#except that I was bipolar bc I figured that out myself. I had to

[venicebixch]

In-Between part 8 (final part)

angsty. enjoy!

My eyes flutter open to the light shining in through my window. I had about 3 seconds of peace before my mind went straight to Vinnie. I sit up, reaching for my phone.

No texts.

I sigh, getting a little more concerned. I anxiously check all my socials and see nothing would explain his tweet last night. I decide to text him again but don’t want to pry.

Y/n

good morning. are we still hanging out today?

I send the text and wait. 2 hours go by before I finally get a response.

Vinnie

i don’t think so. i had some shit come up. i’m sorry.

My chest burns reading his text. Why wouldn’t he respond to me last night? Even if something came up, why would be purposefully ignore me then cancel on me today with no other explanation except that?

Y/n

can you at least tell me if you’re okay?

Vinnie

i’m good

I get a little frustrated and my fingers start typing before I can stop them.

Y/n

why didn’t you respond last night? i was worried about you

Vinnie

i appreciate the concern but i just don’t wanna talk about it

Y/n

can you at least tell me what’s happening so i’m in the loop. did i do something?

Another hour goes by before he responds.

Vinnie

no you didn’t do anything. i honestly don’t want to right now. i’m trying to figure shit out

Y/n

what shit?

Vinnie

bruh drop it. please just stop, i’ll talk about it when i want to

“Why is he being a dick?” I say out loud to myself, shaking my head.

Y/n

why are you like this

I hesitate to send the message but my frustration gets the better of me.

Vinnie

like whatttt

Y/n

don’t act like you don’t know

Vinnie

i really dont

Y/n

you’re kinda being an asshole

Vinnie

lol. okay.

Y/n

you’re always so back and forth with me. yesterday you’re kissing me and having food fights and today you’re acting cold and distant and won’t even tell me what’s happening

Vinnie

idk. we already talked about this.

Y/n

what so i’m supposed to sit back and let you toy with my emotions and act bipolar toward me just bc you’re trying to “figure shit out”

Vinnie

you knew what this was when we started fucking around. don’t like it? don’t fuck with me. sorry.

“God, you’re a jerk Vinnie!” I yell at my phone as tears start to fill my eyes. I slam my phone down on the bed next to me and stand up, pacing back and forth again. I rub my hand across my head. “Why the fuck do I do this to myself? Why the fuck does he do this to me?”

—

“I don’t understand why he would act like that,” Emily says, taking a sip of her coffee.

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know either. It’s been a week since I’ve talked to him.”

“Have you reached out?” She asks.

“Yeah, three times. Nothing. I keep checking social media to see what the hell could be going on. And I asked Jett but he won’t talk to me, which is frustrating.”

“That’s just weird to me.”

“Right? Like what the hell is going on… And you know what? I hope the whole friend group doesn’t start acting weird toward me if stuff doesn’t work out with me and Vinnie. It’s not just him that I’m friends with, it’s everyone. But I know they’ll pick him over me,” I look down, fidgeting with the ring on my finger.

“If they do that, they’re not even worth tripping over,” she says.

“Yeah but besides you I literally have no other friends. And you’re moving away…” I say, my voice cracking at the last part of my sentence trying to keep myself from crying.

“You know I’ll always be around to talk to you, and I’ll visit you every chance I get,” she reaches her hand across the table, palm up.

I grab it and smile, nodding my head as tears overflow on to my cheek. I quickly wipe them away then go back to fidgeting with my ring. “I know. I’m just gonna miss you. I know it’s what’s best for you, though.”

“Maybe you should just go to his house and talk to him in person?”

I shake my head no. “I can’t do that, that’ll make me look crazy.”

“Y/n, you’re not crazy for expressing valid emotions. I think you’re still stuck in that mindset you had with Cory.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right. Cory is my ex and he was just awful, constantly gaslighting me and manipulating me. Always making me feel crazy. “I know I am. I still get so anxious whenever something goes wrong with a guy, which is ridiculous because it’s been over 2 years since I broke up with him.”

“That type of relationship takes a toll on you. Just… I don’t know. Try not to dwell on things too much, okay? Whatever happens, you’re going to be just fine,” she smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Em.”

—

It’s been a few days since my conversation with Emily. I’ve been avoiding too much social media because it’s not good for my mental health lately but I decided to take a few minutes before bed to scroll through tiktok to try and get my mind off of everything before I turn in for the night. I’ve felt a little better today but still feel like an anxious mess.

Suddenly a text pops across my screen making my heart skip a beat.

Emily

have you been on ig?

My heart starts racing.

Y/n

no why??

I immediately hop over and see nothing posted from Vinnie. Then I search up Kyla to see if it has to do with her.

I flick through her story until I reach the last picture. 12 hours ago. Her and Vinnie laying in bed together, lights off. Her head on his chest. He looks like he’s asleep.

I feel an overwhelming sense of anger, my adrenaline coursing through me like I took a shot of it straight to the heart. I start crying and sit up, staring at the picture in disbelief.

“Really?” I say out loud to myself. “REALLY? Fucking ridiculous. Fucking asshole. Ghost me for fucking DAYS then pop up with this?”

Emily

have you talked to vinnie?

I immediately call her, not wanting to text.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Emily I’m gonna lose my shit,” I say, standing up, pacing back and forth.

“Just try to calm down. He hasn’t said anything to you?”

“No! He hasn’t acknowledged me in 10 fucking days! Went from fucking me in the ass literally to fucking me in the ass metaphorically in less than 2 weeks with no explanation!”

She giggles on the other side of the phone. I said that being serious but can’t help but laugh with her briefly through my tears before I crouch on the ground with my hand over my face, letting the real hurt take over.

“I fucking hate myself, Em.”

“Please don’t say that. If he doesn’t see your worth, that’s his own fucking problem. You’re incredible and if he’s picking her stupid ass over you, he’s literally fucking stupid. I’m so sorry he’s done this.”

“I did this. It’s my fault for letting my guard down. He’s right, I knew what this was the whole time. Not his fault I fell in love with him.”

“No, he fucking knows how you feel about him and continued to play with your emotions to make his sorry ass feel better about getting cheated on.”

I take a moment to gather myself then stand back up, getting lightheaded for a second. I sit back down on the bed and sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Go to his house and punch him. Write him a ‘fuck you’ letter and post it on your insta story for the world to see. Fuck one of his friends.”

I start giggling. “You’re giving me too many good ideas,” I sniffle.

“Seriously. Go crazy, act like a bitch. You’ve held it together a hell of a lot better than I would have. I’d be putting sugar in the gas tank of his precious little car right now if it was me. If it’s over, it’s over. May as well end it with a bang. Don’t just lay down and take it.”

“I can’t,” I murmur, wiping the tears from my face.

“I know… listen, I fucking hate to do this but I’m at work right now and we’re busy so I have to go. I’ll talk to you later when I get off or first thing tomorrow morning. Please just try to keep your head up. I know it’s easier said than done but please. I love you so much. Keep me posted.”

“Okay, I understand. I love you too.”

I hang up and sit there for a minute thinking about what I should do. I decide to text him again, not expecting any response.

Y/n

i saw Kyla’s story. seriously?

To my surprise he texts back immediately.

Vinnie

what story?

I furrow my brows, confused. Surely he knows what the hell I’m talking about. Unless it’s an old picture? I feel a small glimmer of hope at that possibility but why would she post an old picture?

Y/n

the one where you’re sleeping together?

A few minutes go by before he responds again.

Vinnie

i didn’t know she posted that, i haven’t been online much the last few days.

“I didn’t know she posted that,” I say in a mocking tone.

Y/n

okay? i guess i just don’t understand what’s happening

Vinnie

i’ve been meaning to talk to you i just didn’t have time yet

My stomach turns again, afraid to ask what he wanted to talk about.

Y/n

about what

Vinnie

me and kyla are back together as of last night

i’m sorry

i really hope you understand

My jaw drops as I read his messages with numbness, trying to process what this means. For him. For me. I’ve spent time preparing myself for this possibility but a large part of me has been in denial up until this very second, never believing he would actually go back to her.

Not only have I lost the guy I love, I’ve lost one of my best friends. Someone I found sanctuary in. We can’t be in each other’s lives anymore if they’re dating after all we’ve done. Which also means I’ve likely lost my entire friend group. If I can’t be around him, I can’t be around them.

The numbness quickly shifts to nausea and panic. Tears start rolling down my cheeks in waves. He’s actually picking her over me.

The panic shifts to anger and I find myself fighting the urge to drive to his house and make a scene in front of everyone and tell him how stupid he is. Tell him much I loved him before and how much I hate him now. I want to sabotage their relationship and make it known to the world what he’s done to me and what she’s done to him. Neither of them deserve happiness, right?

“Fuuuuck,” I groan out through my tears. I swear to god I’d rather be shot in the fucking chest than deal with the emotional pain this has brought me.

I pick my phone up again and start to type out one last text to him.

Y/n

i fucking hate you

My finger lingers over the send button but I sigh and delete it, starting over.

Y/n

fuck you

I delete that too.

Y/n

cant wait to hear about your heart getting broken by the bitch for a second time and watch all your pitiful sad ass tiktoks and tweets that come with it you fucking loser

I delete it again and start laughing through my tears, feeling hysterical at this point.

Y/n

hope you get what you deserve ❤️

I finally send it, breathing out a sigh of relief before another wave of sadness washes over me as I see that he reads it. Images of our last kiss and our last hug flicker through my mind - already missing him and feeling consumed by my longing for him that goes so deep I can feel it in my bones. My heart feels like it’s ripping to shreds with every beat, sending me into a deeper mess of emotions.

The dots that show he’s typing pop up. I panic and immediately go and block his number before he can respond. Then I go and block him on everything else.

I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. If he wants to go back to the bitch after what she did, he deserves whatever hell she brings him in the future.

I hope she cheats again. I hope he lays in bed at night and cries so hard his head hurts and his throat feels like it’s on fire. I hope he feels empty, desperate, and scared. I hope he finds himself thinking of me, hating himself for his decision to choose her. I hope he feels used. I hope she makes him feel all the terrible things he’s made me feel. And I hope more than anything that he knows he fucking deserves every bit of it the next time he’s at his absolute lowest.

I toss my phone across the bed and turn over, curling into a ball knowing I won’t be leaving this spot for days, maybe weeks. I close my eyes and give in to the darkest part of my mind, finally sinking into the void I’ve been fighting so hard to stay out of. A place comparable to hell, where I’m alone and hate myself and hate the world. Where I feel nothing but anxiety, anger, and resentment for everyone and everything. I don’t want to live anymore.

#vincent hacker #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vincenthacker #vinnie fanfic #vinnie x reader #vinniehackerfanfic #vinniehackerimagines

[ghoulstars]

i Sure Would Like to not have to be literally relieved/excited when my mom goes to bed every single night because otherwise i feel constantly tense and at risk of something happening to make my living situation unsafe, again, even if we’ve had a good/normal day

shes back on her fucking bullshit today and she usually confronts me on things that have made her Mad(tm) that ive “done” but today she hasnt said jack shit to me. all i can figure is: shes upset that i didnt get up and help her stain the wood for the porch we’re building where our old shitty side deck was shes upset bc i didnt wash all the dishes ?????????? who fucking knows

heres the kicker though folks: i didnt wash all the dishes because for some reason, since replacing our water heater, when the water from the sink starts getting cold it doesnt gradually get cold, it literally goes from like scalding hot (even thru gloves) to hardly lukewarm and i was only washing dishes for about 20? 30? minutes last night before the water temp fucking plummeted so i couldnt finish. bonus is that there were literally only like 5-7 things left to wash and it was literally just 3 styrofoam cups, one pot and like...2 or 3 forks/spoons. absolutely incredible and worth spitefully giving your daughter the cold shoulder over, am i right folks

and me helping stain was only even a fucking a possibility because she gave me an open ended offer to help her last night and i gave an open ended response. she asked me if i wanted to try to go to bed early enough and she would call me in the morning and just see if i wanted/felt up to come out and help, and i said i would be willing to try and id do my best. so when my manic ass had a manic moment and i slept for 3 hrs from 6 am to 8 and was dying and couldnt pass back out for any reason of course i texted her and told her i couldnt fucking help lmao. my fucked sleep schedule is a result of my Crazy Quirky Wacky Bipolar 2 anyway and like she refuses to help me or sympathize with me abt my mental health so ??? guess ill die?????

i didnt get back to sleep around fucking like 12/1 pm and i noticed that she stopped fucking replying to my texts literally right after i said i couldnt help and then every time she walked past my room, where i was Clearly Awake And On My Phone With My Door Open, she flat out ignored me. wouldnt even spare me a side glance.

and when i woke up at 5 pm today, no matter how late i wake up my mom always comes and wakes me up no matter what, today she walked by my room twice EVEN WHEN IT WAS THAT LATE AND I WAS STILL IN BED without saying jack fucking shit to me, and only came in on her third time walking back by to her sitting room and just blankly went ‘youre not laying here in the dark’, turned on my light, then swiftly left

then before that she’d texted me, after telling me for weeks to just use our limited data even if it runs over bc our wifi cant handle my phone being connected along with all our other devices anymore, that im going to have to use my laptop now bc she isnt paying another 200$ phone bill this month. here’s kicker number 2: after literally outright giving me her food plans for tonight and tomorrow yesterday she also texts me that she didnt cook. just a flat “I didn’t cook”. im so fucking depressed all the time that i physically and mentally cannot handle getting up to find and cook myself my own like ACTUAL MEALS and making food that requires actual cooking is often times out of the fucking question, and shes been not cooking for SEVERAL nights here recently, sometimes days in a row, and with my depression being wholly unacknowledged by her, once again, guess ill fucking perish??? unless i can miraculously find the energy to make chicken fingers or ramen noodles im going to be doing what ive fucking done almost every goddamn night this past month she hasnt cooked which is live off of snack foods and ensure lmao. KICKER NUMBER 3: she promised me that either tonight or tomorrow, bc she has a Big Foobaw Game, she wouldnt cook and would instead get me my alltime favorite chinese food from my alltime favorite chinese restaurant that she knows i love a lot, and regardless of what night her game was, she didnt cook tonight and i LITERALLY heard her say less than an hr ago that she’d be cooking tacos (which she intended to originally cook tonight) tomorrow. that being said, her specifically saying she ‘didnt cook’ today when she promised to get takeout in general at some point this week makes me think tonight was just supposed to be tacos (esp if what i think i can remember serves). and now she hasnt cooked anything at all! and tomorrow its gonna be tacos! :) fucking knowing how she is and how she works and functions with her abusive behavior towards me i would not be surprised and am also partially convinced that for whatever reason she’s all DooDoo Angery at me that shes doing this on fucking purpose to deprive me of the treat she promised out of spite/as some kind of passive aggressive ‘punishment’ HAHAHAHA ECKS DEE SO FUNNY XDDD

the only other time shes acknowledged my fucking worthless existence(tm) today was to pull one of her Iconic “im only saying this really ridiculous shit that ive never said before and we’ve never talked about before, ever, just to take digs at my daughter bc she Displeased Me” moments, where she walked by, almost totally ignored me again but stopped like. like she was gonna just keep walking but caught herself and she ended up like...halfway obscured by my doorway anyway and quickly said to me “i need you to sweep.” and then she went to the bathroom and i hear “and take your (cat) poop out too. litterboxes get done every night.”

we have two litterboxes. never in the history of ever has she said anything to me about they get done Every Night >:( and that has never been an established rule, nor have we ever even spoken about me doing that. i do them every few nights, usually on different days, bc there’s Two Litterboxes. and surprise surprise my depression impedes my ability to keep up with them without her having to tell me to clean them most of the time which pisses her off, except i literally did them 1-3 nights ago and theres no way that they both need cleaning again already and now shes suddenly on her shit like. they get done. every night. in that fucking vaguely militant voice she gets when she’s mad like that and is fucking with me on purpose

but fucking like even regardless of all this other shit, point blank, she is the one who has not expressed any of her annoyances with me today to make her act like this. how can i fucking communicate about the issue when she doesnt TELL ME WHAT HER ISSUE IS and instead opts to mentally and emotionally screw with me for her own satisfaction--and even then!!! she has no right to be this mad with me over not helping with the porch bc SHE left it OPEN ENDED and NONCOMMITTAL, SHE could have easily asked me why there were dishes left (though bc i have to do them so late at night/early in the morning bc im fucking depressed shed prolly just blame me FOR doing them at that time bc if i do them TOO LATE at night then the WATER TEMPERATURE GOES DOWN because its COLD AT NIGHT or something like that) but she didnt and now like everything else, fresh off my period, still manic, always rapid cycling, just got off the manic depression train slightly after being on it for two days and then before that it was Severely Uncomfortable Euphoria, feeling just so fucking wrong in my own skin and feeling too many emotions that are too strong that i dont want, so on and so forth, im the one whos suffering because of her unresolved neuroses and narcissism

and like....to be honest, real shit? with how fucking unpredictable and fucky she’s become since our Big Fight i also would not be surprised and sort of have half a mind to think she’s just mad for literally no reason (related to me or otherwise) and is doing this just because lol

#personal #dont reblog #long post #abuse tw #parental abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #mental abuse tw

[friedpotat0]

its funny because the people that should care about you dont, and the people that shouldnt be bothered to care about you just waste their time over you. 

my parents dont know that i cry myself to sleep nearly every night, that i cry on the ride home, or that i wrote a suicide note and plan with full intention to kill myself before 2:30 on tuesday 10/29, they have no idea i think about my own death often or that i plan on killing myself before i turn 30, or how my body shakes every second of the day because everything is distracting or making me immensely nervous. they dont know im frustrated or irritated or that every little thing annoys the fuck out of me or how my paranoia is so bad i always perpetually feel like the entire world is against me, they dont know ive been seeing the counselor since high school and that the psychiatrist bluntly told me i have severe depression with bipolar 2 and prescribed me lamitrogine even though i really disagree with the diagnosis and wished they listened to my concerns about anxiety instead. 

people dont know these things bc i dont tell them and i dont want anyone to worry about me. im pretty good at hiding things bc ive been dealing with bad thoughts my whole life. but relentlessly i choose to believe in optimism because i believe in Allah and he is slowly guiding me through this hellscape. i hate crying in front of people, and i especially dont like have any attention on me ever (unless im playing the guitar, then shut up). i dont like being selfish and self absorbed. and i hate dwelling on the past.

its funny when ur own family has absolutely no idea whats going on because when you did tell them, when u were 14, about the suicidal thoughts and anxiety, they yelled at you and called u attention seeking, so u never told them about the weight loss or the scars or the suicide attempts. its so funny that the people that should care about you dont, and really just prize you as a trophy rather than a human being with thoughts and feelings. 

instead the counselor, my research supervisor, hell my fucking advisor has more concern over me than my own family and (certain) close “friends” ever will have in their lives. it means a lot to me that im finally getting some love and attention that ive always needed, but never realized it.

its funny how things get so distorted in your mind. you accomplish so much yet you feel like you did so little. i am so fatigued all the time, i already feel old, my skin is so dry and my body is so frail, my back aches endlessly, my lips are chapped and falling off, your feet always hurt, your hands are always cold, my mind is so worn. my nails are so brittle at this point and breaking at the edges. my skin is so fucked up id like to rip it off at this point. 

its so weird to me i wrote a whole suicide plan and suicide note and released it with every intention that i will kill myself before the end of the week but yet i am still here, very much alive and (arguably) healthy. with full intention to finish this semester. why? what happened there? and yet i still find myself looking back at that plan constantly with tears running down my face. i have a lot of tears. 

i wanted to kill myself since i was very very young. i remember when my mom would scream at me that she wishes i was dead and that i was her burden, nearly every day, and i would go to sleep crying praying to god he would kill me in my sleep. i would suffocate myself when i was 6 just to try to end it all. i barely had any friends growing up and if i did i saw them briefly in school or once every three months at some gathering. rarely did i leave the house or ever get involved in the community, except for the sports my dad would force me into. i had little social interaction, and not many adults in my life to look up to other than my mom. i never felt like her daughter, i felt like i was some sister of hers. i never had a loving maternal figure in my life, save for a few teachers i have had, god bless them. now she only loves me because i can do things for her. when she hit me she didnt love me. when she screamed at me every day she didnt love me. when she told me to kill myself she didnt do that out of love. she doeesnt remember any of these things and claimed i made it up. i feel like im in hell. she had a hard life, to be fair...but i would raise my daughter differently. i would prefer to stay away from the word “burden” when referring to my children. 

i have a good life and ill never dispute that ever. i was born with a lot of privilege. so why am i like this? who knows. you feel like your whole life was stolen from you and that you missed so many oppurtunities that you could have taken but every bone in your body screamed “no”. its bittersweet knowing that i am finally getting help but where was this help 6 years ago? how much more could i have accomplished if i had people in my life supporting me? and that i only receive this support recently? i only had two adult figures in my life and they were both my parents, my mom being very emotianally abusive and self centered with the maturity of a 6 year old, and my distant father who barely made any effort to listen to me, both who denies any sign of mental illness or health defects of any sort when the signs were clear. 

why are my parents so concerned about my marriage when they should really be concerned about me?

I feel so emotionally stunted, as if i am still 15 years old, becasuse i am finally allowed to leave my damn house. what a life i have lived, so uneventful. never allowed to leave or wear what you want, say what you want, do what you want, because you are a muslim girl. fun is banned in islam, and in my family, apparently. no sense of humor, style, color, everything is so bland and monotonous it makes you want to scream. no passion, no motivation, just the same robotic shit for 20 years. why would i want to live a life like this i ask myself? for the rest of my fucking life? id rather die. at least in hell i can do what i want.

i hate being in my skin. sometimes i hate being in my body too. i am forced to wear mutliple layers of thick makeup every single fucking day for 12-16 hours straight because my skin is that fucking terrible and ugly. i cant imagine being naturally beatiful and having clear skin and then boasting about it, on top of that. its so infuriating. i am so ugly. no one can convince me otherwise. i feel so trapped so trapped no one even knows. no one will ever really understand. i dont expect them to. i want to do so much but i can only do so little. im too frail and weak to do anything. im always so tired, and sad, to make things worse. i wish i had so much potential but i dont. im dead already on the inside, like a rotted tree. what hope is there left.

sometimes i want to leave my hometown without telling anyone and never come back. that would be fun. then i can finally have the freedom i want and the ability to actually explore my life like i should. then i can finally choose my own path to the future. but i am confined in my own mind, in my own house, in my own family, in my own city. fuck this.

now i look ahead to a hopefully brighter future. progress and healing is very slow and gradual. the only growth i should focus on is myself. for the sake of myself. and for the sake of God. i will make it i have to keep saying it, speak it into existence, because if i dont, ill wither away.

#personal #definitely deleting this later #please dont message me or contact me im fine #i just needed to rant #people dont rlly know the tea #im not shading anyone just upset that things r this way

[bootisimo]

ok so i dont care if im spamming my personal shit bc this is fucking tumblr & i need to just talk abt things

so im going to talk abt my best friend audrey. i havent had a best friend since around 7th grade (I’m a graduating senior this year) & my overall friend group has been really unstable & changes a lot, so I didn’t realize it at the time, but I haven’t made any deep connections in high school and it’s kinda sucked. Pair that up with me being super insecure because everybody talked about me behind my back in middle school and literally nobody outside of my group of 5 friends could stand to be near me (which I only learned around 2 months ago & it’s fucked me up so much, especiallyl because i was so oblivious & for all i know the same thing could still be happening), so I’ve felt very isolated and alone without realizing it for basically all of my scary developmental years. & then this new girl comes to school, and I meet her a the beginning of senior year! & she’s so wonderful and we click so well and after knowing each other for barely any time i felt so close to her and I was essentially drunk off of finally being close to someone again and she was all i ever thought abt bc i loved spending time with her so much! ((that sounds weird and obsessive but i promise im exaggerating i just kinda accidentally started idolizing her and absorbing her mannerisms bc thats what i always do)) & following my stupid fucked up pattern for people im clsoe to, i was all over her for a few months then i started doing that isolating thing and i convinced myself that her & the rest of my friends barely tolerate me (it didn’t help that this is senior year & shit actually did happen w two of my other close friends so my friend group is shrinking rapidlyl and i dont want to put effort into roping it back together), so I became really unhappy without realizing it bc i repress everything and i literally have so much trouble processing and actually feeling what’s going on around me . thats where my problems with derealization come from, because it crosses the line into literally not being able to say if im awake or in a dream, or if i exist or not, so how the fuck would i be able to know if i was happy or unhappy? im realizing tonight that ive been actually, truly depressed for an indeterminant amount of time, and that really scares me with the whole bipolar issue bc ive figured out that i cant live life without control. i need independence and control over my entire sense of self or i can’t cope, and its super unhealthy but its the only way i know how. and if im bipolar like im starting to believe i might be and like my therapist thinks is a definite possibility, then kind of by definition that means that i don’t have control, over my actions or my moods or my life, especially if it’s bad enought that i need medication. and judging by just how bad things have been recently, right when i start being able to feel my emotions without automatically shutting them down (so I’m feeling them to the full extent that i shielded myself from, in other words), i don’t think i can succeed, or even survive, on my own if this is what my daily life becomes. I’m losing my control right before I’m really going to need it, right before i turn 18 and go to college and actually need to take care of myself, and I’m so anxious about it that I constantly feel like I’m going to vomit, and like there’s a dumbbell sitting both on my chest and at the bottom of my stomach. when I repressed everything, i was always relaxed. i literally could not make myself stress or feel bad about anything, which is super unhealthy, but now it’s like i can’t make myself not be stressed, and i can’t reverse it!! I’ll try to feel like I used to because not feeling is so so so much easier than feeling, but it’s like I’ve forgotten how!! 

anyway part of the reason my relationship with audrey is so good and so bad is bc it’s super hard for me to actually talk to her, because I always struggle with guilt because of how easy my life is compared to my friends. feeling like i have things better than anyone makes me feel so guilty that i want to die, which is probably a part of the depressive episodes, so I’ll go through periods where I’ll talked to audrey but i literally wont’ say anything to her bc i feel so guilty about how much she has to deal with, and then it’s like we aren’t even friends anymore and its 100% my fault because I consciously pull away and just think about dying for a week or two and convince myself that i dont need or deserve any friends or anyone to talk about the issues im having with. when i actually do share things with audrey, i lover her even more, because she never makes me feel guilty for having things she doesnt, and she always reminds me to that im trying to be conscious of the differences in our lives, and she always makes me feel so good about myself because that’s the kind of person she is. she’s been through so much more than most people, and I don’t even know a lot of the details about her life. its amazing though not just because she went through it--it always pisses me off as a trans person when people tell me i’m “brave” just for living and transitioning, and i know she would feel the same if i thought she was amazing just bc she’s survived so much. but she’s amazing for how she deals with it, mostly. you can tell she has a lot of problems coping but she still always makes an effort to make people feel included, and to better herself, and to be fucking kind. I’m always so amazed by how kind she is and how little she deserves all the shit that life throws at her, and I dont say that to her bc it’s always uncomfortable when people tell you that, but I’m really starstruck by her. i very often just start thinking about what a genuinely caring, selfless person she is--not like me, who does everything because of the reaction that I anticipate from other people. when she’s kind, you can just tell that it’s because she wants to be kind and doesnt care about the consequences. she is a good person far deeper down than I am and its amazing to see that at work. I’ve actually been standing up for my beliefs and saying something when I think someone’s in the wrong just because I’ve been around her and I’ve seen her do that 

but the worst thing is that we met so close to the end of graduation. we just found out we’re all staying in the area next year but with my habit of suddenly dropping people for no reason, I can’t guarantee we’ll stay close, and that makes me so so sad because I genuinely think the more time I spend with audrey, the better a person I become. it’s hard to balance because I also make all my bad decisions with audrey because we fuel each other because w’ere so similar, so that makes it hard to. (haha we’re both geminis after all, and i dont believe in astrology but the idea that two geminis always have short, intense bursts of relationships, so they’re hard to make last, seems super accurate for us, and I’m afraid that tha’ts whats going to happen) 

anyway I’m just typing a lot because dear audrey gave me an adderall to take so i could last the night & not die, and it’s more than I normally take, so my focus on this post is so intense, and adderall makes you rambly anyway. it’s good to take a lot every once and a while though because just thinking things through in this focused, controlled but optimistic and basically unbiased outlook that adderall gives you can be super helpful--typing this out has actually been pretty similar to my therapy sessions, except nobody has to ask me questions and prod at what I say to interpret my thoughts. damn i hope i can get a prescription because i feel like this is exactly how people who can actually ge their work done and not drift off constantly feel like, and I feel like now that I know how adderall feels and how homework is actually feasible when I take even a small dose, like half of a 30mg pill, I can’t expect myself to keep fumbling through my academic life once it costs 20k per year, and when I’m not on adderall, I’m always, always fumbling and confused, no matter what I’m doing. I feel like I’m just realizing how much I need it, and the people around me aren’t as surprised because they’ve always seen it, because it’s literally always been there, but they just assumed I was disorganized and spacey, and when I say “I think I have ADHD,” theyre’re jsut like “oh, I never thought of that but now that you’ve said it I absolutely believe that, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” It’s inhibited me enough in my life, especially in school, that in my freshman year all of my teachers called my parents in and told them to test me & my sister for ADHD, and the only reason it never happened is because there was a miscommunication and my mom thought the school had screend us for free, when me & emma have never ever seen a doctor about it 

things are jsut bad rn bc it’s like i stand on both edges of a really small planet. on one side is the adhd stuff, and the realization that if I get treatment, life could be a lot more possible for me than I ever knew it was possible to me. on the other side is the emotions that I’m not able to repress anymore (maybe it’s the bipolar vs the adhd, maybe not--again, not diagnosed, and definitely not self diagnosing). these emotins that I’m actually starting to be able to process are a lot worse than I ever realized they were, and it’s promising the opposite of the adhd side--that things could get much worse than I ever knew they could get, and that they’re already headed that way. 

sorry for making you all scroll past this thing, but it’s been really helpfulto be able to sort my thoughts out like this. I definitely feel like i just prepared myself to make progress in my therapy session on friday, at the very least. maybe things can actually be ok after all

#personal #really fucking personal #also very voluminous personal jfc #i just spent 40min typing this instead of doing math homework #nice

[skin-n-drugs]

cutting off tim

so today i cut off my dad completely. i wrote him a letter, paid him the money i owe, got my stuff & left. i told him how it was & said goodbye. he went off at my sister saying she knew all along that i was coming & she was lying. i hate how he takes everything out on everyone except who’s actually at fault. HIMSELF!!! he’s the asshole, the shit head, the manipulator, liar, thief, fucking disappointment of a father. i can’t stand this shit. i was so adamant & certain about leaving him but today when i actually hand wrote the letter & grabbed all of my things in a rush it fully hit. it hit me like a ton of bricks. i instantly got tired, numb, dead inside, insecure & second guessing everything. i j don’t care. i don’t give a fuck. why should i?? my mom asked how he was, “i’m great thanks” literally shows why i cut him off. HE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT ME!!!! he never has, never does, never will. he puts everyone around him through pain & suffering so he doesn’t feel so alone & thats his problem not mine anymore. i don’t want this for myself. he’s never going to change, he’s had so many chances to change, to try, to slightly improve, yet nothing. NOTHING.

on another note...my ed’s gone away again. j like that ofc. i mean not really it’s still there j not as bad. my main thing w it is when i’m feeling insecure & today was definitely one of those days so i only ate a pb&j & now i’m drinking gin. my bf still thinks about it & commends me for eating, comments on how much i eat & it bothers me bc it brings it back up but he’s so much skinnier than me. it’s so back & forth i hate it. i want to talk to him about it, tell him i’m better, that it’s only a temporary thing, but what happens when it comes back? he’s gonna think i was lying then or he’s gonna think i’m lying now or in the future. i hate how this shit is so bipolar. it’s not like depression where something happens & it’s obvious you’re sad, it’s something inside you that no one else can see that j tells you STOP! STAY AWAY FROM FOOD!!!! SKINNNYYYYY!!!! but other days that’s not even a thought. i’ve been eating 2-3 meals a day & sometimes way more than i should be but still maintaining a decent figure. i started going to the gym as well which makes me feel better about what i eat. i ran 2 miles today which i haven’t done in idek how long so that was such an accomplishment but ik to some other people it’s not that big of a deal so i don’t wanna be egotistical about it but to me it’s fucking amazing. i’ve been running, biking, abs, legs, arms, all of it. i feel so much healthier when i go which i love but i honestly don’t have the time or energy for it every day. my goal is to go at least 3 times a week for 45 min - an hour depending on what i’m doing. w school & work i’m exhausted & honestly w this whole shit w my family & feeling insecure & my bf & everything else in my head it’s all too much. i’m getting better at all that i’ve takes on but it’s still so much & im for some reason trying to add more. i’m trying to go to the gym more, spring classes are starting soon & im trying to be a full time student so i can transfer sooner rather than later. honestly maybe even go to where ever my bfs going but it’s so much. idk why i do this to myself. low key i think it���s a secret way of self harm, i can feel myself deceasing inside, crying for help but at the same time i’m so proud of where i am & how far i’ve come & where i’m going. this is the most $$ ive made, the most successful & most impressed & proud of myself as i’ve ever been other than in the woods when i climbed a mountain. this shit takes me back to the woods & ive rlly been thinking ab going back, to help other kids like me, help other ppl feel the way i felt when i got to the top, when i get my paycheck. tbh tho work has been kinda shit recently. i’ve had to go through “retraining” bc of the amount of complaints i’ve gotten. shits been whack. they weren’t even complaints which pisses me off

[billypilgrimisunstuck-blog]

I should be completely disconnected from him now…

So here we go. From this point on, this will be my journal. You don’t know who I am if you stumble upon this & that is better for me.

I don’t like writing in note books bc someone can stumble over that & honestly at least this is what I’ve chosen to share… That’s important to me, having a choice in what I am & am not open about.

My sister told me everyone copes differently, & this is just my way.

I was going to go on a tech purge, but I feel so isolated doing that… I don’t like being disconnected from the outside world. It’s not good for people like me. I’m alone in real life right now bc my sister is on vacation w/ her fiance & my little brother.

So disconnecting completely from the outside world is a bad idea, I get extremely paranoid. For example last night I slept with a knife beside the couch, because it was my first night sleeping completely by myself in a long time.

I’m always paranoid… That’s never going to go away. Ever since I was little I used to run & hide when I heard cars coming because I was afraid someone was coming to get me…

I’m being open about this now because honestly I’ve gotten a little numb to it. Sometimes I get scared, but today, I figure if someone is watching what does it really matter. Because at this point they’ve probably seen the worst of me.

So let’s be open. I’m crazy. I’m schizoaffective w/ Bipolar I officially diagnosed twice. I do hear voices, that wasn’t a lie. I do see things sometimes. That also wasn’t a lie. I am paranoid. I sometimes can’t speak right… & My brain does get slower. Perhaps not as bad as I make it out to be… But I feel like sometimes if I don’t exaggerate no one will believe how serious my condition is.

I pass out sometimes… Not all the time. I think it’s bc of anxiety.

I get really bad panic attacks & I do dissociate. Perhaps it’s not as bad as I made it out to be too…

The panic attacks are though. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe & my chest starts to hurt really badly. My right hand shakes violently… My left not as much.

I was molested by a female cousin at 7. I was raped my first time at 16. I moved out of my mom’s at 17 bc she wanted to kick out a girl who was pregnant. Turns out the girl wasn’t pregnant. But it still didn’t make it ok.

I moved in with the girl & met a guy… A real fucking asshole. I fell head over heels for him. One of his crazy ex girl friends pulled a butcher knife on me & waved it in my face bc my friend slept with her current boyfriend & the girl w/ the knife was pregnant with his baby. She also kicked the shit out of my poor cat. As did the man I was with, & then he took the cat & dropped it in the middle of nowhere.

I did get addicted to coke bc of him or perhaps bc I was stupid. I detoxed alone at my mother’s & was somehow able to hide it from her… Shakes, sweats, hallucinating bc of my schizophrenia, vomiting, it fucking sucked. She never noticed. Probably bc she was too busy trying to fuck everything that moved & was an alcoholic.

He would fuck me so hard I would bleed… So I was told I might not be able to have children… I don’t know if that’s true, but Im not mature enough to have kids right now anyways.

I’m still too selfish.

I moved to St. Augustine after that. Met a girl with a boyfriend… I liked her a lot. Him not so much. We fooled around a bit before he walked in. He wanted to join in & I wasn’t in to it. I don’t feel comfortable w/ 3 somes.

I left & went home. I felt like shit bc I helped her cheat. She moved away.

Then I met my current husband soon to be ex. He seemed nice. He wasn’t. He did rape me. It was after a party. He got too drunk. He also treated me like his fucking kid. He controlled everything. & Although he didn’t beat me everyday there was physical abuse & verbal.

Everything I did he criticized.

& So I went back to thinking someone who didn’t know I exist might love me… Might actually care…

But I’m crazy, remember. So I thought I had a chance…

This person is amazing… Yeah they were human. Yeah they fucked up too… But to me they were special. Smart, funny, kind, no nonsense… But mostly they were honest.

They spoke their mind & didn’t hide who they were. I crave that I guess.

I mean yes they are attractive… But it’s not as important. I’ve dated guys covered in acne, large men, too thin guys, beautiful but insane girls, guys covered in hair…

Looks aren’t important… Not as much as personality.

& The last time I fell, I was tricked… Someone on a parody account on Twitter fucked with my head badly… & I fell for it. I thought they were him…

Same thing happened this time on Reddit…

I think every mysterious person is him… Except this time I invited him…

It was stupid of me. Bc I know I’m not his type. I’m not super attractive. I’m not ugly, but I’m no super model either.

I just want someone who values me for who I am…

Maybe one day.

But for now I’m trying to be better… Trying to learn not to be selfish & to be more open, honest, & less aggressive. I don’t want to change who I am… But I don’t want to be a monster either. I’m tired of being Frankenstein’s Creature.

Killing everything I misunderstand.

It’s really hard. Old memories keep coming back. Awful shit I’ve been through. Awful shit done to me or that I’ve done to others…

& The voices won’t fucking stop about it… Just always tearing me down, making me feel awful.

Perhaps that’s why I was too scared to talk to him… Bc They made me feel like shit.

& Idk what that dream was about honestly… I always assume everything.

But I’m still here… Still trying.

& I didn’t try to kill myself bc of him… He had nothing to do with it… I don’t think he was really ever paying attention. & I’m not mad at him for that.

I just felt trapped. My family & I weren’t talking bc I fucked everything up with them, my mom was not a good place for me to go. I felt like a burden to everyone else…

So I tried… I tried twice but the blade was too dull… I don’t even get to have a cool survival scar bc that’s how fucking dull the exact knife was…

Then I had to beg to go to inpatient bc my soon ex said we couldn’t afford it…

Money was always more important to him. That & his fucking racist friend.

I understand, it was his only friend, but the guys constantly talked shit about everything. Mental illness, black people, it was too much…

I couldn’t sit there one more day & listen to my husband agree & then act differently when he left…

& I didn’t feel safe, so it spiked my paranoia bad.

I don’t remember everything right now. One of my symptoms is that my memory is shot… But if I think of anything I’ll add it later.

I don’t know if anyone is reading this… Right now I don’t care… I just needed to get it out without being sexualized…

I tried opening up to someone & they tried fucking with my head too…

I tried to be nice to them, I gave them my number bc they felt down & needed someone to talk to. I sent them funny videos to try to cheer them up. I gave them a link to my Instagram bc they said people smiling made them happy…

Then they disappeared… Bc what they wanted was probably masturbation material…

I’m so tired of people doing this to me… Tired of being sexualized & treated like a toy… Like property.

I just want love… Just once. Real love. Not lies or abuse or sodomy.

I want someone to grow old with. To sing with. To share books & art with… To love & be loved as we are…

But I guess I have a long way to go before then.

If it ever happens.

[weareyourfoxes]

going into therapy, how do I know what answers will get me help.

aah nonnie, I’ve been thinking about how to answer this since I got this (great distraction from my super boring work btw thanks). Truth be told when I wrote about my experience with that to Nate (@isakiyakis) I was very careful in my wording, because of this exact question.

I’m afraid I can’t tell you how to give the “right” answers during the intake process for therapy. This is because there are so many things those tests test on and it’s different for everyone everywhere (+ there’s also the thing where these tests are often constructed in a way that makes it pretty much impossible to “cheat” on them anyway).

I can however tell you about my own experience. When I went through the process I had already done quite some soul searching and research, and because of that I had a pretty clear idea of what I would be diagnosed with when it came to that. Because of that I kind of also knew what kind of questions to expect in the test and what my answers needed to be for different things. Please note that it’s apparently quite unusual for someone with the symptoms I have/had (mood issues, trauma, anxiety, depression, dissociation and hallucinations) to be as aware of it all as much as I am. My therapists were all impressed and surprised by that so I don’t think it happens often.

My tips for you if you want to be taken seriously when you go into therapy/start the process:

- Write shit down. I had a notebook full of little observations about myself and my history (which is a pretty fucked up mess tbh) that I could turn in when I had my intake conversation. Having a notebook like that made it easier for me to communicate what was going on with me and why I needed help.  - Do objective research. This is not for everyone and the key here is to be objective otherwise you get med student syndrome (you start thinking you have all the things you’re reading about). If you know you have that its better to not do the research. That’s why I recommend you observe yourself first. Take a week and observe your symptoms objectively by taking a step back. What behavior are you showing? How do others react to it? How do you feel? When do you feel what? What could have caused you to behave or feel in such a way? I’m not going to lie. this is hard af and you need to know yourself or at least be willing to look deep inside no matter how scary that is. This is key if you want to get help/change to become better.  

- You need to be your own advocate. This one is very important, too, and especially for minors might be the hardest one. If you know you need help you need to come up for yourself even if people (your parents, educators or even the people you’re asking support of) say no. This includes your doc just prescribing you pills instead of getting you into therapy. In the end you are the person who knows you the best and if you think you need help to figure shit out you need to push for it. If you show you are ready to get help and you’re ready to put in the effort you will get it.

- Open up about what you’re going through to people both before and during therapy. Before you get therapy try talking about it with people you know (even if its on tumblr. Feel free to send me any message you want (that goes for everyone reading this)). This is scary as fuck, especially if you’re afraid of bad reactions and I really, really get that but more people than you know struggle with anxiety and depression so you might be surprised. During therapy it’s even more important to open up. You need to talk in order to work through your issues (even though it has been proven by research that even the act of going to therapy and sitting there helps!). Be ready to dig in deep and don’t be afraid to cry or be upset. (pro tip: get a notepad if you’re a messy blubbering crying human like me so you can write to communicate). They won’t tell anyone anything (except when there is a real danger of you hurting yourself or someone else, but that’s because they’re required to do so by law in many countries) unless you give them permission.

- Know you’re not alone (ehehehehe sorry I couldn’t resist because I’m skam trash) BUT SERIOUSLY. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I’m going to go in a different direction than skam with this though, bc even though everyone experiences mental health shit differently on an individual basis there is a basic set of symptoms everyone with a specific thing has. For people who are depressed its not wanting to get out of bed, for people with anxiety its panic attacks, for borderliners its screwing yourself over and over again, for people with bipolar its the (hypo)manic & depressive episodes, for people with schizophrenia its shitty hallucinations, etc. Whatever you have there are others going through the same shit as you feeling just as bad/embarrassed/scared about it as you. Tumblr is literally full of these people so if you need to talk to someone who just gets it all you need to do is go through the respective mental health issue tags.

- REMEMBER: Just because someone might have it worse than you doesn’t mean you don’t deserve help. I’m adding this because it’s the biggest reason why people skip out on therapy even though they really need it. You deserve to get help just as much as anyone else. You deserve to feel better just as much as anyone else. How you feel matters and is important and if you feel like shit you need to do something about it to make yourself feel better.

- REMEMBER 2: Going to therapy/getting help doesn’t mean you’re crazy. Something is just working a little differently in that beautiful mind of yours and by going to therapy you take the first steps to make it work better so you can have a better quality of life (because that’s what therapy is about: getting you a better quality of life so you enjoy living it more).  

If you ever ever ever need anyone to talk to on or off anon feel free to message me!

#no idea if tags actually work on questions butttt #mental health #this is long as fuck