Thinking about how deranged this thanksgiving was.
I hit a kid with my cane. I popped so many painkillers. I hit a kid with my cane again. I went black Friday shopping and came back only with things that weren't on sale. I hit that kid with my cane so hard in the shin he's gonna need a cane, too. I had a religious crisis. I threw my cane at that kid in the passenger seat because he said I don't need handicap parking. Some dude dressed in a really nice santa costume was just standing at the end of his driveway waving at cars and I barked violently at him. I fucking punched that kid. I spent more money on a dog than my family. I still bought that kid ice cream because I hate him but I hate the company I took the money from more. At some point I just fell asleep under the dinner table. I played Minecraft with that kid and he's a fucking loser. I had a whole therapy session in the car trauma dumping for the two hour drive home. I'm going to ruin that kids life I'm just too tired right now. It's been days and I still feel hungover. I didn't even drink.
Needless to say I think the spirit of doctor House possessed me for thanksgiving. Either way 10/10 would do again and Christmas is either gonna put me in jail or back on Lexapro
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no i'm emotional because when i was i was 12 i loved percy jackson so so much and directly because of that i met my partner, and when i was 12 percy was also 12 and he met his annabeth. and now i'm 17 and i'm applying for university and so is my partner and so are percy and annabeth because we literally fucking grew up together bro. we. we fucking grew up together at the same time and we all made it bro we all fucking made it
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i need ken to squeeze all of the sadness out of me. or til my spine snaps in half. whichever comes first. he hugs me super tight and lets me wear his sweater while I cry into his chest. he says something stupid in attempts to make me laugh. it works a little. we watch cartoons and he keeps his arms around me the whole time. i am smothered in plushies. plushies don’t normally cheer me up but he thinks they’re helpful so who am I to deny my boyfriend of piling 50 plushies around us like we are in a fortress made out of stuffed animals, mainly consisting of horses and those little palm pal ponies
Six is ready with hair ties on his wrist 24/7 to hold my hair back if I’m vomiting during a flashback. he knows all about c-ptsd and nightmares and flashbacks. he’s lived through it all. he gets it. he spoons me even if I can’t sleep we just lay there and he promises nothing is gonna come and hurt me anymore, and even if something did try to get me, he’d stop it before it even comes close to me. his shoelace is tied to the door so he’ll jolt awake if someone tries to come in. he tells me stories about when he and his brother were kids; the good times, even if there weren’t that many, there are some good memories. his voice is a nice distraction, there’s a certain grit to it, especially when he’s so tired.
driver isn’t a man of words but he would leave little doodles in my sketchbook like “me and you” and it’s two stick figures holding hands. he writes “I love you” on a post it note and sticks it on a styrofoam box with an extra slice of apple pie on the counter. he tells Shannon I’m having a bad time so Shannon goes out of his way to give me extra hugs every time we stop by the garage. we go for a drive and he turns the music up because he knows how loud the depressive thoughts can get. his hand holding mine the whole time. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face when he glances at me to make sure I’m ok is worth a thousand words.
jacob hasn’t experienced ptsd but he’s experienced his fair share of loneliness and possibly depression. he is, in his own words, wildly unhappy and he’s bought so many things to try to make that loneliness go away. he distracts me by showing me all of his stupid things he’s wasted money on… such as calf pants (pants for your calves). that one makes me laugh. he makes us each an old fashioned so I can “loosen up” and in the middle of drinking he admits he doesn’t even like the taste all that much, he was just told that’s what he’s “supposed” to drink (like when Ryan said in an interview he doesn’t even enjoy the things he’s doing and saying and wearing. he’s only doing it because he thinks it makes him successful). either way he gets me to laugh and that was his ultimate goal. we ditch the drinks and just eat fruity pebbles straight out of the box at 2 in the morning
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Dealing with your dead parent's financial mess sure is An Experience. It's 50% stress, 50% complex collaborative problem-solving, and 50% feeling like you're in the audience of a convoluted and absurd comedy skit that keeps throwing up punchline after punchline.
In six months, I went from someone who had a reasonably well-to-do parent who I was estranged from for the sake of my wellbeing, and whose inheritance I was thinking of refusing to spare myself the family infighting, to being the one who has to juggle several debtors, thousands of euros' worth of someone else's debts, several institutions who don't communicate with each other half the time, and the additional surprise paperwork generated by everyone else involved having signed themselves the fuck out of this mess. I wasn't prepared for how complicated the bureaucratic aftermath of a death would be on a good day, and I certainly wasn't prepared for the bureaucratic bog that is the death of someone whose main response to financial problems had apparently been "I'm not paying for that" for several years.
Thank heavens that debt isn't automatically inheritable in my country, and thank fuck there was nothing substantial to inherit there. At the moment I'm basically an unpaid case manager who will not become personally responsible for his case's liabilities as long as he does everything by the book. Also the book was written by someone who didn't quite realise that a case like this could happen. The standard assumption within the public system seems to be that an estate will have some debt and some funds, and likely end up on the black side of the ledger. No one tells you that sometimes you will get a bit of a clown car parade instead.
Someone suggested that once I'm done, I ought to write How To Deal With The Indebted Estate You Inherited When You're Fucking Broke And Everyone Else Has Fucked Off: The Authoritative Blog Post. I said that I doubt I have a comprehensive understanding of the issue. "You think someone does?" they countered. They work within public bureaucracy, so I'm inclined to believe they know what they're on about.
If I do write that blog post, it's gonna come with a soundtrack of a techno Can Can version of Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld, the musical staple of Very Stupid Drama of the Week Explained in a Tumblr Video, with the following caption: "for full immersive experience, imagine that the manic bass beat is a hammer swinging wildly in the immediate vicinity of your head. You're entirely fine because it hasn't hit you. Yet."
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Hello I have produced a LMK x TOH AU out of nowhere XD
Basically Mei's first time using the Samadhi Fire goes HORRIBLY wrong and rips a hole in reality the same time Luz's broken portal caved in, and the LMK characters got yeeted into their world.
MK gets to be a monkey demon, Mei gets dragon features, Red Son gets bull features, and everything on everyone's ends gets screwed up because nobody could've expected this.
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