#writing about being nauseous constantly and barely eating....there was something wrong with me but you know all my mother said when i got

[californiaquail]

reading my journal from my freshman year of high school when i was in the cult

[thebeautyoffanfics]

WAAAH I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE REQUEST TT^TT TO THE ANON WHO WISHED FOR THE TERU X READER, ANGST TO FLUFF, HERE IT ISS;; I'M SO SORRY;;;;;

teru minamoto x gn!reader

a/n: thank you so much for being patient and understanding, though I’m still so sorry for how long this took;;!! It really does mean a lot, so truly- thank you for that, and for the encouragement <3! But!! Of course, I’m a bit of a sucker for angst to fluff, tho I don’t write it too often, so I hope it turns out alright! Thank you so much for requesting, and for your encouragement!!! <3 <333

warnings: self deprecating thoughts..?

word count: 1,848

Your eyes drifted around the room. Person to person, conversation to conversations. Yet, you sat at your desk, lunch in front of you, completely alone. You had a boyfriend, yes, but you didn’t even know where on earth he could be… no, he usually sat with you during lunch. However, today he walked up to you, announcing that he had to attend to something during lunch. He asked if you could eat your lunch without him today, and… well, who were you to say no?

The bell rang, and your lunch remained barely touched. You were sure you wouldn’t have been so dramatic normally- however, it felt as if Teru was practically avoiding you at this point. In fact, it almost felt like he was ditching you for someone else. The thought was enough to make you feel nauseous- both because of it being unpleasant, and because you felt bad for simply thinking it. Teru was a good person. You wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. Still, he was only human… and, in your head, there were many other humans out there much more fit for Teru. She was one of them.

Her hair flowed alongside her. Her skin was practically flawless. Her teeth weren’t crooked, and her smile was… frankly, flawless. Good grades, good body, good personality. A lovely match for the prince of the school. A princess suited just for him.

Yet, he seemed to stick with the… well- what was the opposite of a princess? A… troll? You did suppose that, compared to someone like that, a troll was a fair enough comparison. Nothing but a creature in the face of such beauty.

The worst part, you were sure, was the fact that Teru did spend time with her. In fact, you were confident that she “needed him” for something during lunch, causing him to miss out on yet another thing. As if grabbing his attention after school during club activities wasn’t enough. As if going to him constantly to ask for help on things you were positive she was perfectly good at. Her grades were nearly as good as his… was it because he helped her? In that case, why were your grades still lower…? Teru helped you study plenty of times- and, while your grades did get better, you were sure you couldn’t get all 99s and 100s. It was impossible for someone who couldn’t be any form of royalty.

You leaned over, placing your lunch back into the box, then shoving the box into your bookbag. Once you sat up, the classroom door was pushed open- as it usually was. It was right after lunch, after all. However, when you saw two familiar people step in, you began to wish that the door never opened. If only it had been locked- if only someone got distracted. If only you looked down just a bit longer. But, it was done- there was no going back, no need to go back, on such a tiny detail.

In stepped the “Princess”, the “Prince” following her- he even held the door open. It was a basic act of chivalry, yes, but the lack of it around you only made him that much more like a prince… Yes, he wasn’t kind to just you. He treated everyone with kindness, as a normal person should. That little act shouldn’t have made you feel that twinge of jealousy- of doubt- spark in your mind.

“(Y/N), were you able to enjoy lunch?” Teru asked, taking a seat next to you. At least he was still acknowledging you.

“Mmh… I’m not really hungry, haha.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, concern crossing onto his beautiful features.

“Are you feeling alright? I don’t want you to wind up hungry later…”

Of course, the concern on his face was no longer in your direction- his expression changing slightly as the unfortunately familiar girl called his name. Though she spoke to him, his eyes drifted in your direction several times.

“Teru, I was wondering if you could let me borrow your notes from second hour? The teacher was speaking so fast, ahaha~. I don’t know how you keep up, really!”

“Oh? Of course, I don’t mind. If you’d please return them when you’re done though,” Teru spoke, grabbing a notebook from his bag, then handing them to her. He’d surely let you borrow his notes too, so… she wasn’t special. Though it was a bit surprising that someone that bright couldn’t keep up with the teacher’s far-too-fast method of teaching. When you opened your mouth to make a comment you already knew you shouldn’t, the teacher entered, as if prompting you to keep your emotions in check.

The rest of the day passed nearly the same as the first half did. Teru’s attention constantly elsewhere, though he did seem to at least try to keep it on you. Hey, you were used to that much… everyone wanted his attention. You couldn’t be the one to deny them of it. Yes, it was normal. That’s what you told yourself, as you stepped into the hallway, making your way towards the student council room. Finally, you’d have a chance to be with Teru, no one out to beg for his attention. Well- Akane would be there, but- honestly, you were plainly aware of his… distaste towards your boyfriend. Really, you didn’t mind it. At least it was someone not trying to take any attention you got at school away from you.

“Yeah! With the way that girl seems to be all over him! I think they’re dating?”

“No, no, isn’t he dating (Y/N)?”

“I think he was? But, he doesn’t really seem to spend as much time with her, you know.”

You shut your locker, the sound echoing much louder than you thought you intended. The conversation ceased, as the two engaged in it glanced in your direction, one muttering some profanity under their breath. Still, you picked up your bag, not wanting to drag two strangers into your personal business. All you had to do was establish that you were the one dating Teru, right? And the first step was… making sure Teru still wanted to date. Despite how you tried to calm and reassure yourself as your legs carried you quickly to the school council room, you could feel a mix of frustration, fear, sadness, and insecurity bubbling up in your stomach. Why was he spending so much time with her? Was she better than you? Did he like her more than you? Of course, how could someone like him choose you…? If you were in his shoes, you were sure you’d pick the other girl…

Soon, you stood in front of the room. Though you reached for the doorknob confidently at first, you froze once your hand was about to rest on it. Nerves were practically eating at you, your heart racing so quickly that you felt dizzy. Heck- when was the last time you were this nervous? When was the last time your emotions ran this rampant?

Gathering your emotions as best as you could, you opened the door.

“(Y/N), good afternoon,” Teru greeted, giving you his usual, sweet smile. Did he smile at the other girl like that?

You didn’t want to lose that smile…

“Teru,” You muttered, voice cracking a bit as tears finally filled your eyes. Instantly, those smiling eyes of his were filled with concern. He was so easily concerned for you. Did he worry for her that easily?

“(Y/N)? What happened-? What’s wrong?” He questioned, standing up and rushing over towards you. Once you noticed that Akane hadn’t arrived yet, Teru reached behind you, one arm resting on your shoulder as he locked any potential intruders out. He knew you wouldn’t want anyone to bother you, if something was upsetting you enough to cry like this in front of him.

“Teru, do you still want to be with me?”

“What? (Y/N), of course-” “Be honest, Teru. If you don’t wanna, then don’t lie to me, please. I understand. I’m not as pretty as her- and I’m not as smart, I know. And she’s popular, like you. And she can talk to people easily, and she’s fit, and thin, and she’s got a pretty, normal smile… a-and I know I’m nothing like her, so I understand. She and I are complete opposites, Teru, so I’m positive she’s more your type.”

“(Y/N), calm down,” Teru spoke, both of his hands now resting on your shoulders, thumbs moving comfortingly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I assure you-”

“You’ve been skipping on things we’ve done since we became friends to spend time with her, Teru. Just today, the two of you spent time together during lunch-”

“Her? (Y/N), darling, you’re joking.”

Your eyes filled further with tears, as you shook your head in frustration. “I’m not joking, Teru!”

“(Y/N), please, sweetheart. Calm down, let me explain, alright? Here, let’s sit down?”

Teru led you to a chair, sitting you in it carefully, then crouching next to you, his hands holding both of yours.

“She’s just trying to get some extracurricular things done, relating to her education. Yes, when she needs help, which I’ll admit has been frequently lately, I told her to go to me. I wasn’t expecting her to need this much help, but I didn’t want to go back on my word. Here, if you’d like, I’ll explain to her that I’m a bit too busy to help all the time. I’ll get Akane to step in a bit, is that alright?”

You sniffled, thinking about what he said. Still, as you processed it, you nodded. Poor Akane indeed, but… you felt slightly relieved.

“Next, you know you’re more my type than anyone, (Y/N). Really, sweetie, I only show her basic human kindness. Even when she gets irritating… with you, I never feel annoyed or irritated. Plus, I can actually express how I feel around you- listen, would I admit to anyone else that I find one of our classmates annoying at times?”

“I’m sure you’d tell anyone how you felt about Akane,” You joked lightheartedly, laughing to yourself. Teru’s slight smile grew to a grin, as he closed his eyes.

“Mmm, maybe? But he’s a different story. Still, I love you, (Y/N). You’re plenty smart- and, if you don’t think so, then who cares? Your lack of confidence in yourself means I get to help you study- and you always end up doing just fine. You’re more than plenty gorgeous- I love everything about you. Your smile, your hair, your skin, your body type, anything and everything. You’re perfect, (Y/N). Perfect for the world, and absolutely perfect for me.”

This time, when you felt your eyes get watery, they weren’t tears of sadness or worry. When you hugged Teru, sniffling lightly once again, he could feel you smile against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for assuming things, Teru-”

“Ah-ah. No need to apologize, (Y/N). Really, you have no reason to apologize… you’re fine, darling.”

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

let me in

this is very different from what I’ve been writing lately. this is just something I have struggled with, and I know there are others out there who also struggle with this. 

please do not self harm. there are so many other ways to deal with problems, self harming will not help. please talk to someone you trust if you are struggling with this. I love you very much and i want you to stay safe and healthy :)

this includes graphic descriptions of self harm, so please do not read if this will be triggering for you!

warnings: self harm, graphic descriptions of self harm, blood, anxiety, angst

word count: 3.5k

You had been getting better. The thin scars on your legs had nearly faded away; they weren’t even noticeable unless you knew where to look. You hadn’t had the urge to harm yourself in what felt like ages. You weren’t even upset when you noticed the faded lines anymore. You knew they were part of your past, not something you needed to keep reliving.

Harry didn’t know. You had stopped soon before you started dating him, and it wasn’t something you really wanted him to know about. Logically, you knew he would never make you feel bad about it. Of course, he would want to make sure you were ok, and you just didn’t want to have that conversation. You were fine. You didn’t want to go through the whole “why would you do this to yourself” because honestly, you didn’t know.

There was also a part of you, albeit a small one, that was scared to see how he would react. What if you were wrong? What if, once you told him, he saw you as a crazy girl who slit her own skin because she was sad? What if he decided you weren’t worth the trouble? What if he didn’t want someone who was broken?

You felt bad keeping this from him, but you told yourself it was for a good reason. The last person you had let see your scars was your ex. He had always been good to you, up until you trusted him enough to show him the ruined skin. He had pulled away, looking mildly disgusted. He had made you feel like an idiot, asking over and over again why you would do something like that to yourself. He even implied you had done it for attention.  

So, you just didn’t tell Harry. It’s not like he would ever need to find out. The scars were faint and high up on your thighs, and there was only one that could really be seen. It’s not hard to explain away one small scar.

Lately, though, something was different. You didn’t know why, you just felt off. Nothing had changed; there was no big stressful life event happening. You weren’t approaching any milestones or anniversaries, those were always hard. You and Harry weren’t having any problems; you were just as in love as ever. You weren’t even stressed at work; in fact, you had been doing very well there for a few weeks now.

Maybe it was just that everything felt too perfect. You weren’t used to having such a stress free time. Ironically, it was making you anxious. It felt like the calm before the storm. The only problem? you had no idea what this storm was, or when it would strike.

You were just constantly on edge. You would flinch when Harry came up behind you, tensing in his arms before you relaxed against him. You were short tempered with your coworkers when all they were trying to do was make polite conversation. You felt like you were constantly on the verge of tears, and the smallest inconvenience made you cry.

Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Harry. He could tell something was wrong, he just didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if asking you about it would upset you more, so he just made sure to let you know he was there for you if you needed anything.

He didn’t know it, but this just made you feel worse. You felt like you were being a terrible girlfriend, being snippy and closed off when he hadn’t done anything wrong. You didn’t have the energy to go into everything right now. You were just tired, mentally and physically. You barely had the energy to get up in the morning, instead snoozing your alarm and rolling over until Harry reminded you that you’d be late for work. Not that you really cared about that anymore.

It was getting harder to care about anything anymore. You were just too exhausted to care about your job or your skincare routine or your favorite tv show. You were still taking care of yourself, but you were pretty much just doing the bare minimum at this point. You knew you weren’t eating enough, and most days you drank much less water than you should. Eventually, Harry got too worried to stay quiet anymore.

“Love, we need to talk,” he said, settling into the couch next to you. “What’s been going on with you? I can tell something is wrong, did I do something?”

“No, of course not,” you said, immediately feeling guilty. “I’ve just been- I don’t know.”

“Been what?”

“Nothing, just- work has been stressful,” you lied. You didn’t really know what else to say. You really had no idea why you felt so miserable and anxious all the time.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you were mad at me,” he said, looking relieved as he pulled you against him.

“No, I’m not. I’m sorry I worried you,” you said, staring blankly ahead over his shoulder.

“Promise you’ll talk to me when you feel this way, yeah? I don’t want you to be sad all alone. I want to help you feel better, and if I can’t, then I want to be sad with you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, clutching his shoulder.

-----

Even though you had Harry’s continued support, you could feel yourself getting worse again. You were more anxious than ever, and you were getting less and less sleep. You knew the two were related, but you couldn’t help it. You laid awake most nights, listening to Harry’s even breathing next to you as you stared at the dark fabric of his sleep shirt. At this point you were getting less than five hours each night.

All the energy you did have was devoted to pretending everything was fine. You forced yourself to smile and be polite to your friends and coworkers. Your family was convinced that you were doing well. Harry was harder to lie to.

You didn’t know it, but he didn’t fall asleep very easily. The even breathing you heard at night wasn’t really a sign of his sleep, but rather him trying to soothe you. He stayed up with you until you fell asleep, only letting himself drift off once you were down. He knew how little sleep you were getting, he just didn’t know why. He didn’t want to press for answers, especially after you had insisted you were ok.  But he couldn’t let this go on. He saw that you were eating less and laying around more. He saw how your fingers constantly fidgeted, pulling at your clothes or picking on your cuticles. He saw that your smile never quite reached your eyes like it used to.

Harry didn’t want to leave you alone. He was worried that something would happen; that the dam holding your feelings back would suddenly break and you would be wrecked. He barely left the house, working from home as much as he possibly could.

Some days, though, he had to go in.

“I’m going to the studio today,” he said, kissing your forehead. “I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”

“Ok,” you said with a small smile.

He held back a sigh, noticing once again how fake the expression looked.

“I’ll text you when we’re finishing up. I can bring something home for dinner, what do you want?”

“Whatever you want’s fine,” you replied, looking down at your nails. They really were in bad shape. You had been pulling at them constantly, not even noticing it most of the time. You just couldn’t keep still, needing a way to release the nervous energy built up inside you.

“Sounds good,” he smiled, picking his keys up from the bowl by the door. “Love you.”

“You too,” you answered, only glancing up at him for a second before you went back to picking at your skin.

He stepped out the door, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts. Almost immediately, your mind drifted to the kitchen.

You weren’t sure when the desire had come back. It had been so long since you had felt the urge to harm yourself. You really thought you would never do it again. Now, every time you were alone, you couldn’t drag your thoughts away from the knives in the kitchen.

You felt your eyes drifting toward the drawer where you kept all the utensils, your mind telling you to go get one. Your heart started to speed up, which was never a good sign. You felt the beginnings of panic as it became harder to take a deep breath. You looked at your hands, clenching them into fists to stop the shaking.

You stood up, taking an uncertain step toward the kitchen.

You took a steadying breath, forcing your lungs to move. The closer you got to the kitchen, the worse you felt. Your hands were shaking nonstop and you felt nauseous, your heart still pounding out of your chest. You knew this was just the anxiety. You weren’t really dying, even though your brain was trying to convince you otherwise. Even though you knew you were physically in a safe place, you didn’t feel like it.

You made your way to the drawer where you knew the knives were, sucking in a deep breath when you pulled it open.

Am I really about to do this?

You picked up the closest one, slamming the drawer shut and sinking down to the floor. You leaned your back against the cabinet, holding the knife in a death grip as you breathed shakily. You slid up the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, inspecting the skin.

Your breath hitched when you saw the single scar, remembering the night you had put it there. You remembered the countless other cuts you had made, all too small to leave noticeable marks.

With those terrible thoughts in your head, you pressed the tip of the knife into your skin, dragging it parallel to the existing scar with enough pressure to leave a small trail of blood.

You exhaled as the pain exploded along the injury. You had forgotten how much this hurt. As much as the cut stung, though, it was better than the horrible restlessness and anxiety. It was grounding.

You dropped the knife to the floor beside you, sliding it away so it was out of your reach. You put your hands over your face, tipping your head back to rest against the wood.

After a few minutes, the open cut was still really hurting. You looked down to see a thin trickle of blood running down your leg. You sighed, standing up and making your way to the bathroom.

You gritted your teeth when you ran a wet cloth over the cut, wiping away the blood. You placed a band-aid over the area, pulling the edges of the injury together in hopes that it would heal faster.

Finally, you changed out of your shorts and into a pair of sweatpants. You didn’t want to take any chances and let Harry see what you had done.

Once everything was cleaned up, you went back to the kitchen to pick up the knife. You rinsed it quickly in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher so you wouldn’t have to see it anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.

-----

Harry came in the house to see nothing had changed. You were still sitting on the couch in the same position with the same expression on your face. The only difference was that you were wearing pants instead of shorts. When he asked, you easily explained it was because you were cold. He didn’t totally believe you, but he didn’t know what to say, so he let it go.

He had decided to bring home McDonalds, knowing how much you loved chicken nuggets. He got concerned, though, when you picked at it and ate less than half of the meal.

“Y/N, really, is something wrong?”

“Hm?” You hummed, looking up.

“Is everything alright? You’re not acting like yourself. You’re not even eating your chicken nuggets.”

“Oh- I just ate a lot today.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said gently. “You haven’t been eating much at all lately.”

“I’m- I’m just not hungry, I don’t know,” you said, avoiding his eyes. “I’m really tired, I think I’m just going to go to bed. Thank you for bringing this,” you stood up from the table, bringing your leftovers to the fridge so you could eat them later. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before padding up the stairs.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, sighing at the dark circles under your eyes. They had been getting more prominent lately with how little sleep you were getting.

You brushed your teeth, ignoring the exhaustion that was clawing at you. All you wanted was to collapse into bed, but there was one other thing you had to do first. You set the toothbrush back in the stand, taking a deep breath. You pulled the sweatpants down, glancing at the cut from earlier. Your stomach turned when you saw how red the area was.

You quickly pulled them back up, flicking off the light switch and making your way back to your room. You were a little surprised to see Harry laying in the bed.

“Are you going to sleep? It’s still pretty early,” you said, glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

“I had a long day,” he smiled, stretching his arms out. “Also, how could I resist cuddling you?”

You smiled, the first genuine one in weeks. Harry’s heart swelled. It felt like forever since he’d seen you happy.

“Come on then!” He said, wiggling his fingers at you.

Once you settled in, you very quickly realized you might have a problem. You were used to sleeping in, as Harry called it, “the most uncomfortable position known to man”. You were mostly on your stomach, but your upper body was slightly twisted so both of your arms were in front of you, wrapped around the edge of the blankets. Harry would throw his arm over your back and one of his legs over yours. This was normally fine, but it also meant the front of your legs were pressed against the mattress.

The sweatpants you wore were smooth, but they felt like sandpaper on the wounded skin of your thigh. You were constantly adjusting, trying to find a position that would allow you to relax. You thought you were being subtle, but apparently not so much.

“Why’re you moving so much?” Harry murmured, not opening his eyes.

“Sorry,” you said quietly. “Can’t get comfy.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re flopping around like a fish out of water,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Am not.”

“You are,” he insisted, grinning wider. “Just go to sleep.”

“Oh, wow, thanks, that’s so helpful,” you said sarcastically. “You’re a miracle worker, really.”

“I know I am,” he smiled, pressing his face against your shoulder.

Despite the stinging pain in your leg, you finally managed to drift off. It was probably the lack of sleep finally catching up to you, combined with the emotional stress of the day.

You snapped awake, feeling a stabbing pain. You sat up, gasping faintly when you saw the thin line of blood staining the white sheets. You quickly made your way to the bathroom, squinting in the sudden light as you pulled your sweatpants down. You must have torn the cut open when you were asleep. Luckily, your pants were black so they wouldn’t show a stain, and the one on the sheets was small enough that Harry probably wouldn’t see it before you could clean it up. You reached for the Kleenex box, pressing a tissue against the cut to stop the bleeding.

Harry mumbled when you got up, his half asleep brain not fully registering your movements. He woke up more when he heard the bathroom door shutting, sitting up against the headboard. He knew it was no use trying to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to relax until you were in his arms again.

After a few minutes, he started to get worried. He stood up, glancing at your side of the bed. He stopped when he saw a small red stain on the sheets. He furrowed his eyebrows, his sleepy mind trying to work something out.

He knocked on the bathroom door.

“Y/N? I saw the sheets. Didn’t you already have your period, last week? What happened?” He started getting concerned, knocking again when he didn’t hear an answer. “Can you hear me? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” You said, your voice wavering.

“You don’t sound fine,” he said, placing a hand on the doorknob. “Can I come in?”

“No- just go back to bed, Harry, I’ll be there in a minute,” you answered quickly, wiping  the tears from your eyes. You were getting really worried; the blood wasn’t stopping and you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/N, what happened?” He asked again. You heard his hand ratting the doorknob, breathing a silent sigh of relief when you remembered you had locked it. “Why is the door locked? You’re worrying me, please let me in?”

“It’s nothing, Harry,” you insisted, sniffling.

“It’s not nothing if it’s making you cry, baby, I can hear you crying,” he said, rattling the doorknob again. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m- you can’t come in,” you said, beginning to feel frantic. You were going to have to find a way to explain this to him, even if the bleeding stopped soon. What were you supposed to say at this point? You were locked in the bathroom, crying on the floor. That was bad enough without the self inflicted cut on your leg.

“Ok,” he relented. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to sit here on the floor until you come out, or let me in.”

You sighed, eyes darting around the room. There was nothing in here to help you; all you could do was press the tissue against the cut and pray it stopped soon.

After a few minutes, you lifted the Kleenex again, wincing when a fresh trickle of blood pooled around your skin.

At this point, you were getting really scared. It had been almost 10 minutes and the bleeding wasn’t getting any lighter. This had never happened before and you didn’t know what to do.

“Harry?” You asked quietly.

“What is it, love?” You heard his voice from the other side of the door.

“I need help,” you sniffled.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice immediately sounding worried.

“It’s- it’s not stopping.”

“What’s not stopping?” You heard the doorknob rattling again. “Y/N, please unlock the door,” he begged.

You obliged this time, shuffling to the door and turning the lock. You sat back, not looking at Harry when he entered.

He immediately kneeled down next to you, inhaling sharply when he saw the blood-soaked tissue in your hand.

“Baby, what happened?” He asked, his eyes going wide.

You didn’t answer, blinking back tears. He gently lifted the tissue away from your leg, gasping again when the blood bubbled up around the edges of the cut.

“How did this happen?” He asked again, grabbing several new Kleenex from the box and pressing them to the area.

You still didn’t say anything, finally meeting his eyes. It only took one look at your sad expression for him to put the pieces together.

“Did you do this?” He asked quietly, not looking away from you.

You only hesitated for a second before nodding, dropping your head in shame as a new wave of tears came to your eyes. There was no point in lying now.

He didn’t say anything, just shifted on the floor. You panicked for a minute, thinking he was going to leave, but you quickly calmed down when he put his arm around you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, resting his head on top of yours. “I’m sorry you’re going through something and I’m sorry I didn’t notice how upset you are.”

“Don’t be,” you sniffled, leaning against him. “It’s not your fault I pushed you away, and it’s not your fault I’m stupid enough to cut open my own skin because I’m sad.”

“Hey,” he said firmly, lifting his head to look at you again. “Don’t talk like that. You are not stupid. I don’t ever want to hear you talking bad about yourself. I love you way too much to allow that.”

“I’m sorry,” you leaned your head against him again, too tired to keep eye contact.

“Remember what I said?” He asked, wiping a tear off your face. “You talk to me when you’re sad. If I can’t help you feel better, I’ll sit with you and we’ll be sad together. But whatever you do, you don’t get to shut me out.”

“I know,” you sniffled again. “I just didn’t want to burden you.”

“Y/N, you could never be a burden. You are the love of my life. I will gladly sit with you and be sad every single day if that’s what you need. You just have to let me in. Promise you’ll let me in?”

“I promise.”

[boredom-thingy]

TL;DR- I have been sorta kinda diagnosed with Executive Function disorder (psychologist said it was very very very likely that I was suffering from it, but he couldn’t do anything) and I think I’m emotionally abused by my parents. I’m still trying to figure out whats what and what problem comes from where and if I can life hack it. I’m looking for help and/or other people suffering from the same things to add to the list. This is my list of symptoms.

Hey, all of you out there who struggle with executive function disorder or have been emotionally abused, or both. I have sorta been diagnosed with EFD and I think I’m being emotionally abused (I could be wrong and over reacting, I honestly can’t tell). Its been a while but I’m slowly discovering more and more symptoms that I thought were normal or scared the shit outta me (and still do) originally. Here’s an incomplete list, mind agreeing or disagreeing with them and adding your own? And/or how you deal with them?

My Incomplete (and ever growing) List-

Time. My sense of time is off, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. There are times when I think something happened 2 months ago when in reality, it happened years ago. I can be left home alone and when my parents get home and ask me what I did for hours on end, I have zero clue, its just a blank hole. I lose track of time extremely easily too.

Other Disorders. I often feel like my particular brand of screwyness happens to combine other mental illnesses/disorders like insomnia, depression, anxiety, adhd, add, odd, and paranoia among others

Depersonalization/derealization(dissociation). Especially here recently, I think I’ve been suffering from episodes of Depersonalization-derealization disorder. Its happened in the past but not as much as right now.

I feel like I’m going insane. Constantly. I feel like I’m over-reacting to everything, like everything is in my imagination.

I always feel like I’ve done something wrong/upset people. People I don’t know, people I do know, people I love. I always feel like I’ve upset them or I’m some kind of burden or I’ve done something wrong. (Leads to me apologizing to a chair for hitting it.)

Extreme clumsiness. This one is prolly just me. But its often a source of anxiety for me.

Social skills are next to nothing. I can’t make friends. All the ones I have were introduced to me by other people or approached me on my own. And most of the time they end up ditching me and telling me its my fault. Also, my timing is shit. I’ll walk up and ask you for something while you're busy.

Cotton. I feel like my head is full of cotton, like I can’t think straight. My thoughts are either spaghetti or a train wreck. I lose track of what I was thinking extremely easily.

Memory. My memory is shit. My parents claim its not, and I feel like it didn’t used to be, but it is now. I forget how to do something when I read or heard the instructions 10 seconds earlier. I forget things that are important to me, things that I wanted to get or do. I forget when things happened (ties in with the time issue.) I can’t remember important life events, or more accurately, I can remember them, but the memory seems weirdly muddled and I cant remember when it happened.

Food. I love food. But there are times when I’m light-headed and dizzy, and I know I should eat, but I just... Don’t want to. The thought makes me nauseous, its too hard to get up, I’m not actually feeling hungry (despite the fact that I can hear my angry tummy and I can feel the light-headed/dizziness), etc. 

Being left alone (especially with not much to do). I don’t fear abandonment (ok I do a little, but that not the problem here.) I fear my own brain. I hate being left alone, especially for long periods of time because when I run out of things to keep my mind occupied, all those thoughts I forced to go away come steam rolling back. Intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, self harm thoughts, extremely depressing thoughts, disturbing thoughts that scare me witless, thoughts of running away, etc. I can’t stand my own brain. It scares me.

Motivation. I go to school online, 4.1 gpa (so far) and I am a fairly self motivated person. But there are times when I can barely find the motivation to grab my glasses off the nightstand 2 inches from my face and other times when I’m motivated to do something, I’m almost in a frenzy, and I’m hyper-focused on it. And there are times when I really want to do something (usually something that I love, like a hobby) but the thought of doing it makes me nauseous and I just don’t want to. Or if its a creative thing, like writing, I can’t seem to form a single idea or spark to get me started. My brain nopes out and I can’t do anything but stare at the paper, desperately wanting to write, but my brain is a bout as blank as the paper is.

Body-brain disconnect. Sometime my body and my brain seem to be on separate wavelengths. I want to stop scrolling through pinterest, but I can’t seem to make myself. I want to get up and eat, I know I need to, but I can’t make myself. I want to get up and do dishes or take a shower or do something, but my body just wont move. I want to go do something fun, like watch tv or draw, but I’m no moving, no matter how much I want it.

Pain. I am always in some kind of physical and/or mental pain. Headaches(near constant dull headache), back aches(always), cramps even when no where near that time(I am female), random muscle twitches/spasms/aches, etc. Oh and nausea. I’m nauseous a LOT. I also am light-headed or dizzy (or both) a lot.

Extreme mood swings.  I go from being so happy I could burst to emotionally shut down and sobbing in the corner in the blink of an eye. I go from being so pissed off that I want to slam my fist through a wall and break things to being so depressed I want to kill myself and repeatedly slam my head against the wall until I can’t see straight. I also sometimes get extremely frustrated/angry with the smallest things, like a noise, or something not working right, or the pets being annoying. Sometimes it gets to the point where I want to scream and break something or hit something (I never do and try my absolute hardest not to.)

Morbid thoughts. Fleeting morbid thoughts, generally about somehow injuring/harming myself. I might see a light socket and think “oh hey, you should stick a fork in that and see what happens” or I might see a pair of nail clippers or scissors and think “I wonder what would happen if I tried to cut x-spot on my body with those.” When I was younger, I used to want to sew patterns in my skin with a sewing needle and thread (never did, thank god) so they would scar over and create neat patterns on my skin.

War. I feel like I'm at war with my own brain, I talk to myself a lot. (I am an only child with parents that run their own business ((making them constantly busy)) so that is very possibly a reason I talk to myself. I also have very few friends and I talk to walls and my two dogs as well.) I tell my brain to shut up, to stop it, I feel like it has a mind of its own. Thats weird to say. (woooooo I'm totally crazy, right?)

Apologies. I apologize to literally everything. And about everything. I’ll apologize to a chair for bumping it. I apologize to my boyfriend when I rant to him or ask for help from him. I apologize for anything and everything, small or big. The bigger the issue, the more embarrassed and upset I am about it. Even if its not big to the other person. Ties in with always feeling like I did something wrong.

Defense. I am always on the defense, and sometimes it turns into offense. I always feel like I have to defend myself and everything I do or say that might have even the smallest chance of upsetting someone. And if I know it has or will upset someone, I defend myself more, to the point that it sometimes becomes offense. I can’t stop myself, I feel like I have to defend myself or I’m going to lose something or someone, or they’re going to take something I want or love away from me.

Noises and other various audio things.  Sometimes I feel like I can just barely hear someone calling my name, or a song, or a noise, or something just barely audible, but no matter how much I search for it, I can’t find it. Other times I can quite clearly hear someone calling my name, but I’m home alone, or when I ask my parents or the other people around me, they respond with confusion and a “no one called your name.” Other time noises, like beeps from the printer, even when I’m the one causing it and/or I’ve heard it multiple times in the past few minutes, jar me. They cause a jarring sensation, that is almost bone deep, I feel it in the back of my skull and it causes me to jump just a little.

All of these things are terrifying to me at various levels and they only seem to be getting worse. I study psychology for fun, I plan on going into it as a profession, eventually. I have done research on most of this, but I can’t find much on any of it (except emotional abuse), especially executive function disorder. Please help? (I am always adding to things when I think of more.)

@bradshore @katimorton @we-care-org

[kittenwithsecrets]

A letter you’ll never read

It’s been 2 days and I wonder if you’ve thought of me at all. 

I wonder if you’ve missed me even the slightest bit. 

Because you’ve been all I can think about. 

I feel like I need to meet you one last time to get the closure I need. I want to ask you so many questions; the same ones that keep running through my mind over and over again. But I don’t know if I can muster up the courage to see you. I don’t know if I can survive the aftermath. So here’s to hoping writing my heart out will help ease the pain a little. 

A part of me hopes you’ll text and ask how I’m doing just so I can tell you - 

I can barely sleep. I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night only to wake up in tears again. I haven’t been able to go to work because I can’t stop from bursting into tears throughout the day. Honestly, at this point I’m about to cry myself into dehydration. My stomach is constantly in knots and I’m always nauseous despite the fact that I can’t bring myself to eat. What little food I try to eat tastes like ashes in my mouth. It’s hard to breathe too. It feels like I’ve got a massive weight on my chest slowly crushing me. Getting out of bed is difficult, moving around is difficult; I feel so weak. 

I knew heart break would hurt, I just never knew how much. I think I liked you more than I knew too. The vindictive part of me hopes that you’d would somehow come across this and in knowing, in understanding, you’d hurt. Even if the pain is not as much as what I feel, I want to make you hurt too. 

It’s driving me crazy, wondering which one of us is the fool. Have I been a complete idiot over the past one year? Or have you been leading me (and other girls) on? 

I want to ask you how many FWBs you’ve had since you arrived in Singapore. How many of them ended up confessing their love for you. How many of them are you still friends with. If this is a recurring thing, maybe I’m not the stupid one after all. Maybe you really have been playing with us all this time. Maybe you’re really the problem, not us. Is it fun for you, seeing how many broken hearts you can collect? 

I want to know what you think friends without benefits mean? What exactly have we done that you think constitutes friendship? We’ve never gone out to do platonic activities like you have with the others. We’ve never gone out on any small trips like you have with the others. I’ve always wondered why. Am I only worth a dinner and a fuck? And I’ve always been too scared to push for more. Would you think that it would resemble a date too much? Would you think me too needy? 

Then suddenly we were talking about JB. We were talking about KL and Tioman and God, the excitement and anticipation was killing me. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt happier. To think I would get to see you twice this week, first a night out on Wed then a whole day in JB on Sat. I was so giddy with glee. I wanted to create all these additional memories that I could share with you alone. Maybe we’d finally have a photo together. We were so close. Now I don’t know how I’m going to survive tomorrow. 

When you pulled the rug out from under my feet Wed morning, it felt like my world came crashing down. I took me so long to understand your message; This is it, we’ve come to the end. What a message to wake up to. Written so curtly. So cold. Nothing to help cushion the intent of it all. I wonder if you understand how cruel and callous that was. A whole year wasted. Well, 7 days short of a whole year. So much time spent together. Are you really so oblivious that you thought it wouldn’t affect me at all? Did you ever stop to consider how I felt? I guess I already have the answer to that- not at all.   

I now wonder why I was stupid enough to think that showering you with gifts every time I saw you would show you meant so much more to me. Do all your friends shower you with gifts? Did the other girls you saw do the same? Maybe it wasn’t something special at all for you; I clearly wasn’t special at all. I was just one of the many. I feel so stupid for going to the lengths I did for you, whether you knew it or not. Did you really think it was a coincidence that I’d have something new to let you try almost every time I met you? Did it ever cross your mind that I’d go out of the way to get something for you? I wish you knew how my heart broke when I opened my drawer at work to find out the snacks I hid from my colleagues just to keep them for you to try. To go home to see the packs of HK snacks I carefully packed for you.   

Most importantly, I wish I could understand how we ended up here. 

So unexpected. So unthinkable. 

You fell in love. 

And not with me. 

I wonder if you understand how much more difficult you’ve made it for me because you kept saying you never wanted anything serious right now. You didn’t want something monogamous. Again and again and again. Over and over until I had to repeat it to myself to keep reminding myself not to ask for more.   

You kept telling me stories about the girls you stopped seeing because they fell in love with you. Do you have any idea how scared I was every time I heard that? That you might find out that I felt something stronger for you than I should be allowed to? I kept telling myself to stay quiet, I’ve lasted the longest, it’s not worth it to say anything and ruin it all. Being patient would be the answer. One day, maybe you’d be ready, and maybe you’d think of me. 

Now, I want so badly to know if it would have made a difference if I had said anything earlier. Would you have pushed me away or would it have made you consider the possibility of an us? Maybe I should have fought for a chance. Maybe I should have forced you to think about an us. But I guess if I couldn’t make you feel the slightest thing for me in a year, I wouldn’t have been able to even if I had ten. I wish I understood this earlier. 

It hurts so badly, knowing you would never have chosen me. That you only saw me as a dear friend. Despite all the time we spent, all the things I tried to do for you, that was all you could see in me. I keep wondering what it is about her that made you fall in love with her. What does she have that I don’t? What could she give you that I couldn’t? I wonder what it is that I could have done that might have made you fall in love with me instead. I keep thinking what’s wrong with me. I keep wondering why I wasn’t good enough for you. 

Because that’s the crux of it all isn’t it? I’m not good enough for you.

I wish you lied to me Wed morning. I wish you told me that you just didn’t want to continue whatever we had between us. I think it would have hurt less.   

The small part of me that’s already started healing also wonders how much love has blinded me. Maybe you’re not a good person. Maybe you’re not as nice and sweet as I thought you were. Maybe you really are cruel and callous and oblivious and self-indulgent. I can’t believe you said you didn’t realise my feelings went deeper than what I showed. Am I that good an actress? I don’t understand why you wouldn’t have given me some signs or warnings to prepare me that this was coming to an end. Can someone really realise that they’ve fallen in love within the span of 14 hours? Shouldn’t it take a little more time? 

You say you’re happy you met me. I say I wish I never met you. 

You say you’ll treasure our memories. I say I don’t want to remember them, they’re all tainted with pain. 

I don’t want to remember you. 

You’re my biggest mistake and I wish you could feel the pain that I’m in right now. 

You broke my heart, but it feels like you might have broken me too…

[commonalex]

Venus 3000

Definitely not my day. Either it will be my phone not ringing, either the ship getting slow as fuck to the platform or even Emily as I see her (and she sees that I see her) right before I was skipping line from a mexican dude for a sandwich. And neither did I get a nod nor a sandwich. Fuck.

I don't know why I said hi, I surely wasn't at my best and she didn't look too ok with it. I could pretend to study these ugly backs of the seats in front of me or keep on looking at the Pacific from my window while she was passing to seat at the first class. Sure, I could. But I was itching to learn why and how she justs appears here and just sits along with the richie rich folk. If only this notification for email and this nervous air hostess nagging about turning off out devices didn't hold me back from asking her on the spot.

"A reminder.

Make sure to fix your attitude and send some content, some good content this time, or we'll have problems to solve. Patience only lasts that long.

Sam, Assistant Manager."

Ah, simple, straight to the point and obnoxious Sam-the-assistant-manager as always, which she thinks she rules the world now that every serious person took a week of for the summer and she's left behind. I don't quite blame her, but she was asking me to reportabout local brunch restaurants and sunscreens just for the ads, only to get me to fly to Venus because Tyler got sickand all that crap.

Venus is just a dusty volleyball from the window when we get awaken by the stuff. Dunno if that's a tradition or not, but the pilot seemed to think that it was a good idea to sing happy birthday to each passenger that had birthday during the three month flight. It really was a good idea since I barely forgot Emily's birthday. I get myself around the seatbelts and get right back to them after the air hostess gives me the side eye. I take a minute to think about this and I see that i'ts kinda tricky to just play friends with her, so I stick to my shit. I take a look at my seat personal notifications to see what I missed. My sister's cat my only casualty. Pretty good if you compare that to the others beside me crying their eyes out for their loved ones that turned out less alive than expected. I guess I got pretty lucky. For a bit.

Cause this yuppie next to me takes his chance at starting a conversation with me about his newborn grandchild and as I'm known to enjoy this type of junk I tolerate this quirky little video of his daughter giving birth feeling physically disturbed. So disturbed I look away constantly, till I catch Emily in tears going to the bathroom of the first class (which is right in front of our class). I get closer to ask her what's wrong, only to get a cold shoulder. And I don't know what fucked me up the most, her attitude or this cringy video being almost twenty minutes long and me not having enough balls to tell him to stop it.

The pilot and his amazing texan accent wish us a nice stay at the colonies, thanking us for using Venus 3000 (yeah, wow) while I try to shut my helmet until the 'click'. We get out around this orange fog with some beacons shining in rhythm from far away. The reception authorities takes each one of us by the hand like babies until we get used to the different pressure. I take off my helmet first and try to communicate with this nice lady that holds me like her nephew about the distance from the hotel. I'm tired as hell and ready to sleep to my death.

I wake up from another notification from Sam-the-assistant-manager, underlying her previous nice words and sending me the schedule that I have to follow. If I can manage my time right, I could even get a second to pee between all those events, interviews and tryouts to get some footage (since the colonies authorities, for a reason I didn't quite get, were too willing to look for photos or videos you took during your time here, something that makes me understand what really got Tyler sick). But I shouldn't complain. It's only ten days and I got through the first one.

I get down, take just three bits and flee asking the reception about the Virtual Plaza where my appointment with the summer deputy head of the souther colony waits for me. I take the train get blown away by the ride. This so goddamn blue sky with small orange scratches from the dome, those weird asymmetrical buildings, those huge statues and columns resting on a never ending grass field and this coast. Yeah, coast as like sea (well, it's a big realistic pool, but still). I'm legit shook like the other passengers inside the train.

Somewhat irritated but gentle enough to not show it that much, Stephen Wang welcomes me with his uptight gestures and slick but uncomfortable warm suit (the colonies are always quite hot and summery). He looks a bit cold and all, but I get around him easily. Asking for some pics and then some answers to standard questions that no one gets uncomfortable with (about how he got here, how he feels, what the hell are the americans trying to build in this place along with these weird security measures) except for his security beast that checks my camera for footage and carries Stephen back to his car.

I walk around Virtual Plaza and see several kids bouncing around, playing with the slightly tweaked gravity in front of their disgustingly rich parents. Next to them some plain tourists playing with their drinks (it's too early for that) and a whole group of other tourists walking to the beach. I follow them creepily (they are in their swimsuits and I'm full clothed with a camera around my neck, just so everyone can get a bit uncomfortable) to this (close to a mile wide) shore where I let water touch my naked feet. It takes time to grasp what I really touch and/or feel.

Tired as hell, I return to the hotel to eat for the noon, getting several Venus facts from the speakers (couldn't give less of a fuck about them, though). And there she is once again, Emily, standing at the bar looking absolutely gorgeous, wearing something that costs like three times my salary. I get noticed, I smile at her, she smiles back and I decide to get to her while a old and bald penguin dude takes her by her hand for a spin. Not really hungry after that. I'm walking to the elevator with her quietly closing in. I look at her by accidentand see the same bitterness in her eyes, just like then before the take off.

Sleeping is not so easy on Venus. They tried all they could to simulate earth-like conditions (like day and night scheduling etc.), but that can't stop my biological clock from going nuts. So I fill my nights by looking at old convos with Emily as I deliberately avoiding her for the rest of the day. As for the work stuff, I managed to convince Sam that the communication delays are a pain in the ass and I can't send daily reports to get away with them. Sometimes I go for long night time walks, but those irish students looking for trouble and those faux cops that caught me filming the artificial forest the other day restrict me from enjoying anything but my room's satellite tv.

Days get so dry, dull and empty, too. When I don't have to ask the exact same things to weird army guys and Elon Musk wannabees, I need to listen at tiring speeches that all end up in how advanced and cool and hip this test is not only for humanity, but every form of life back to Earth. From top notch scientists and disgustingly rich white people to stupid youtubers and Robbie Williams (not kidding), all those people came exclusively to praise this initiative of the western world that officially puts the tombstone on the soviets after nearly ninety years of competition (not that it was that hard in the first place).

It only took a couple walks for me to see what those colonies had to offer me. All of those bright white columns, weird looking hotels and disturbingly tall palm trees just seem unpolished and lazy to me. Sand's just grated rocks, the sea smells like a chemistry lab, the food is processed to death and even the temperature gets a bit weird sometimes. The colonies are nothing more than huge hotel facilities, sprawling sparsely over a small island that floats in a large swimming pool. I'm fed up hearing about the hope of the future that starts herewhen I see old, pale fucks keeping on eating foie gras and using oil. This whole project is an ad that targets only the Kylie Jenners of this world that have a daily life of eating, sleeping and swimming in cash.

Sam-the-assistant-manager sure begs for these kind of reviews, but I'm risking my head for her. I only send her a draft without a slump of criticism, because I don't want any of those faux cops fucking with me just for writing bad things for them.

Three days before my flight, Stephen Wang drags me with his nerdy hands for another tour around the colonies. Oh look, art exhibitions, dance festivals, Robbie Williams (I needed this second time to make sure it was really him), even a luxurious cruise with a boat that smells just like burnt plastic. All slapping newand moderninside their names. All getting more and more random in my eyes. Wang clearly sees my disappointment and becomes troubled. He asks me if everything's fine, I respond with yeap, why notand not one second later I just leave my breakfast inches from the stern of the boat. So many days I spent here, and I only got to succeed in making a successful thirty year old career man lose his shit and getting nauseous from a pool. A fucking swimming pool.

Two days before my flight, my article looks like it's never gonna make it, especially with Sam's moaning about me giving away my hidden footage to Wang as an act of goodwill to the poor guy. I could finish the article regardless, but my mind starts to fade away. I spend more time looking at the forest from the window of my room than typing. It's already dark when a knock on the door kills my boredom. Emily knows me well enough to put aside my difficulty at finding something to say, dragging me to the beach with this cute rudeness that only she can pull off.

-You can be really mean if you want to

What can you say to her when she's one hundred percent right? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

-It's really hard for me to deal with your presence anymore, Emily. Try to understand me.

-Still, I don't deserve this kind of behavior;

-I know. And as far as you should know, I'm glad I found you here

-Really?

Really. But...

-But I don't quite prefer I found you here. It's not good for me to see you after all this times. I don't know how I could make this sound less douchey, but it is what it is.

I'm holding her hand to make her stay. She tries really hard not to hit me.

-You're making it so damn hard to trust you, you know that? I know you for so long and I still can't figure out if you crack jokes or turn serious.

I have a really hard time figuring this out myself, as well.

-I'm serious. It bugs me to act like nothing happened and this bald fuck touching you doesn't make it easier for me.

-You didn't seem to have this problem before, right? Let me remind you that it was you that didn't want to commit. What changed?

-Nothing

-You want it your way, as always

-Just like you, right? Only difference I have to wait for you to decide what exactly you want from me

-You're so bitter

-I'm in love

I can't stand fighting with her. She can't stand fighting with me. That's why we slow down a bit. We get cautious at our words now, we're testing each other's defences to avoid getting hurt.

-John passed away

-I'm really sor-

-No. No you are not. It's ok I guess, but I spent so much time with him and it got to me pretty hard

-You are wrong, I'm not that petty

-I was hunting you down for so many days to talk to you. You were hiding from me

It's difficult to make myself look more stupid.

-How you got here?

-John's health went south and he didn't want me to see him like this. It was something like a last gift from him.

-So you got this penguin to comfort you

-Please. Please don't make me regret my decision to talk to you. Please. I needed you in my life so damn much

I hate her for doing this. Not because she does it deliberately, but because it works. Most of the time.

-I think we have to stop having any type of contact, Emily. We can't do this anymore, can we?

I believe in what I say, I know I do, but it feels wrong actually saying, if that makes sense.

-You can't make it so damn easy to me. You just can't

-What do you mean?

-I do not intend to come back. I'm gonna stay here. Not coming back, like at all. You understand?

Oh I understand all right.

Just one day before my flight, I'm buried by the bed sheets and Emily. She plays with my hair and I lock myself on her as the purple dome turns to morning blue. Everything seems so right and wrong. Only this time there's no husband getting between us, just me feeling read to fall right off the window.

-Do not forget me, ok? I know I wont

And that's my soul being smashed to million pieces.

I greet her being super dazed, no idea why. My mouth is dry from the stress, the joy, the exhaustion and I can't help but puke inside the (empty, luckily) elevator. I'm sick, like legit sick. So sick that I lock myself back to my room ust to cry for god knows how long, only to get stopped by Sam. Where's the article, up your ass you fucking moron. I only got ten hours to get my head straight and there's no time for your dumb shit.

It is the same old lady who took me by the hand on my arrival that awaits with a big smile. I try to smile back but my lips are not responding. I could swear she almost pushes me to the plane, before I catch myself dragging my steps like a child. I get my helmet off to let me guilts breathe, trying to figure out how big I fucked up, how much of a coward I am for running away or how dumb I was for thinking about staying for her.

My condition's only getting worse. My ears are ringing as the passengers are sitting around me. They are somehow trapping me and I try to squeeze my eyelids until everything gets blurred so I can't understand much of what's going on and my plan's working pretty well until this australian chick shouts at the air hostess because I give her the creeps. I get up and get to the bathroom. I splash my face, look at my reflection, get disgusted, vomit and get out even more dazed than before.

A couple hundred of old ladies are staring at me with their either frighten eyes, waiting to see just where will I collapse. Unfortunately for them, Emily picks me up and sits me back down. Emily. Emily got a ticket and leaves. She leaves. She changed her mind and she leaves. With me.

-Be careful now, You all right?

-Emily, I think I love y-

-What?

Her face freezes, like I said something wrong to her. Her cheeks lose all of their color, those markings on her neck disappear, her long hair get more and more grey. I'm panicking, what the fuck is going on? Why is she like that? What did I do?

Nothing. I did nothing. It took a minute to get back to normal but here I am, stuck in my seat before sleeping, feeling the need to dig a hole on the floor and jump inside. Because it wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

[plus-dementia]

1st September 

I woke up to a text from Zoe… saying she bought us both Paramore tickets for January!! She won’t let me pay her back. I told her she’s not allowed to give me another Christmas or birthday present ever again. I’m so lucky to be surrounded by the people I am. Mom is so much more comfortable today. She’s wide awake as soon as I get downstairs. A new set of nurses have arrived this morning. We’ll be seeing them every day, four times a day. They’re here to make sure she’s comfortable and doesn’t need changing or moving. The woman who’ll be with us every day is called Avril. She’s really funny. I get showered and bring my makeup downstairs. I sit with mom while I’m doing it. She watches me through my mirror. As I’m doing it two of the neighbours come round. They tell me and Anne-Marie how proud mom was of us. We’re told this constantly, even by people we don’t know. Aunty Mary and Gerardine arrive while the neighbours are still here. They leave shortly after. I think they know this is family time now. Aunty Mary and Gerardine have barely been in mom’s room two minutes when a nurse from St Mary’s hospice comes round. She’s here to get to know us and what our plans are incase we do have to end up getting mom a room with them. Me, dad and Anne-Marie go separately in to the living room with her. She asks us questions about mom before and all the way during dementia. She seems to really want to get to know our whole story and not just what she’ll be a part of. I don’t think we’ve had that from any one else over the past few weeks. It’s strange talking about mom at the start of dementia. We all seem to have noticed the change in her at different stages. It sounds like I noticed first. We spent the most time together at the time of her changing. Anne-Marie was at uni and dad worked longer hours then. As we’re talking the home phone starts ringing. I answer it. It’s Aunty Marion. She was taking nan to the doctors today to talk about her chemo. Nan has pancreatic cancer. She’s missed a few treatments because her blood or iron levels, I don’t know which, were too low. We’ve been trying to get her to eat more to help this, but the chemo makes her nauseous. Catch 22. Aunty Marion tells me the doctor has said nan has lost too much weight. She has to go on steroids for three weeks, and if that doesn’t work she can’t have chemo anymore. This is the only treatment option she can have. Another bit of bad news. What great timing. I tell her I’ll get dad to ring her back once the hospice nurse has left. When I walk back in the room, everyone knows something is wrong. We carry on our conversation and the hospice nurse comes through to meet mom. As she’s finishing writing her notes, Avril comes back, along with a district nurse. We leave the room to let them carry on sorting mom. Just as they all leave, I tell dad and Anne-Marie what Aunty Marion said. Dad looks exasperated. Like his day couldn’t get any worse. He speaks on the phone to Aunty Marion for a while. I don’t ask what they spoke about and he doesn’t tell me. They’re coming back to ours now though. We’ve been trying to keep Uncle Gez busy with odd jobs to help him find a new routine. His life used to revolve around our nan and her routine. When we lost her, it was almost perfect timing that he could transfer that on to mom. There’s going to be no one left for him to really care for once mom has gone, so I think everyone’s trying to prepare him slowly. Me and Anne-Marie mention to Aunty Gerardine that it might seem to him like we’re keeping him away from mom. We think it’s a good idea that he has one on one time with her today. After all, second to dad he was her main carer. Natalie and Marina arrive. We could lunch together. As we are, Nan and Aunty Marion arrive back. Nan looks a bit down, but no one mentions anything about earlier’s news. She’s offered food straight away and for once she accepts the offer. Me, Nat and Marina eat our lunch while everyone else looks through the photos they brought back from Nanny’s house. After we’ve finished, and most people have left for lunch, the three of us go and sit with mom. Nan, Anne-Marie and Aunty Marion are still looking at photos. Tash rings and asks why Aunty Marion didn’t tell her she was coming over again. She wanted to visit. Aunty Marion thought she didn’t, but she must have gotten mixed up with Clariece. She has to leave to go home anyway. As she stands up, mom wakes up for the first time since she’s been here. She seems to keep doing that with Aunty Marion. We joke how she’s being rude and ignoring her. When me, Nat and Maz are left alone, I put on some 80s music, as that was mom’s favourite. We decide to have a glass of wine while we’re talking. Mom is staring at our glasses even though she never really drank wine. Her drink was Baileys. She must be thirsty, so I give her some water off the sponges. After two goes, she doesn’t open her mouth, so I stop trying. She must be in pain. The nurses come again so we leave the room. I remember that Nat and Marina are the only people who’ve visited and not had a photo with mom. I mention it to them and they say they’d like to have one. We go back in and mom’s eyes are closed. I ask her to wake up and she half opens her right eye. I tell her we’ll only be two seconds. She opens both and as I go to take the photo she’s closed them again. For another few minutes we try and make her open them. She eventually does and I take the photos. As soon as my phone is brought down, they’re closed again. Just enough time for the photo and then done. I need to get an external hard drive for my phone and Nat needs to go shopping, so we all leave to go to town. We walk to the train station and our train is cancelled. The next one is in half an hour. We decide to wait. I start to worry because I only wanted to pop out the house for an hour. We walk round a few shops and I end up leaving about 2 hours in. They ask me to go for a drink but I want to get home to mom. And all I’ve eaten today was that small lunch we had earlier. I get to the train station and dad is supposed to be picking me up. He’s ten minutes late so I ring. He’s never late, so I worry something wrong. Everything is fine. Avril has come over and he lost track of time talking to her. When we get home, I’m looking for something to eat and notice Margaret has made us a cottage pie. That’s just what I needed. Home cooked food. Nan is sitting in the room with mom. For some strange reason, mom is watching football on the tv. She’s never liked football, but she must like the movement on the green screen. Even weirder, she’s managed to eat 3/4 of a mouse nan had brought in for herself. She hasn’t eaten that much in two weeks. She hasn’t eaten anything in two weeks. She seems to be defying the odds and constantly surprising us. Aunty Mary, Gerardine and Uncle Gez come back over after dinner. Mom is still wide awake and we’re all so surprised. She’s turned a bit nocturnal. Me and Aunty Gerardine and Anne-Marie and Aunty Mary joke that we’re on two teams now: the red heads and the brunettes. We all start taking the micky out of each other. If we laugh long enough, you almost forget what’s going on. Until mom is brought up in conversation. It’s sad knowing she’s in the room next door, probably gutted she can’t join in. She was always the centre of every conversation. Me and Aunty Gerardine go and sit in with mom. We start looking through the photo album from the day I was born. Mom is still so interested and observant with photos. You can see her eyes scanning through the people. She can definitely still recognise faces, as she looks at me when seeing my baby photos. I like to think we have an unspoken language now, where she looks at me when she wants me to skip to a new photo. Mom stares at me so much. Even if I don’t talk to her, I’ll look over and she’s still looking at me. I’d love to know what she’s thinking or would say to me if she could. As we’re looking through mom and dad’s wedding photos, Aunty Gerardine asks Uncle Gez who lots of people are. I think she already knows, so I wonder if it’s asking or testing him. Me and Aunty Gerardine leave, and Aunty Mary goes in. It’s nice to leave them together as brother and sisters. I can’t imagine going through something like this with Anne-Marie. They leave quite early to let us all sleep. Dad looks so tired today. As I go in to say goodnight to mom, I give her a kiss and she makes a noise while her mouth’s open. I ask her if she’s trying to speak to me, and a few seconds later she makes a louder and longer sound. That’s the first time I’ve heard a sound that isn’t coughing or choking from her in probably a year. I like to think she was trying to say something to me then. I just wonder what it was.