know when yo stop. I can’t believe they’d stoop to such a low level. I’ll handle it. For now, block aval0nx and report it. Lgbtloudhouse: ok..

Celeste was sitting in her room, just trying to ignore everything. Why would someone so such a thing to a mentally ill teenager who only wanted some peace? She sighed, and went to bed.

-some days later-

Celeste had a huge headache. Dealing with internet creeps was not going well for her. She tried to ignore it, but each time she would make it feel bad about herself. She still couldn’t believe what happened. She just wanted a break, but she couldn’t.. She didn’t know why, or what was holding her back, but she knew it wasn’t good.

/time to see what’s going on again../ she thought.

“You are worse than cancer. You are incurable, never go away, and torments people for the rest of there life’s to the point where you want to kill yourself. I don’t think I need to explain why for both points.”

“Let’s see lgbtloudhouse use those insults later when she isn’t some snobby kid whos parents probably buy her everything she wants, she thinks the whole world has to bow to her just because she thinks we should. Lgbtloudhouse is just a spoiled brat. You can practically smell the friendlessness and bitch from that kid.”

“Lgbtloudhouse is a cunt.”

“She must be a real dumbass cunt if she thought she won. I will use the word strongly. Dumbass cunt.”

“Queenie is just using lgbtloudhouse. Like a tool. She doesnt care about her feelings”

“We may like fictional incest but for the love of God act better than lgbtloudhouse and safehouse!”

“New comic. Page 1/10. Chapter one: a "Celestial” being.“

/NO…/

/OH MY.. GOD…/

Celeste could not believe what she was seeing. Her mind felt like it was crumbling apart trying to stay stable.

/leave. I’m gonna leave./ she thought.

Upon finding more chaos.. she decided to take a break.

Until one day.

A fellow friend of hers decided to message her to inform her on what has happened. Something that she’d never seen before. Let’s call this guy, "Lines”. No shade or anything negative to Lines. But Celeste discovered something horrific that shook her to the core. He sent her some photos in warning to her.

“There’s something I found online.. and i think you need to see this..”

“Sure, what is it?”

*Lines sent a photo*

“Do the world a favor, and do the n— jig off the nearest tree.” One photo showed a Celeste glancing at a rope along with a Clyde dangling on a tree, dead, in the background. Sucide baiting. Something inside of Celeste broke. She couldn’t feel anything anymore.

“Also…”

*Lines sent a photo*

This is when the worst happened.

Celeste. Her being violated, drawn pornography of her and Lincoln was showed on her phone. Uncensored. With Lynn and Lars, loud house canon genderbents, watching and getting off in the front.

Celeste dropped her phone. Her family was out. She began to shake. Cry. Scream. Tear at her skin. Sobbing and crying hysterically, couldn’t take it anymore. She ran to the kitchen. Threw open the drawer. Grabbed the biggest knife she could find.

She tearfully ran back into her room. She turned off the lights and closed her curtains.

But grabbed a pencil and some paper and began writing.

Dear family,

Let me just explain why you are in this unfortunate situation. As you know, I love the loud house and I began to go on a site called tumblr. I found many sweet and lovely friends on there. Let me just give out their names because I really want my beautiful friends to thrive through this horrible time. They are: queenbean03, fangirl20, brighteronthesunnyside, adh2d, vanillafrappelatte, transfairycosmo, loud-siblings-against-loudcest, thebigcrunchone9, asknightvaleandgravityfalls, underratedhero, phandomtrashnumerouno, spectrumbunny, skwhy, sourbetes, thecyancat, summeroverdrive, hadenohade, kirby-universe, doctorgalaxy101, wonderingaboutwander, lifeismarvelous, tamamajasper, animatedtrash4, Adrianacartoonfangirl, and many other beautiful souls and friends. I’m so sorry this happned. I was going through tumblr and I started to get bullied. First it was insults, then name calling, then death and suicide threats, then drawn porn of me. Tell Caleb (my brother, 6), Ariel (sis, 5), grandma, and the family and my friends that I love them. I love you guys so much, but I can’t take this anymore. Love, Celeste.

She raised the knife over herself. And.. *thump*.

“Celeste! We’re home!” Celeste’s mother Jennifer called out. They brought home cheese pizza, which they knew she loved. They also noticed that she hasn’t been coming out of her room lately and looked noticeably sad. They got some pizza to make her happy again.

“Hmmm. Why are all the lights off?”

Celeste’s dad, Rich, shrugged.

“Maybe she wanted some dark.”

“Yeah, but all of them?”

“Yeah that’s weird. Caleb, go wake up your sister.”

“Okay!!!” Caleb was Celeste’s little brother. He can be a handful, but he’s still her brother. He, like his sister, has autism, adhh, ocd, and is in general very hyper but still loving.

He ran to her door and opened it.

She was laying on the floor.

Caleb ran out to tell their mom.

“Mom, Celeste is sleeping on the floor!”

Jennifer laughed. “You’re so silly Caleb. I’ll go get her.”

She walked over to her door. And screamed.

Laying on the floor, was her daughter Celeste. Dead.

“What the???!?!

She looked closer.. and gasped.

A knife was in her head.

She then saw, this was self-inflicted. Suicide.

-month later-

It was a dark and depressing day in South Carolina. Raindrops covered the graveyard like grass covering land. Despite it being summer everyone felt a chill inside their hearts.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of daughter Celeste B. She was a wonderful spirit and lovely girl. But then the harsh pain of evil came over her in despair. May we all come together and this heavenly soul rest in peace. And may the world have peace in future cyberbullying to stop. And for acts of hate against this lady and other victims of cyberbullying to decrease quickly. Amen.”

It was a shame. Love will be found in all the right places. May we come together and figure out that what you say can have a impact on someone’s life. I am glad I never killed myself. I am strong but weak. Beautiful yet fragile. Loving yet fearless. Now what would you react if this actually happned and I did commit sucide? Love yourself and choose your ways carefully. Love eachother and find peace. I am strong for staying. Don’t give up for light or life. You are loved, my love.

[trashp0et]

Rest in Space

I always thought breakups were the worst and most painful heartache. But that was before I found you on the couch without a pulse. That was before I had to realize I was never going to see you smile again, hear your laugh again.

 This heartache is the kind you can physically feel, my lungs were made of fire when the blood gushed from your mouth as the paramedic performed CPR and the color red stained the rug.

 Two days later, we rolled up the rug and threw it away. I don’t want to think of what Christmas will be like without you. I hate the realization that you won’t be at my graduation.

 I remember you in flashes. Memories of hot tea and banana bread. And you loved to hear me talk about the boys and girls I liked so much I made up a few just to entertain you.

 You loved the chocolate chip cookies from McDonalds and milk, god, you drank so much milk. We watched RuPaul’s Drag Race together and I loved overanalyzing each and every contestant.

 But you didn’t make it to see the finale.

 And seeing your body for the last time, the vessel that held you for so long, empty now that was the most unbearable part. You were so cold when I kissed your cheek.

 I stayed behind after everyone else left the room and whispered to you, “Sashay away” because you were the only one who would have understood the reference.

 And I can’t stop feeling guilty because I knew something was wrong but I was so caught up in fixing things with my mom that I left anyways, I left you there.

I should have stayed; I’m never going to see you again.

 It rained that night as the coroner drove away carrying your lifeless body. They say when it rains the night someone dies it’s the angels crying but you didn’t believe in god or angels.

 And neither do I so who do I pray to?

 Who am I supposed to ask for forgiveness? Because I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for this. But I don’t cry anymore and that makes me feel even more guilty.

 I keep trying to convince myself that it’s okay because I knew you were in pain; the cancer was eating you alive. But it’s not okay, none of this is poetic and beautiful, it’s so ugly.

 The days feel so ugly without you.

 The night is so quiet without your constant laughter and the late night sitcoms. I lay in the bed that used to be yours and I understand why you were so afraid of the world. Why you hid behind a smile missing teeth.

 We can’t talk about you for too long otherwise the room will swell with so much emotion I will fantasize of hitting my head on a wall just to release the pressure of it all

 I don’t know how to mourn you properly.

 I don’t even know how to end this poem other than to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. And none of this writing could ever do you any justice but I hope the aliens finally took you home.

 I love you, I’ll miss you always. Rest in space.

September 15, 2016, Steven Duran

[fall-out-of-formation]

can i ask for any and all of the numbers that you havent done? because tumblr rules are made to be bent and i want to ask as many as i damn well please thank you bye

Hey, bean. I wanted to let you know that the tags that you put on my selfie caused me to make some weird pterodactyl noise and it scared my cat. And I just spelled pterodactyl correctly on the first try for some reason? Oh, and the lighting was from my grandma’s bathroom. 

Woah. I wasn’t necessarily expecting this. But I like challenges, so imma do it. I wonder how personal and detailed I should make this? (Also I appreciate so much that you care about what I have to say? Like, holy shit.)

1. Any scars? Yes. Both kneecaps: I lost control of my scooter and ended up sliding down a hill on my freaking knees. I have a weird scar on my chest from when a kitten got mad at me while I was holding her. Four areas on my legs have scars as well. See question 2.

2. Self harmed? It’s like, the amount of time that goes by doesn’t matter. I see so many tumblr friends celebrating their milestones, and I’m so happy for them, but I feel sad for me. I went three years without doing it once. But it always comes back to me in moments of panic.

3. Crush? His name is Hunter and he’s an idiot. New ship: #Charter

4. Kissed anyone? A couple meaningless kisses in my youth, and then I experienced adult stuff with someone I love with all my being.

5. Coke or Pepsi? It depends on my mood, and I don’t understand how people always love one and hate the other. They’re both good, in my opinion. They have their subtle differences, both are good sodas.

6. Someone you hate? I’ve had it with the Kardashians, man. And the obvious: Trump.

8. Have you ever done alcohol or drugs? Affirmative, but not going to go into detail on this post because I’ve got some younger mutuals that might take a peek at this and I don’t want them to judge me 310. Ever been in love? #Charter.

11. Last time you cried? Last week. I was freaking out because I was all by myself for way too long. 

14. Birthday? September 20!

19. If you had one wish, what would it be? A way to contact lost loved ones. I wanna call my uncle so bad, just to see how he is.

20. Do you love someone? I love a lot of people. But it’s still a strong love.

21. Kiss or hug? I love both, why do I have to choose :(

24. Favorite band? August Burns Red, The Devil Wears Prada, Twenty one Pilots, Lord Huron.

25. Worst thing that has ever happened to you? April 7th, 2011. My momma had a fiance. His name was Gary. He was such a sweetheart. Smart as hell, talented, and so easy to talk to. He and I decided to take a walk on the nature trail, and my mom stayed home because her stomach was hurting. It was a freaking beautiful April day, one of the first warm days of the year. Gary and I talked about the latest annoying Comcast commercial, we talked about black lightsabers and how they could even exist, and he asked me about my music interests. I was just explaining to him what a “scene kid” was when he fell. He died before I could say goodbye. He died before I could even understand what was happening. November 14th, 2013. The day I had to put my cat to sleep. From age four to sixteen, I had the weirdest connection with a kitty named Angel. My mom had adopted her for me as an Easter present, when I was little. We bonded on the very first day and we were inseparable for her whole life. She supported me and she could tell when I was sad. When I was eight, my mom had yelled at me for something. I was crying on my bed. Angel jumps up and starts playing with my tears. She knew it would help. One day she was rolling around on the floor, showing her belly and being cute. I didn’t usually touch her belly because I knew she didn’t like it. But for some reason, I did that day. And I felt a tumor. She fought her cancer with as much bravery as any human. But I couldn’t make her suffer any longer. She died in my arms, and with her, died my childhood. My comfort, familiarity, sanity, connection, everything died with her. I have never mourned so hard in my life as I did that night. January 7th, 2014. I am working my shift at Panera bread. Just counting down the minutes. Wanting to get the hell out of there. I heard a woman yelling, and I didn’t understand who it even was. It was my mom. She was telling me that we had to go. Immediately. Her brother had passed in his sleep. He was in his early forties. He wasn’t supposed to die. He’s supposed to walk me down the isle at my wedding. He’s supposed to take me to the August Burns Red concert next year, because that’s what he always does. He’s supposed to take me camping in May. We have way too many conversations that haven’t been had yet. We’re supposed to go fishing. And get taco bell afterwards. He’s supposed to answer the phone at 3 a.m. when I feel like shit, because I know he’s probably feeling like shit, too, and we can help each other feel better. 

27. Something you would change about yourself? I have no motivation. At all. I’ve got loads of clean laundry from three weeks ago sitting in the middle of the floor. I can’t fold it, I just can’t.

28. Ever dated someone? I’ve dated two guys seriously. I don’t count the rest.

29. Worst mistake? In the seventh grade, I was a witness to a situation that caused the loss of a teacher’s job. Maybe the outcome would have been different if I hadn’t been too scared to defend him. That’s a long, weird story.

30. Watch the movie or read the book? Both. Preferably, book first, then movie.

31. Ever had a heartbreak? See all three situations in number 25.

32. Favorite show? 2 Broke Girls, Yu Yu Hakusho, XFiles

34. Any talents? I used to dance competitively. And some people like the photos I take! 

35. Do you wish you could ever start over? Yes. Get me out of here

36. Any bad habits? I’ve been biting my nails since I had teeth :(

37. Ever had a near death experience? I was at a metal show, up against the barrier, and the crowd stormed the barrier. The barrier almost collapsed and I might have been crushed. Or any time I get in the car with Hunter.

38. Someone I can tell anything to? Hunter. 

39. Ever lost a loved one? See 25, haha.

40. Do you believe in love? I do. Not the fairy tale stuff, but I believe in what I’ve got going on.

41. Someone you hate/Dislike? trrrrrrrruuuuuuuump.

42. Are you okay? It’s complicated. 

43. Relationship status? #Charter.

[cosmosogler]

today i did barely anything!!! i got up like five minutes earlier than i did yesterday. i was having dreams... i don’t remember what they were about this time. i woke up exhausted and droopy-eyed already. 

what even happened all day... i mostly stayed in my room. for lunch i had more hummus because i hate myself and the hummus was really spicy so i ate all of it. that’s a whole tub gone in the span of less than 24 hours.

after that i hung out with eve and the doog for a while. then mom and i went to the grocery store. mom had to yell at me about the potato salad though, because i said i tolerated feta cheese and she took that to mean i loved it or something and then got upset with me when i wasn’t too excited about the recipe when we were buying the vegetables and feta cheese. 

the pain had started before that though, when i was standing with the cart at the deli while mom looked at vegetables. it’s hard to describe. it was under my chest, but pretty deep in there. i was not happy at all. it made me want to stop breathing, even though it wasn’t my lungs or diaphragm in particular that hurt. it was below them. it felt like something heavy was sitting on my organs. i was nervous about making any displays of pain though because mom likes to either overreact because something is wrong with her baby!!! or tell me it’s all in my head and i’m overreacting.

yeah, i know.

so i hobbled around the aisles behind her and tried not to imagine actually eating any of the food on the shelves while still trying to make decisions about my meals for the next week. i thought i was gonna throw up. 

hummus... doesn’t make me sick. i don’t know what was happening. when we got home i forced myself upstairs and stayed in my room for a long time again. i couldn’t get comfortable though. the chair is rubbing against my legs all wrong and the carpet feels wrong on my feet and my feet aren’t sitting right and i keep fidgeting. that was happening a lot yesterday too, and last night. it took foreverrrr to fall asleep. 

i felt kinda bad about going out in public with the gross patch of damaged skin on my face. it’s like, a little bigger than a dime. i accidentally scraped it and it was like, screaming internally for a whole minute. i will try not to mess with it before i go to bed...

then i took eve and wiley for a walk!!! together!!!! that was a really bad idea. they really bring out the worst in each other. they both pulled as hard as they could the whole time because eve likes to be in front but her leash is a few inches shorter than wiley’s. and wiley likes to annoy eve so he made sure to stay out in front. and when one of them stopped to check out a bush, ONLY one of them stopped, so i’d get jerked forward when the other one took off. a little girl and her dad were at the park and wiley got a few pettings, but eve started barking and whining because the people were too close to her. and wiley doesn’t usually stop to poop in the evenings, but today he did! so we had to truck it all the way back to the park to throw away the bag and get a new one from the dispenser. eve was happy to go inside and lay down when we got back home, but we didn’t go far enough to tire wiley out.

i dunno. i told myself i’d take them both out today and take wiley out for a while, but when it came time to walk them i was just so tired and the muscles in my toes were really hurting me. that hasn’t gone away.

after i fed the dogs i was watching diogi trip her way around the table and i suggested to mom that we get her some booties for her back legs, to give her more traction. mom said that dad is taking her to mike tomorrow. since that response had nothing to do with what i said, i assume she meant that when diogi goes to the vet tomorrow, she might not come back.

i am really struggling emotionally with this. when i was sitting at the table after dinner dad said that randi was a lot like this too at the end. i said “yeah but randi was... dying.” she’d had cancer and was unable to walk the last few days... dad said “yeah exactly.” i said that diogi’s case was pretty different, since she seemed very alert. and also she eats everything i put in front of her. randi wouldn’t eat anything and when she drank water she threw it up.

when is the right time to euthanize your pet? is there even a right time? i mean yeah at some point they are in a lot of pain and they’re not going to get better, but diogi doesn’t seem too bothered by it right now. are you supposed to kill the dog before they are in too much pain? why doesn’t that extend to all of old age? why not quit while you’re ahead, before everything goes bad and you’re still happy? why be alive in the first place?

i don’t want my dogs to die... but i know that it will happen whether i accept it or not. and it will probably happen soon. it’s not something you can put off forever or until you’re ready to deal with it like making a phone call or emailing your grad schools about a change in your transcript. which i still haven’t done (ha ha). i keep hoping that “soon” will extend farther and farther out every day my dogs are still alive but they are both thirteen. that’s not how it works.

i feel bad about mourning them while they’re still alive... i think that no matter how ready i think i am for it, i will still shatter into a million pieces when it happens. and who am i going to go to for comfort. my mom treats them like furniture. my dad is Manly and therefore emotionally unavailable. my brother does his best to emulate dad. my gramma and grampa are going to say “that’s life.” 

i am probably going to outlive gramma and grampa too.

it destroyed me that i didn’t get to be with randi and jake when they died, not really. i was upstairs when randi died on the floor. i should have been with her. the last thing jake saw was some vet he didn’t know. i think by that point he was so far gone he didn’t know what he was looking at any more though.

crying too hard, eyes dried out, burns, going to take small break.

mmmm i made some plans with asher to hang out on tuesday. i also talked a little bit about how mother is a turbo asshole. i will try to remember to write about that more maybe later. 

oh. today before dinner i was talking to mom about something. i guess i was watching her cook dinner. diogi was trying to walk and fell down on the slick wood paneling. so she just laid down. eve walked over and laid down next to her. i said “aww, i wish i’d brought my phone.” mom said “why,” and i said “look at those two losers.” mom turned around and saw them laying side by side, leaning against each other, and said “i have my phone right here.” i said “yeah but is the clicker thing turned off?” and she said “yeah.” diogi hates cameras and bright lights. her old owner’s roommates used to shine flashlights in her eyes so she’s real skittish around anything that flashes. neither of them likes the “picture taken” click that the phone makes.

so mom pulled out the phone and very slowly stood there trying to get a picture. diogi noticed and sat up. i said “she’s probably not going to lay back down,” and mom said “just wait.” so i sat down by wiley, which encouraged both eve and doogles to get up and walk over. mom whipped out the camera and it both flashed AND clicked. diogi took off. i actually got mad for real.

“you said the clicker was off!” i said. mom shrugged. “at least i got a picture.” “that wasn’t the point,” i said. 

i found diogi trying to hide under dad’s side of the bed.

it’s kind of fascinating how little other living things matter to mother. 

ok, i will talk about mother a little bit since it’s not 1 yet and i gotta make sure i go to bed later than i want every night. 

mom acts like she thinks other people/animals don’t have feelings. if she does think they have feelings, she definitely doesn’t think those feelings are as real or as important as hers. 

and... there’s not really anything wrong with putting yourself first. but she’s so mean about it. she will only do something you ask as long as it’s something she already wanted to do. she will only keep your secrets for as long as she feels like. she will only listen to what you say until she wants to hurt you. then she takes what you said and throws it back at you. and anything can make her want to hurt you. it doesn’t even need to have anything to do with you.

sometimes (every time without fail) she asks me a question and while i’m in the process of answering, like actually talking, she will ask the same question in a different way. like, why do you ask me like you want an answer if you don’t actually want to hear what i have to say? 

there is nothing that i actually like about her. i can see that she’s good at some things, and useful for others, but... i don’t like those things about her either. am i a bad person for viewing my mother as a tool more than a person i want to interact with? does that mean i see other people like that too? am i capable of seeing other people as anything more than useful for whatever? can that really be considered friendship?

it’s so hard to not distance myself from people. they are obviously not machines that behave predictably and consistently. anyone could attack me at any time for any reason. that’s what mother does. that’s what my dad does. that’s what my sister does. that’s what craig did. that’s what all the kids at christian school did, and jim did, and and and

and what i did until basically college. violently and often without warning. i had no idea what was going on with my temper. i deserved everything that happened to me. it’s what i inflicted on other people. every time craig hurt me, i deserved it, because i would say things just to hurt other people too. that’s why i stayed with him for so long. it was my punishment for seeing the world the way mother sees the world, and treating the people in the world like mother would.

i had to be punished. it was fair. if i got away with what i did i would have felt bad about it forever. even though i still feel really bad about it. so, you know. i just can’t forgive myself for acting on my rage. for throwing temper tantrums and kicking and screaming well into grade school. for all the times i didn’t go to class because i wanted to stay outside. for all the times i wandered off from detention because the sun was hurting my eyes and sitting outdoors doing nothing in the middle of the day in august in phoenix arizona was boring and hard. for all the times i didn’t get up to use the bathroom because i had something more interesting to do until mom threatened me with diapers. no wonder she thinks i’m mentally challenged. for yelling at my friends and pouring water on them even during middle school. 

in christian school i got what i deserved. i didn’t deserve friends. i deserved all the times i got spat on and told on even when i didn’t do anything wrong, all the times i got pushed around and beat up and tied to the goalposts on the soccer field. i’m lucky i was physically disabled (mom didn’t think so though) or else i might have physically hurt someone.

i’m so miserable. i miss having a partner. don’t look at me. my face is bleeding.