#i missed a day with my friends bc I felt shitty and depressed and too embarrassed to talk about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livingasaghost · 8 months

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september was not great folks, but we're trying <3

in the saddest realization of the season i discovered that my favorite part of the day is my 40m drive to work because it's chilly and i can see a lot of trees and the morning light and i also am in the perfect headspace to listen to Good Music and it's like when i used to make my morning playlists for opening the coffeeshop except soooo much more enjoyable

been listening to lots of holly humberstone and NF's new album and justin vernon stuff (bon iver, BRM, etc) and unfortunately gracie abrams - there's just something about all these artists being like "I AM THE PROBLEM ITS ME IM SORRY" that just speaks to me! that's not concerning at all!

laura and i talked for like two hours last night and it was like old times and god i really do miss when we'd just ride the same bus home and i could walk to her house ):

i've been trying to make taylor's chai cookies for like a week and i realized i absolutely have time to make them today so i'm trying to buck up the energy to do that in the next two hours before i have to be a person and go to a photoshoot

"good day" by olivia barton

i'm trying to get back into crying in h mart because mom finished reading it and we're supposedly buddy reading it so we can discuss it but i haven't felt like reading all month because i've been depressed...but like damn cancer sucks guys

in other news, i think because i've had such a shitty brain month this september i've almost pushed myself so far that halloween season sounds really fun!!! i'm trying to work through my halloween hate bc i think it's kind of silly and all my friends love halloween so i should love it too! and like i wanna watch spooky movies and be chilly and have FUN! god!

i kinda forgot a vital piece of jennalore which is that when i was a kid my mom's college roommate used to send us frosted sugar cookies shaped like bats every halloween and it was actually kinda the best thing ever? so i'm trying to channel that energy this season

work is batshit insane and i'm so exhausted by it i literally slept for 11hrs on like wednesday night bc i was so tired but also......when we're busy i always feel like i'm actually Doing Something and my bosses are so happy with the work i do so like.....it's good even though it's bad!

therapy has actually been really really good? like it Sucks bc it's therapy and i hate talking about my feelings but my therapist is the sweetest NB person ever and they're always just like "uhhh that's emotional abuse my dude!" and i'm so fucking excited bc at the end of october they're gonna have saturday openings which means i can finally go talk to them in person and not on my lunch break in our tiny break room!!!! at this point i have to pretend like my coworker can't hear everything i say during therapy otherwise i'd go insane so i always leave my sessions being like ......did max hear that i'm aroace and i have depression and i might be neurodivergent??? idk!!!

which speaking of, even though max and i definitely aren't like friends by any sense of the word....we are also just like having a time together! it's wild i see him most out of all the people i know but i think we're both going a little insane from the workload and being Depressed so we just spend all day being kinda wacky and for whatever reason i've reached a point where i stopped having a filter with him so i just start talking about the most random shit and he's cool with it lol

i think i might maybe be a little lonely! idk! i've been struggling to figure out what i need or who to talk to and i generally just want to talk to like two or three of my friends or my gc and everyone's just busy ): but then when i have the chance to talk to anyone and i Sit Down to try to interact bc i know some people are probably around i just get a little overwhelmed idk make it make sense!!!

and i realized i don't have a lot of IRL friends anymore bc a lot of the ones i had from the coffeeshop are Not My Friend and the ones i met on instagram are also Not My Friend and the ones i used to live with are Not My Friend and so my list of people to hang with is teeny tiny and idek what i need or want anymore so it's just my brain screaming .

the most frustrating thing rn is that i know i'm in a bad mental place however i cannot distinguish what i need! but when someone asks me what i need i get this intense panic/dread and i spiral real bad and if anyone tries to be kind to me it makes me feel worse and so it's like....i'm stuck in this stand still where i can't get what i need but i don't know what i need so i just eat cereal, listen to music, and go to bed early!!!

i don't wanna watch anything, i still haven't finished this season of only murders, i need a DVD player bc i want to watch the director's commentary of hill house, there's a bunch of shows and movies coming out soon that i feel overwhelmed by at the moment and it's just like !!! this is all so unfair

and i need to make all these appointments like getting my oil changed and going to the doctor for my annual but i cannot bring myself to do those things but also like should i ask my doctor about medication for depression??? surely it isn't that serious but like maybe it is idk!!!!

the depression isn't as bad as it's been in the past (i think?) like i felt a lot more hopeless in 2017 and i think a lot of that is because i do have a support system and a therapist and a good paying job and things to look forward to but like i'm very aware that many days i do just feel that feeling of "everything is meaningless and nothing will bring me joy ever again" so it's like !!! idk!!!! maybe i'm gaslighting myself into thinking i'm not that bad when in actuality i am!!!

i've just been stuck in that space of middle limbo with all my "diagnoses" that i cannot rationally understand if i'm allowing myself to see myself the way i am? like i always felt like i wasn't depressed enough to be Depressed bc i'm not suicidal but like ??? that's silly !!! maybe i am Depressed!!!!! but i don't even know how to go about getting meds and what they would do and it's almost more overwhelming to think about that than to just be depressed ): bc i still am convinced a lot of it comes down to the heat and the lingering effects of summer

but now i'm thinking about 2021 when it was the bad times and i stopped working on creative stuff or literally any year from 2017-2020 when i just spent the early fall Not Creating and having a crisis that i'd never create again and it's like.............is that bc i'm always depressed around this time? it's comforting bc i know life is seasons and i will come back around to making things and doing my silly projects but it's just sort of making me wonder how it would be different if i tried to find a way to get meds ....like would that Fix Me....would that Solve the Problem....what if it doesn't! what if i'm not depressed enough for that!

(this is all just thoughts, i'm fine, etc, just haven't let myself fully think about the depression this month bc i don't think there's a solution rn i'm just trying to get through it)

anyway, "good day" by olivia barton

#personal #it really is not that bad!!!#and yet...the horrors

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khodorkovskaya · 2 years

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05.09.22

as ive mentioned many times, every time i hang out with my friends i have a mini existential crisis. idk i feel like im either autistic, or immature, or pretentious, or too scared to face the real world. bc i don’t understand how people live their lives the way the do and how im supposed to function.

it hit me when i was with my two best friends yesterday and okay, best friend X lives and works in london, she has an office job. and it sounds like the most depressing thing in the world to me. bc she’s there from 9 to 5 (oftentimes more bc they never meet their deadlines), she doesn’t get payed a lot (which is fine bc her parents pay for rent so she’s not struggling or anything) and she says that every night she smokes/drinks with her boyfriend. the job itself sounds like hell, london is a shitty place to live, etc. etc. and yet she’s convinced that it’s the best place to be and that it’s fine.

and i don’t get it bc most of my former classmates moved to london. and now they have shitty jobs where all they do is write emails all day. and they’re all on drugs, no exception. and what’s the point of living like this? it’s obviously so unbearable since they all engage in some kind of unhealthy mechanisms (drinking wine and smoking weed every day, drugs on the weekends,...). and yet it’s seen as the norm.

and i really really don’t get it. they all went to prestigious universities, most of them are actually talented and capable people. yet now they work for soulless big companies in a soulless city. and sure, writing emails all day is annoying and repetitive, so you’re only being robbed of your time and not your energy. but even for those who have a kind of special skill, why would you work for a company that doesn’t care about you? and people overwork, stay longer hours, take shorter lunch breaks for what? for who? to afford more alcohol and drugs? your work doesn’t even belong to you! and no one seems bothered by that!

and then best friend Y said that he can’t wait to be done with his masters and start making big money. not to give too much away but his area is gonna be like finance/tech/trading etc. so imagine doing that for some big company every day. it’s so impersonal. and yet that doesn’t seem to bother him at all, he’s just excited to make money.

like i really don’t understand how people live like this. don’t you want to do something that belongs to you? are you not gonna feel robbed, spending 9 hours per day doing something for someone else? and, sure, money is necessary, but working at a soulless office sounds like torture. won’t it feel like you’re wasting your life away?

like, really, i don’t understand any of it. maybe it’s my post-soviet background idk. my parents never worked in the traditional sense of the word. they did some stuff in the 90s and then my dad started doing shady business in montenegro. and my mum and my step dad have their own second hand store and also an IT business. no one in my entourage had ever worked for a company. and it makes more sense to me. you do your own thing, you earn money, you own the things you do.

but if i want to live like this, what the hell am i studying for? i picked the most employable major, people keep telling me that i have the chance of having a great career bc i speak 4 languages, have a lot of soft skills yadayada... but i just can’t see the purpose of having a traditional career. like what’s the point? im the only one in my circle who doesn’t do drugs/smoke and i don’t want to. ive already struggled with depression bc i felt like i wasn’t in control of my life and i don’t want to find myself in a situation where i literally have no control over my work. but i can’t just do business. that would be a waste of potential, right? my mum didn’t come all the way here for me to be a store manager. i feel like i have to work at a bank or something.

i don’t know. as i have said, either i have something missing in my brain that’s supposed to make you understand how the world works. or im in my “im 14 and this is deep” phase and none of what i said holds any value bc it’s just immature. or im too arrogant and think im too good for society and feel special. or im super insecure and too scared to leave my cocoon and enter the adult world. i don’t know. but it’s all making me anxious.

#my bf said that it's kill or be killed basically #and with my upbringing and education i have the potential to be on top of the hirarchy #and i should strive to be on top to ensure a better future for my future children #bc if not i will be crushed by society and remain lower class for the rest of my life #and not be able to afford toys or guitar lessons for my kids #which i understand #but i don't know how to motivate myself to be normal #september #septembernew

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bandofchimeras · 11 months

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posting a lot rn sorry Im gonna readmore this vent that is a standin for next therapy session

i have a lot of trauma from losing my last few housing situations over interpersonal conflict and not having enough money or being good at managing my money. I was too ashamed to ask for what I needed until it was desperate and I had no options.

I have big decisions to make that are producing so much anxiety. and am burnt out. but also grateful and astounded at the miracle that is life.

so can't handle small talk right now. my whole chest is splitting open with the need to be somewhere I feel loved and safe bc I know who tf I am now....but knowing I have to make these next moves out of my own initiative

somewhere deep in my brain I know this isn't all my fault but I had to stop victim thinking to get myself out of the Hole and consequently just Shut Up about the Pain

the last people I lived with really wanted me to shut up and conform perfectly to the anxiously controlled life they'd constructed bc I was there temporarily

and for my part I was in depression self centered funk and coming out of abuse too brainfoggerd to remember the rules

One of them is a former mutual and he was also a transmasc person I had a crush on and we had a short little Thing

what they ended up doing was 1000% shitty asshole stuff like kicking me out in the middle of winter after I communicated I was in too much pain from moving in and work, and requested a two week extension, and trying to charge me illegal "storage fees" when I needed time to get my stuff after being kicked out.

my discord friends had to help me parse that these people were not my friends and did not care about me at all. I thought they did. but the guilt they laid on thick and blamed me for their actions has been dragging around my ankles for awhile and I just want to shake it off, I want to be okay and not soaked in guilt like milk toast

the situation also led to my car being stolen, getting in a crash, my cats health severely declining until she passed away this spring. just fucking wrecking ball on everything I was attached to for any sort of comfort or sense of reality.

Right before that my long term job that was....dubiously ethical, my sort of boss fired me in a similarly guilting way, and similarly could see exactly why they had a problem with me but I just, at the time I simply could not show up how I needed to. Not killing myself was an accomplishment. And this boss was deeply prejudiced against autistic people despite running a group home. I genuinely hated her guts for how miserable she made everyone around her while also recognizing I wasn't doing much better.

anyways through this time period kitchen work has become this attachment that toughens me up and feels doable while my brain is inflamed, despite being shit for my disabled body. I can't shake free quite. I don't have a permanent house and all my friendships feel weird and troubled in that way only mutual survivors of emotionally neglectful or abusive families and religious trauma can, like every thing I do or say can be wrong, or isn't giving someone enough attention or isnt the response they want or is bad bad bad bad

and so yeah, making new friends is hard

letting people in feels impossible

looking for decent jobs too

I'm not a mess in the way I have been but it's all messy inside and I'm sad and tired and very hypersensitive to rejection, every day breaks and makes me again and I miss writing and loving and feeling good

I thought pride would be so fun and make me feel better. It was cool in a lot of ways, but also grimly corporate and fangless and expensive, there were a ton of missed connections and the couple I went with was being nitpicky and hurtful to each other and even at the club dressed to the nines and dancing my little gay heart out I felt disconnected and ignorable (maybe it's just a Seattle thing, moving from a small-town environment into big urban reminds you you're nothin special all in all) and couldn't see the magic

I miss my ex or at least keep seeing stuff that reminds me of caring about her in that specific way and the bridge we tried to build across everything despite it all and I know we still care about each other just couldn't stop the fucking awful Bullshit, moving on would be easier if I could just dismiss people entirely

and at work things started falling apart too, my boss got super guilt happy at overworked caregivers and I lost all respect for him and was mega triggered and posted about it and embarrassed myself. theyre more okay I guess but everyone seems so demoralized and worn down by being criticized and used up and overcharged and under loved and I don't want to give any more right now, I want to rest rest rest and make art and I can't let myself while I'm living in someone's living room and both of us are working around eachothers mood disorders

meanwhile my family while making progress is still on about how I have to accept criticism of my gender identity if I want to talk to them about the harm done by their religious ideology and MEANWHILE I develop deep feelings for yet another unavailable cis man for bare minimum shit

i don't know I guess it feels like other people know how to have friends and love and enjoy things and I am missing the boat and if I don't change something indistinguishable super fast, it will be too late for me and I will continue to ruin every good thing that comes my way and.magnetically attract trouble

and it doesn't help that my attempts to connect online also feel desperate and awkward like I'm really a sick puppy who wants headpats but aren't we all they say

some days I do think overall it would be easier to Kermit but I can't do that to my siblings AND there are many buoyantly beautiful things bout life I am looking forward to like top surgery and kissing boys like I mean it which someday will feel real and not like a knife twist in the chest

also I haven't got enough sleep lately and my period came back so hopefully this stupid shit is more bearable in a few days I'm just gonna watch OFMD and hug myself to sleep and literally kill anyone who is a hater about the tiny things that bring me joy bc I am fucking doing my best out here to stay afloat and not yuck other people's yums either

#personal #i wanna say BPD but also just #too much shit happening #also my fuck ass ex employer has nog emailed me back about my tax documents #which i need to get my return #everything is too much i really do want and need a hug #suicide mention

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whyjm · 4 years

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Why I did not like the Spn finale

This is gonna be a long post..

I cannot get over my thoughts about how it ended and how bad I feel about it. I am so angry, sad and feel so utterly disappointed, I cannot wrap my mind around how this was supposed to be a satisfying tying up emotional archs ending??? Bc it was so far away from satisfying I would laugh if I was not presently crying over it..

There are several things that irked me a lot. Many people have voiced the problems of this show and its ending much more eloquently than I will ever be able to do.. But I gotta get these fucking thoughts and feelings out of my system.

I have been with Spn since the first episode aired. I am a straight woman, I don’t have to fight for representation, I don’t have to worry about coming out and being accepted for who I am, I don’t have the daily struggles of feeling anxious or depressed or suicidal or not being able to be who I am. I am lucky that way!

To me love is love and all love should be equal! And I stand with all who struggle and all who are not free to be who they are. I see you and I love you and I support you fully!!!

To see my friends having to fight, and then on top of that have a show that has meant so much to so many people be butchered and have a negative last message sent out, in its last 36 minutes of its life … It is a hard pill to swallow.

Cas and Dean

In 15x18 we got to have a beautiful confession from Cas to Dean where Cas tells Dean he loves him and we know this is romantic love bc Cas begins by saying that the one thing I want I know I can’t have and then later I love you. Also Misha confirming it! This scene made me ugly cry so hard bc FINALLY.. (BUT what is missing from it.. the editing is strange.. bc Cas pushes Dean to the right but he falls to the left. Dean has no tears in his eyes while he looks straight at Cas when he talks, but he has tears in his eyes when he looks over his shoulder and see the empty. So what in this scene has been cut away and WHY?) Misha and Jensen did a great job with this and Cas got to find peace in just speaking his truth... And it was beautiful to watch and after having seen Dean sitting sobbing on the floor the natural and logical continuation of this would have been to in the next episode address this, but in episode 19 no such thing happened. And I wondered where did Dean’s grief go where did his CARE for Cas go?? Dean who has been depressed and suicidal when Cas have died before is all of sudden cold and act like nothing have happened at least nothing that affected him very deeply.. It felt disconnected and strange. And it continued on like that and it felt very strange to NOT address such a HUGH plot point. It’s not enough to have Dean say to Chuck to bring Cas back or to see him wasted out of his mind, or hugging a dog like his emotional wellbeing depends on it.. This is not resolution or addressing it.

All of season 15 has felt like the relationship between Cas and Dean has been in focus and important to the overall arch of the season, and explored and then all of a sudden all traces of it are just ripped away, erased completely.. To have a confession like this go unacknowledged to me is poor writing bc you do not leave this big of a thing hanging in the air without resolution (fine you can argue Cas got resolution but I feel that no Cas did not get resolution either bc his feelings SHOULD have gotten a response no matter what that response was.. Dean did not, we never got to hear or see his version or his thoughts about it.)

I was thinking narratively they HAVE to address this, Deans thoughts and reactions to this gotta be shown. They HAVE to resolve this, acknowledge it. I have been sure a long time they would NEVER have Dean reciprocate Cas love but keep it in subtext bc they are too fucking chickenshit to do that but at least have Dean talk about Cas….. that I expected him to do.. But it was not done in 19. I got the horrible feeling in my gut that they are not gonna resolve this they are gonna fuck this up, they are gonna go full brothers only and not give a fuck they are gonna push Cas out and show no care. Then we come to the final episode and boy howdy is there a lot to unpack with this episode.

(I had watched the long road home before the finale and when I watched that I KNEW that the end was going to be a letdown I felt it in all of me that I was gonna be disappointed. And I was proven right. And I have so many thoughts all jumbled up around each other that I don’t know in which end to start so sorry if what follows is incoherent and rambly.. )

15x20 - The end

20 felt like a FILLER episode, right up until Dean’s death scene I was bored and was seriously considering turning my computer of and just not watch. (A finale should be as engaging and emotionally packed like episode 18 was. I refuse to acknowledge 20 as the end.. To me it ended on 19. That wrapped things up. Not completely satisfying but hell of a lot better than the disaster that 20 is.) But then Dean was impaled on that rusty spike thingy and I was watching with attention. I GET why they did Deans death the way they did, even if that is one shitty death for Dean and could have been fixed so he did not die.. I get what they wanted to get out of it: a brothers sad moment that they turned into a irksome thing. I actually cringed about the head thing and the hands and the farming of it all just urgh I got sick to my stomach watching that. What should have been a beautifully sad moment was put together in a romantic coded way and that to me ruined the heartfelt goodbye. Bc you do not touch and hold a dying family member like that. I KNOW I have said goodbye to my fair share of loved ones that I have loved soo deeply, but the thought of touching like that NO no way.. And also they have NEVER done that forehead touch in previous deaths, so to do this now just felt irksome.

They killed Dean a character that has struggled his whole life with being daddy’s blunt little instrument, who has self-worth issues and are suicidal, who has never lived for his own sake but have only ever lived to protect and raise another, he continues to put others before himself though (up until the last couple of seasons where we have seen them both break away from this toxic behavior). Finally he was allowed to LIVE and have a life that was not controlled, not running in a hamster wheel like a fucking puppet on a string. He was Free of all of that. He was free to go after what HE wanted for himself and what Dean wanted was LOVE, in my mind its perfectly clear that Dean loves Cas back bc that is what the story have been telling us.. its right there and the story do not make sense without it. Many others have done a great job at talking about this and describe this way better than me. So I leave further discussion about that topic to them.

Dean was looking for a job. The angel Dean has loved since purgatory told him that he loved him and then died sacrificing himself to SAVE Dean yet again and then Dean dies a few days later.. How is this doing justice to Dean and what the hell kind of message does this send out to the ones watching?? They are saying it does not matter if you fight, your destiny is written for you and the only relief and comfort you will have will be death. They are saying Meh don’t fight it’s better to die bc it does not matter what you do. This is one of the fucked up messages this godawful ending sent to all those who have identified with Dean and Cas throughout the years.

They also say Cas who has been part of the story for 12 years is not important enough to have there, they IGNORED Cas, a mention in passing does not do justice to a character that has been crucial to the boys lives for 12 years. Dean Screamed in Sam’s face CAS IS FAMILY, Dean was destroyed when Cas died, he was hurt when Cas left bc everyone leaves Dean, Sam missed Cas etc… but still not important enough to show up in heaven in the last episode greeting first Dean and then Sam to heaven.. PFT…

To leave Cas and Misha out of the FINALE of a show that he has been part of for 12 years is so fucking disrespectful to Cas, to Misha and ALL the fans who love and adore both. It also makes no sense since they all say how beloved Cas and Misha are. and don’t go fucking covid made it impossible bc the last scene with all those people without masks.. No that is just lying liars who lie…Covid my ass! This angers me a lot.

Family do end in ONLY blood apparently…..

(And maybe lead to a lot of viewers for walker??? hence this very nice shirltess Sam scene............. ) shirtless Sam is always good though so no complaining here.

We see Sam and the dog give Dean a hunters funeral.. NO OTHERS are there? How is it possible that none of the found family wouldn’t want to be there and show up?? Jack has restored everyone but still only Sam and the dog are there, no Eileen, no Jody and the girls, Donna, Garth, and the list goes on and on. Bc they wanna hammer in harder that supernatural has ever only ever been about two brothers and no one else matters ever.. It does not matter that this has not been true since the earlier seasons. The show of course is about Sam and Dean’s lives and journey through life, and I have loved to follow along on their journey. BUT it was a long time ago this was the ONLY thing that mattered (bc if it had only been about the brothers the show would NOT have gone on for this long). Along the way they have picked up FOUND Family, and the message of the show has been Family don’t end in blood, Always Keep Fighting. But this last episode reverted back to season 1 and disregarded ALL character growth and storytelling of the past 12 years and went with fuck it ONLY Sam and Dean are important. So the next fucked up message they sent where: There is no Family don’t end in blood.. The only family that matters is blood. And then they have the balls to say Always Keep Fighting.. Are they fucking kidding????

Character development…….. who????

Sam lives on after Dean dies and we get a montage of his life where he look miserable and is shown to not being able to get over that Dean died. We get a blurry wife and a kid named Dean. In his house there are photos of ONLY himself, Dean and their parents and maybe one of his son? Don’t remember all the details and refuse to watch that episode ever again. But no friends, no family, no happy moments are shown, it looked like a very lonely life. He dies with only his son there.. WHERE are Sam’s friends??? This montage of Sam’s supposed happy life is NOT happy bc he is not able to get over that Dean is dead, he can’t live a happy life bc Dean is not there - again something that irked me and felt disrespectful to all the growth Sam and Dean have gone through. It was toxic codependency all the way through and that is not satisfying to watch. Especially since the brothers had actually broken that dependency. Sam had broken free, Sam have through the years wanted to get away from Dean and live his life as he wants and then he was happy…We have a moment way back in season 5 maybe? Where Sam runs away and this is shown as one of his happy moments in dark side of the moon.. No Dean in his happy places, Sam having thanksgiving with his girlfriend and her family, Sam alone with a dog. We have Sam and Amelia when Dean was in purgatory. So Sam IN text have been shown being able to be happy without Dean so why could he not do it this time?? Makes no sense! You can grieve but still have a good life.. But they CHOSE to show it like Sam was miserable bc Dean was dead and life was not worth living happily without Dean there..

The brothers have lately interacted like two individual adults, separated from each other, making their own decisions and trusting each other in making them, they wanted different things in life. And seriously WHERE DID EILEEN GO?? Why was Sam not reunited with Eileen that he some eps previous was shown to love, no instead they had blurry wife which feels like such a cop out. Sam did not get to live a happy fulfilling life and why did Sam not deserve to live a happy life with Eileen??? I know they are blaming corona for a lot of things missing in the finale that they intended.. BUT and this is a BIG BUT remember Jensen did not like the ending it did not sit well with him, he had a hard time digesting it, he objected to the ending! He spoke about that dying in battle would not be a satisfying ending - see the video of him talking about this at SDCC 2019. There is so much more to say about this but other people have voiced it so much better than I ever could so I move on to the next issue.

Dean in heaven

Dean when he first arrives there happens upon Bobby who tells him John and Mary lives down the road and that Rufus and Arheta lives around there too. I hope Bobby’s wife was indoors, and that Jack with the help of Cas fixed heaven. To this Dean only smirk/smiles.. and then Dean sees baby and goes for a drive ALONE with the words he will be here soon from Bobby again Sam is the only one that ever matter PFT. Dean who found a home in the bunker alongside Sam, Cas and Jack who told John: I have a family and that he was happy with himself and his life…. Spends his time endlessly driving around alone just waiting for Sam to appear.. ALL of Deans growth is thrown out the window.. he is reduced to salad dressing. Deans only purpose is to live for his brother and cannot possibly have what he WANTS for himself not even in death. He drives around for who knows how many years until Sam dies. HOW is this justice to DEAN? How is this a good and satisfying ending for Dean. Dean who wanted to LIVE, Dean who wanted to experience people in new ways, who had let go of Sam and saw Sam as his own person, now in heaven only drives around waiting for Sam to get there having no life or meaning of his own. It pisses me off to no end that they reverted back to toxic codependent Sam is all that is important to Dean shit.. They have broken away from this shit years ago and this is how they choose to end it right back at the beginning..

Now what is the point of telling a story of growth and love and life if all that that journey amounts to is ending up at the exact point it started on?? You can watch season 1 and 2 and then this finale and it makes sense.. But having watched season 1-15 this ending does great injustice to the characters and the story. Again many others have written way better posts about this that expresses the great disappointment and hurt that is being screamed everywhere right now.

The Actors

I want to add the performance of all actors through the years, the love and care they have poured into their characters are amazing I have loved every bit of that journey. I love Jared, Jensen and Misha, and all the others for their amazing work and that is maybe why it hurts so much it ended in this way!

#spn 15x20 #Supernatural #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Jared Padalecki #dean winchester #dean #sam winchester #sam #castiel #cas #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #rambly thoughts about the end #the end

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this-way-dahling · 5 years

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When is it appropriate to fucking kill myself

#sorry ik i probably shouldnt be saying shit like this but ive been having such a shitty day #idk i just go through depressive episodes and te past few days have been shit #like i had such a good week last week but then the school canceled the dance that was happening ON MY BIRTHDAY #and i was super fucking excited for it but no apprently the only fucking dance we get in the shithole town is prom #and then im having a birthday sleepover this weekend but one of my best friends cant come so that fucking sucks #and i just feel like shit #i wanted to hang out with my dad today and he knew i felt like shit and i told him multiple times that i just wanted to hang with him #but fucking god forbid he misses an episode of game of thrones #which hehas recorded btw #bc of course not having the episode spoiled for him is so much more important than his own fucking daughter #hes not a bad dad but all he fucking does is sit in his room and play video games and go to work #i never fucking see him and the one time i actually wanna do shit he turns me down #i guess he really loves me huh #and my mom used to have depression too but now im trying to tell her whats wrong and shes going #its not that bad honey :) everything will be fine :) just go for a walk:)#and im like yeah okay it dark outside and i dont wanna get fucking murdered cause that could very well happen where i live #i just dont feel like doing anything but i dont wanna do nothing #like i dont wanna actually die but i just wanna not exist for a while yknow #like if i could go to sleep for a like a couple months or soemthing that would be great #idk i wanna die but just for a little bit ya feel me #idk man i hope ur day is going better than mine #even though im pretty sure no one wouldve read to this point anyway lmao #suicide tw #depression tw #paige’s thoughts

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sassysweetstories · 4 years

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isolated

Request: " Hey! I have a teen wolf request where reader is part of the pack and has been best friends with Scott and Stiles since childhood. But lately she's been isolating herself from the group. Even at pack meetings she doesn't talk much and is almost always on edge. She's struggling with suicidal thoughts, too, but doesn't tell anyone bc she doesn't wanna bother them & doesn't think anyone really cares that much. ++ ++Somehow the pack figures out what's going on and they all remind her how important she's to them and there's too much fluff. Also, if you could slip in some Isaac x reader into all this that would be amazing. Sorry this is so long. And if you're not comfortable writing this, it's fine. Love your writing! :)”

Ship: Isaac x Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, minor kissing, suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, angst, self-deprivation, etc. *WARNING READ AT YOUR OWN ACCORD*

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317@bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19@violence-and-velvet@lachicadelamanzana @teenwolfbitches2

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to the owners.

Third P.O.V

Strange how something as bright as the sun cannot alter the attitude of a person. The beaming warm energy seemed to be sucked up by the clouds, its darkness far more superior. How accurate.. (Y/n) pondered to herself as she lazily pulled her limp body out from under the sheets. There was little to nothing motivating her to go to school. She could lay there all day if she wanted to. With a faint sigh, she knew that the three people she cared about the most wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.

(Y/n) would never get use to the stir of the high school. The zoo like energy left her exhausted and she had only just entered. Scott and Stiles came bumbling in seconds later with the energy of two excited puppies and she couldn’t help but smile softly to herself. Scott handed her one of his many apples while Stiles’ Cheetos covered fingers dove back into his backpack to look for more snacks. Nothing says a healthy breakfast like Cheetos, apples and pop-tarts. (Y/n) had the tendency to ‘forget’ to eat breakfast and the boys would always bring enough food to share between the three of them.

Once they dropped her off to class, the boys sprinted across the school to get to their own course lectures. Almost immediately, the loneliness settles in, drowning her out. Her first class comes around and she wants nothing more than to leave. Lydia doesn’t acknowledge her presence as (Y/n) takes the farthest seat in the back, too preoccupied by her lipstick and mirror to look at anyone else in the room. Not even her teacher sends a warm smile her way as she normally would. “Look at that. Nobody cares about you.” A dark, menacing voice chuckles inside her head. She does her best to ignore it but (Y/n) can feel it growing, bubbling up inside until she explodes.

Go talk to Allison. Allison is nice! She’s always been good to you. She attempts to balance out the bad with a little good. But when Allison runs into Lydia and some other girls, she’s taken away, not daring to put up a fight when (Y/n) calls for her. “Useless. Nobody cares about you. See, she didn’t even bother to acknowledge you.” Her heart falls to the pit of her stomach as she pulls her books closer to her chest, feeling small and worthless as the dark thoughts continue to plague her mind. Curling her fingers around the binding, the young girl finds comfort in the feeling, calming her momentarily.

Isaac notices the interaction, about to join her by her locker when Coach called him for rounds. Cursing under his breath, he ran over to the group. He had noticed how (Y/n) had been smiling less each day. How her laugh wouldn’t echo throughout the hallway or the lack of energy each room had without her presence in it. To him, she was the sole reason behind a lot of things. And without it, the world seem to turn grey and cold. Isaac hoped he could slip out early to catch her and make her smile, just once. That’s all it took to make him swoon for her.

But (Y/n) went home and tossed her work to the side. When she wasn’t in an environment that demanded anything from her, she refused to put any effort in. School or not, her motivation to do much of anything declined rapidly. The weekend went by excruciatingly slow and as each day came, the pack began to notice the behavioral shift in her. Two meetings in a row, not a word left her plump lips. Not like it would matter anyway.. She thought lowly to herself. (Y/n) felt useless in the presence of others, especially around the people who she believed to be her friends.

What was the point of doing this each day? (Y/n) pondered as she stared off out the window. I don’t bring anything to the pack meetings. They don’t seem to care about me or what I do? My parents are disappointed in my grades and lack of energy.. My friends don’t talk to me anymore. What’s the point? Why am I putting so much effort in for nothing in return. Nobody cares about me.. Whether I’m alive or dead.. She sighs to herself. A small tear slipping out from underneath her mask, falling gently on the paper.

“Miss (Y/L/N)..” A gentle voice asks.

She looked up to see Mrs. Abernathy, the English teacher waddling over to sit in the chair in front of (Y/n). Though Mrs. Abernathy had wrinkles around her eyes and cheeks she was an absolutely stunning woman. Her eyes crinkled at the corner when she smiled. This is a woman who’s had a long life and wears her age with pride. And spoke to the kids as she would her own grandchildren.

“Miss (Y/L/N), class is finished. It has been for about five minutes, dear.” Her voice is soft and warm.

Sniffling, she began to pack her bag. “I’m sorry, ma’am.. I didn’t realize.. I’ll get going-”

But before she could stand up, Mrs. Abernathy took her by the wrists and looked deep into her eyes before saying, “Hun, if you ever need anything, please let me know, okay? Things can get really hard in life but there is always someone there willing to listen. I’ll see you for class tomorrow. Now go get some food while you can.”

(Y/n) was taken back by such a intimate conversation. She had always been close with her English professors. They always seemed to understand what she was trying to depict in her writing and did exceptional in the course. But this was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was just the right thing she needed to hear. The faintest bit of reassurance managed to push her through the grueling day. Suddenly her phone buzzes and she can’t help but groan.

From Batman: Pack meeting tonight- Scott’s place @ 7 p.m

Later that evening, she dressed in the same sweatpants and sweatshirt she’d worn to bed for the past three nights, oddly still clean. (Y/n) didn’t plan on staying that long, not like they’d notice if she left early anyways. But when she opened the door, something felt different. Stiles rounded the corner, took her hand and dragged her into the living room. For the first time in weeks, everyone was looking directly at (Y/n) instead of through her. Isaac and Scott sat on either side, smiling reassuringly as Isaac laced his fingers through her hand.

“W-What is happening..?” Unaccustomed to the beady eyes staring back at her.

Scott glanced at everyone in the room and then back at (Y/n).

“This is an intervention of some sort.”

Confused, she tilted her head before looking back at Isaac and Stiles for clarity.

“What the doofus is trying to say is-” Stiles begins but Isaac cuts him off.

“That we know about how you feel..” He pauses momentarily, looking for the right words before continuing. “See, as werewolves, we can sense each others emotions and I’ve noticed how your aura emulates a sense of sadness, depression and anxiety.. I should have noticed it sooner.. But this meeting pretty much is-”

Scott interrupts, “Basically, we want you to know how much we love, appreciate and care about you. Without you, we would be dead meat and you save our asses constantly. You’re the glue of the pack and we’ve all been shitty friends to you-”

Stiles jumps in, “Actually I’ve been great, I can’t say the same for the rest of them but he has a point. (Y/n), you are my best friend and it breaks my heart to see you sad. You are so fun and gentle and kind and you always know how to make people feel better-”

This time Lydia of all people jumps in, “That’s true. I’ve been a shitty friend and I should have spoken to you more. I have no excuse for lack of communication but what Stiles is saying is true. You are so bright and amazing and always seem to make me laugh, especially when I’m trying to be serious. That in of itself is a feat.”

Isaac squeezes (Y/n)’s hand, smiling down at her. “You literally light up a room, ya know that? When you smile, you outshine every star in the sky. Your laugh is contagious and you are so empathetic. No matter what someone’s done, you always seem to see the best in people even when we can’t. We’d be completely lost without you, (Y/n).”

Tears fall down her face before she can even process what’s happening. Scott places his hand her back while Isaac pulls her into a warm embrace.

“T-Thank you..” Her voice cracks.

“Tonight is about you!” Allison smiles, taking (Y/n)’s hands in hers. “Stiles ordered your favorite and we are watching all of the Star Wars movies. We also have popcorn, snacks and blankets. We love and appreciate you so much, (Y/n).”

The young girl looked at all the people who stood around her. And for the first time in weeks, a genuine smile crept up onto her cheeks. That evening, with their bellies full, she put her head on Isaac’s shoulder while Stiles and Scott sat in front of her on the floor, throwing popcorn at each other. Never in her life did she feel so much love and happiness in one room. Curling up closer to Isaac, (Y/n) knew her smile wouldn’t leave her that night. And that’s just the way she liked it.

(I hope you guys liked it! PLEASE COMMENT)

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cockroachmotherfucker10 · 4 years

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hi, idk if this is okay but here goes... this blog's really helped me a lot in recovery from AN. i've been doing well lately. since diagnosis, i've been on my own with this bc the mental health system in my country is broken. i guess my question is, do you have any tips for continuing recovery during grief? a really close friend has just passed and i can't get myself to stomach even a bite. i just don't know what to do, i'm lost. thanks in advance, it's okay if you don't reply to this, really.

Hey! I am so glad this blog could help you, it’s truly an honor! Also I live in America, my healthcare system also sucks ass. Recently had symptoms of kidney infection- couldn’t go to an in person doctor because the only place that took my insurance was closed in my city and they wouldn’t set me an appointment in person, though I tried to get one. Basically just had to tough it out- it sucked. Basically trying to validate you- having shitty healthcare is basically the worst.

As for grief, I am really sorry to hear that your friend passed away. It’s an absolutely horrible thing to go through, for every good memory you had with them you have to remember time and time again that they aren’t here anymore, and that’s a feeling that takes a really long time to become more okay with. Not that it’s the same thing, as everyone’s relationship with grief is different, but I lost a close grandmother on January 30th, 2020. I mourn her everyday, and it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through in my entire life. Still is. I miss her every day, and think about her all the time.

So some words on grief.

1. Cheesy, but it does get better with time.

I read an allegory for grief, and I have found it to be true. Grief is like a big ball inside of a tiny box (which represents you). Every time the ball touches the side of the box- it hurts really bad. You cry, you stare at the wall for hours, you lose your appetite, a lot of things. At first- your ball of grief is huge- and it’s constantly and randomly hitting the sides of the box. For me- the time around my grandmother’s death and funeral, I was completely out of commission. I couldn’t stop crying, and when I did I couldn’t focus on anything. I was completely incompacitated for weeks. But then- over time, the ball of grief gets smaller and smaller, and touches the side of the box less and less. Now, I can think about her without bursting into tears, I look back on my time with her with a sense of nostalgia rather than sharp pain most of the time. Now while my ball of grief is smaller- sometimes it still randomly touches the sides of my box, and I break down crying (hell- I am tearing up now lol). That’s okay. It’s all apart of the process. The grief never fully goes away- but it becomes less and less consuming. This does not mean you love your loved one any less, it just means your body gets better at metabolizing their absence so it hurts less. Also not you can’t force the ball to get smaller before it’s ready to (believe me- I tried). Just let it happen.

2. Express your emotions healthily

Want to know what not to do? Keep your emotions locked into your chest. Especially if you have an ED, it’s important to let yourself cry as hard and as often as you need to. What you don’t get out now will bite you in the ass later. It’s so, so painful. I have never cried so hard in my entire life than I did at my grandmother’s funeral, I couldn’t even get a word of apology out. It felt awful, and vulnerable, and it wasn’t pleasant at all. Crying is not fun, but it was necessary. Afterwards, I felt soooo much better. This is because crying chemically is like letting the extra air out of a balloon about to pop. There is no shame in it. Do it, and do it often. As often as you need, don’t hold it in. Let the pain come, and then when it is ready it will pass. Remember what you don’t process now you most certainly will be forced to process later in the form of chronic pain, worse depression, worse ED symptoms, and worse health. Let it out.

3. There is no wrong way to grieve

So I just spent all that time talking about crying- but it’s also possible that your grief will express itself in other ways, such as feeling numb, or even feeling fine. The key thing is to not judge how your body metabolizes this. Let it do what it needs to do, and do not judge it. To it body will do what it needs to do, fighting it is a pointless uphill battle. Accept it with self compassion, console yourself like a friend would. Tell yourself it’s okay to feel numb, or to cry, or to be okay, etc. let it happen.

4. Reach out for support

Be it from a friend, a family member, or a therapist (or best- all three!) if you feel like it would help you, reach out and talk about how you are feeling, or do something distracting. Mod Lia and I called the night I saw my grandmother for the last time, and we didn’t talk about it much at all. We watched She-ra. That helped a lot. Later I called another friend and talked about how I was feeling. Later I talked about it with Mod Lia, too. And of course my therapist- who helped me process it in a healthy way. On that note, especially with an Ed, if you can, get a therapist. Do it. Better than anybody they will be able to help you find the healthiest way to grieve, and help provide tips and accountability for preventing the worsening of an ED.

5. Tips on not drop kicking your ED behaviors further into hell

Having a schedule for eating (and other necessary activities) really helped me. At certain times, regardless of wether or not I was hungry, I forced myself to eat just because it was food time. Doing this prevents you from slipping into ED behaviors, especially when it is easy to do. Having a therapist or a willing friend to hold you accountable can also help. Express your emotions healthily. Talk to your loved one still, on walks or however. Talk about them in conversation. Do things that remind you of them. Make a memorial for them- whatever that means to you. Allow them to still occupy space in your life, if that feels right. If not, that’s fine. Taking care of yourself is hard, but if you don’t you are going to make it worse for yourself. It’s like puting an ankleweight in when you are already drowning. Take intentional steps (such as setting reminders and alarms) to ensure you take care of yourself, and even see if there are people who would do it with you. Like if you are having a hard time eating, see if a friend will have lunch with you every day at a certain time, or a couple different people (over the phone if need be). Plans, for me, really help me keep it together.

To sum it up, the biggest thing is to not fight the grieving process, set specific schedules for different aspects of self care (with alarms), reach out when you need help, and be patient because it takes time.

There is nothing I can say to make your loss feel better, but it is so hard to lose someone, and I’m sorry you have to go through that. Be patient, don’t expect a ton of productivity out of yourself, and just wait out these unpleasant storms. Thing are never going to feel the same ever again, but eventually you will get used to a new normal, and that doesn’t mean you are doing them an injustice. Keep remembering them, and be patient with yourself.

Best of wishes,

Mod Cass

#mod cass #og post #ask #edrecovery #actually ed #pro recovery #mental health #recovery #ed recovery #grief #dealing with grief

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semiconducting · 3 years

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just reflecting on some personal growth stuff from last year !

im actually. genuinely okay. like i think im starting this year feeling okay! which is atypical.

i think i can attribute it to the enormous amount of work id put into myself over the past year...i remember one year ago being extraordinarily depressed and really just. high strung? incredibly anxious but exhausted. and i fell down a descent slowly from not eating, to getting really irritable and not handling conflicts with friends well, to actively self harming again, to the point where i remembered sitting in a coffee shop with one of my friends and saying out loud that i need to go to therapy. and that i was going to talk to a mutual friend of ours about how the therapy services on campus are. which was a huge step for me! ive always had trust issues with therapy services since i was 12 for reasons i wont go into, but im sure you can gather the point of.

and then, literally the next day after saying that, got news about campus shutting down because of the virus.

and i made all of the effort possible to reach out to my friends and get things figured out to weather the storm because i KNEW shit was going to get bad if i didnt. but only one of my friends was really keeping up, and thats because he and i do homework together so we were already in a rhythm of talking every single week no matter what. and thats not to say that im ungrateful for him or the fact that even still he was there for me while i was going through hell, i have this thing about Not Putting All My Problems On And Confiding In One Person And One Person Only. so i withdrew, i stopped talking to everyone, i stopped logging into my classes, i didnt do any homework, i didnt lead my workshops, didnt hold office hours...i was just wallowing in my own misery

and i made plans to kill myself. and thats like, i mean i could say that several dozen times over the course of a year since i was like 12, but i mean a legitimate walkthrough plan. had my hiking bag packed with everything i was going to use, decided where i was going to, and was going to prep myself for it. wrote drafts and drafts of suicide notes until i decided just leaving the contact info of people who needed to know asap was all i was going to leave. in addition to sticky notes on some stuff in my room for what needed to be returned to who, or if something should go to someone in particular...

and i acted as normally as i could around my housemates. attributed my not leaving my room much to being busy with classes. i have a rule to myself to always sleep at least one night before killing myself because if im really serious about going through with it it can always wait one day. this time i decided i was going to clean my room and leave it as pristine as possible. the last thing i had to do was a load of laundry, and then i was going to do it.

and then someone from campus showed up at my door. because one of my professors filed a report and i hadnt responded to any of the emails id received checking in on me.

so i readjusted. caught up on my schoolwork, just barely finished the semester and definitely didnt do it strong or well (god bless the pass/fail option bc of covid LOL), but i did it nonetheless. went home, started my internship, had a miserably mundane summer.

i grew bitter and apathetic. i was angry at my friends for not being responsive when i reached out to them to talk or hang out or do anything. i got tired of dealing with it. i was tired of feeling alone and like no one gave a shit about me except for when it was convenient for them. i decided that i wasnt going to deal with people who werent willing to put any effort into me, so i stopped talking to everyone and kept up with people who were willing to reach out after the fact.

it’s definitely not the best approach. it’s really unforgiving and it doesn’t give people a lot of benefit of the doubt, but i think it was necessary in some respect. i didn’t have any criteria for how people needed to reach out, or how long after, or whatever, just that they did. really needed people in my life who are willing to communicate with me. i was honest with how i was feeling and why i did things if they did, apologized for the shitty approach, thanked them for still being willing to talk to me, and worked out the best way for both of us to keep things going.

over the months i dont think i really regret the decision, because it’s been a weight off my shoulders. i feel a lot better. i’m far more okay with where i stand in all of my friends’ lives, even if that’s not as a priority and even if that’s as just someone to talk to and catch up with like a couple times a year. it took a bit for it to pay off but it’s nice to take a look at people i was putting far too much work into and upon reflection realizing that they only interacted with me when they needed something from me, and not for me as a person. i think there are still people where there are loose ends and i think i may try reaching out myself to tie those up at some point, whenever i have the energy and clarity of mind for it. but i guess at the end of the day i just decided that people who weren’t willing to communicate weren’t worth the time. i’m okay if that communication means i need to be the one to initiate conversations even! i just need to know that.

but yeah. i came back to ny and started the semester totally apathetic and angry. i was so fucking depressed and bored with everything even if i was keeping myself incredibly busy. the only thing that i found rewarding (and what was just barely keeping me going) was leading my workshop for the intro optics class.

and then a friend -- the same friend i was at the coffee shop with -- reached out to catch up. and i was honestly really bitter and angry with him and was prepping myself to start listing out issues that i hadnt been able to address with him beforehand (side note, while telling friends the issues you have with them is important, listing shit out all at once is hardly ever a good approach especially without warning LOL) but ended up...just having a calming and comfortable conversation about what was going on in our lives since we last saw each other.

n later that day i ended up reaching out to an old friend that i had been meaning to catch up with because we fell out of contact, but had just barely been trying to start talking again in the months before this but had kept missing opportunities to properly converse. but we talked again, and we set up a day to hike and catch up.

and he comes to my house and picks me up. and i get in his car. and its like, holy shit, its been almost a year since ive seen you. and we hugged. and just started to catch each other up on the mess that had been our lives since we’d actively been in contact. we hiked, he told me about the books he wanted to write, we talked about people we knew, we talked about politics, we talked about school, we talked about life, and it was just as comfortable as if not a day had passed...even though it was obvious that he and i were both changed people over the past year. nothing about our friendship was any different though.

we resolved to hanging out with each other every week. decided we both needed the interaction, appreciated having each other around, and had a nice overlap of free time in the week that worked well. friday nights unless otherwise specified.

it was totally unexpected. he’d always been a great friend to me, but i never expected us to get as close as we did. neither did he. he’s probably the first person in my life (or at least in a very long time, and certainly the only person at the time) that i’d been so comfortable with that i practically had no boundaries around. none that needed to be addressed, anyway, because the only possible ones to throw up wouldn’t even come up (but of course, i constantly reassured that as soon as anything came up i would let him know because early on he kept asking sjhdkjfh).

he became something for me to look forward to in the week. towards the beginning he was a shoulder to lean on when i needed it and was willing to listen to things i hadn’t been able to tell anyone out loud. and he confided in me as well. it was comfortable. it was safe. it was a level of trust with vulnerability that i’d never shown anyone else.

but it wasnt even just that! it was fun! hes so fun. we could talk about everything and nothing, and hes one of the only people where i feel like i have to keep up with him in conversation instead of the other way around. we’d jump from topic to topic so much faster than either of us could think and it was all always so interesting. littered with humour that was just dumb and simple. i felt comfortable just being an idiot with him. i felt like i had nothing to prove.

for the past few years ive held to the sentiment that i like to hang around with people that make me a better person. but somehow, with him, its not that i felt like he made me a better person, but that he made me more myself. he saw who i was without any kind of fronts. and i always was afraid to show anyone that me because i always assumed that they would be depressing, loathsome, bitter, angry, and vicious.

but....i’m not. i learned that i’m incredibly loving. that i’d do fuckin anything to for my friends, but always in a way that was healthy and rewarding for both of us. i’m very light-hearted and my sense of humour is so stupid, but also very analytical and thoughtful. just a bit judgmental and pretentious, but always for things that people dont expect. totally open minded in discussions. an avid explorer, and a bit of a thrillseeker. and so, so, so affectionate.

i realized im. not as horrible as ive always made myself out to be. i accepted that i didnt need to punish myself for things beyond my control. i realized that i could believe people when they tell me that they enjoy my company, or appreciate things i do for them, or that they think i’m a worthwhile person to keep around.

its not that i dont have my flaws, its not that there arent things that i have to work on still. but maybe, at my core, i’m not actually motivated by spite, i’m not actually a hopeless pessimist, and that i’m not...broken. i’m not some secretly irredeemable monster.

and for a period of time i’ve been in a place where i could say i was genuinely...happy! and i don’t think i’ve ever been able to say that. i’ve certainly been made happy by doing things with friends in the past, i’ve been through periods where i’ve been okay with where i am at in life, but ever since i was like 12 (but probably even before that) i’d never been able to say that i was happy. it’s not that i wasn’t stressed, it’s not that things in my life were all going perfectly....but they didn’t define my mood. they didn’t define my view of myself. school, despite being the primary focus of my life, wasn’t dictating how i was feeling. even when things were agonizing and depressing because of school, i was still okay. i was incredibly stable.

and i owe that all to him being there for me. and hardly any of these things were anything that he was really directly responsible for, like its not that he sat there and just constantly showered me in reassurance and praise or anything that changed how i view myself...it was just having his company. it was just being able to sit there and listen to him go on about some totally random thing that he was exceptionally knowledgeable about. it was exploring caves and climbing hills. it was cooking together. it was talking about science. it was talking about love. it was talking about music. it was just having a consistent presence in my life, someone that treated me like a priority but never at the expense of himself, and someone i didn’t have to walk on any kind of eggshells around. it was someone who trusted me and respected me not by anything id done to warrant it, but just because of who i was.

it was a reminder that i can take care of my own problems, that i just need to be a good presence in someone’s life and for them to be a good presence in mine.

but also that i can accept help from people who genuinely want to offer it! and that that help doesnt always have to be direct. that sometimes helping me means i get to do something nice for someone else LOL

it was everything i ever needed and i wasnt even looking for it. he meant the world to me and i was so, so thankful for the circumstances that led us here because i was so happy to have him in my life again. i was happy that we were able to get closer because we’d only been able to interact in professional environments before.

and then i realized i was in love. and i had a sexuality crisis. but i didn’t recognize it until i fell hard because it was a different kind of love than i’ve felt for anyone before. it was intense but entirely too comfortable. but i knew that i cared about him, and that he cared about me, and that i really didn’t need anything about our friendship to change but that it had potential to be something even greater than it was.

and i resolved to tell him about it...until he told me first. and that moment was, as cheesey as it sounds, nothing less than magical. we were both so happy and giggly and it was so sweet and warm and i dont know if im ever going to be able to recreate that feeling because it was just so particular, so specific to being something between me and him. its not that i cant love anyone else as strongly or be as happy as i was necessarily, but it’ll never be that same kind of feeling.

but things happened. things got complicated. i think he panicked. and then things that happened just felt so dirty and hollow and dark. he hurt me really, really, really badly, and it managed to happen in the span of four days.

and i’ve spent the last <2 weeks dealing with it. i think he’s dealing with it in his own ways, but realistically i don’t know how because i havent seen him since christmas eve, and we were both definitely not being completely genuine that day. was at his house for a small family party and he and i were the only ones who knew what happened. it was too soon to have healed from it any, but we couldnt exactly be honest about it then either.

and im doing better. im genuinely okay now. and, interestingly, i think i owe it to the past few months of hanging out with him and how ive been able to come to terms with a lot of things about myself. ive been able to show myself compassion. its really ironic.

its a situation where i was desperately trying to throw blame onto myself for, because if i could then i could punish myself for it and use it to fuel that deep rooted self hatred and then i could fix it, because i’d be the one responsible for fixing it. but, and i’ve talked to quite a few friends about it trying to figure out who to confide in about it, everyone who knows about it insists that i cant blame myself for it. theres not a thing about the situation that i can blame myself for. and its so fucking weird, because i cant bring myself to fully blame him for it either, just because it was so ABSURDLY out of character that it doesnt feel like it was anything he could have done to me. it was a boundary that i wasnt ever supposed to worry about him crossing, because he’s just not that kind of person.

and it’s the type of situation that you’re supposed to totally be willing to cut someone off for but...i can’t. he’s genuinely remorseful and i think he doesn’t really know how to deal with it either. and despite it being a massive fuck up its still like...the first fuck up in our friendship from either of us. and i’m willing to see this through. i think it’s salvageable, even if it’ll never be the same as it was. i have faith in our friendship. i think we can make it work.

but no matter what happens. i owe him more than i’ll ever be able to repay him for. and i’ll never, ever be able to hate him because of that. i’m in a much, much better place because of him and for that i’ll always be thankful.

#shut up mega #this ended up being longer and more in depth abt the earlier half of the year than i meant it LOL #a summary of my 2020 i spose #also there's some kinda detailed talk of #suicide ment -#self harm ment -#IM CRYING AFTER WRITING THIS OUT LMAOOOO

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iamanartichoke · 4 years

Note

Why do you feel that way about fandom? (In regards to your latest reblog)

Ah, I’m not sure if I know how to explain it, but I’ll try. (This got long, so I’m really sorry.)

The thing is, I first got into the Loki fandom early in 2018, so I’m coming up on about two years of being active here. That first year was so fun and exciting; I was elated to be able to discuss my Loki theories and meta with like-minded people, and I was so happy (and surprised!) at the attention my fic was getting.

I was also still at a point where I believed IW was going to blow our minds, so there was that extra kind of thrill of suspense (and a bit of fear but, when you believe in the MCU and haven’t yet lost faith in its writers/directors, the fear is surface-level and adds to the thrill - there’s not really the accompanying dread and despair).

IW was a crushing blow to that, of course, but even though we were all devastated, we were all devastated as a fandom. We were still in it together; we had one another to vent to and cry with and share fic with. “Loki is alive bc reasons” became kind of an unwritten rule in most post-IW fics; we all agreed that Loki deserved better.

In 2019, two things happened: one, I was underemployed and dragging my feet on finding better employment due to my mental health, which ruined my life for a little while. I had to move back in with my parents, which (I love them and am grateful they were willing to support me, but) was a toxic environment. I was too depressed to indulge in my escapism the same way (fic and fandom) and my progress on my stories slowed way down. I’ve never quite been able to get back the momentum I had when writing Sanctuary, but that’s another issue.

The second thing that happened was, obviously, Endgame came out and whatever theories and hopes the fandom was collectively holding onto about Loki were crushed. Not only that, but the portrayal of Thor seemed to amplify the divide in the fandom between the pro/anti Ragnarok argument.

It seems, to me, that what was a series of battles or skirmishes only became an all-out war after Endgame. That’s only my perception, of course, but I do feel that the latter part of 2019 saw the divide grow larger and larger. Everyone had opinions on what the “correct” portrayal of Thor was, and how it related to Loki, and whether fanon Thor and Loki’s relationship was founded in canon or not. Everyone was defensive of their own point of view; bullying and name-calling and anon hate became more widespread.

Again, this is just my observation. Those who’ve been on the front lines since Ragnarok came out probably have a much different perspective; I’m only talking about what I observed bc it directly impacts how I feel about fandom these days.

So here we are in 2020; like I said, I’ve been here about two years. I haven’t rewatched any of the Thor movies in ages (although @delyth88 and I are talking about it), because they make me so sad and also so angry. Sad for what we had, angry for what could have been. So much wasted potential. Loki’s horrific end hangs over everything, as does Thor’s radical character change, and I don’t have the same excited outlook about the characters and the meta potential anymore.

Not having watched the movies in a long time, along with that feeling of “ugh” around them, impacts me creatively bc I’m not actively feeding my writing inspiration. For me, fanfic writing comes from being so full of feels about the source material that I just can’t get enough and I need more. I draw my inspiration from things like watching Loki’s facial expressions, catching subtle moments between Thor and Loki, analyzing the way they speak, thinking about the story choices happening, and so on, and so on.

My source of inspiration has dried up, in other words, which has made it hard for me to keep a good writing momentum going. I was feeling great when I rewrote Sea, and then my inspiration kind of plummeted again - this time, bc I felt that I did such a good job rewriting and the response was so positive, I didn’t know if I could finish the rest of the story as well. Like I was already setting up the second half to fail, bc it would be much more “rough draft” than the first - revised and polished, yes, but not gone over with a fine-toothed comb the way the first part was.

The truth is, I carry a lot of stress and anxiety around my writing. I am always incredibly anxious that no one actually likes my fic, that no one is reading my fic, that people think it’s stupid or pointless, that my quirky humorous touches are ooc, that my plotlines are convoluted and boring and my sex scenes awkward and non-existent.

I’m having trouble with the Valki relationship bc I haven’t watched Ragnarok in so long, I’ve forgotten how much chemistry was between them and how it made me feel. I’ve forgotten why I chose to pair them up in this ‘verse in the first place. And I worry about that, too - that the people who read my stories for the Valki are walking away unsatisfied.

So that’s where I am with fic writing - slow and steady, still trying to find my footing, still secretly assuming what I write is shit.

This is on top of feeling more and more isolated on tumblr, mostly because of the aforementioned tensions and overall negativity that’s erupted in the fandom. I have been unfollowed and blocked by people who were once mutuals; I have been blocked by people I’ve never spoken to before.

There’s so much stress surrounding the things I post now - I’m constantly thinking, have I worded this correctly to convey my meaning without shitting on someone else’s opinion? Is this post going to be the one that makes this or that mutual unfollow me? Am I tagging correctly so my pro Ragnarok mutuals don’t see my criticism, and vice versa? Can I still post pictures of Chris Hemsworth, who is possibly the only man in the world I am definitely attracted to, which is a shame bc I agree that he’s kind of a douche now? But he’s so beautiful, but I have to disclaim that it’s just his face I’m attracted to? If I reblog this post about Loki that I think is hilarious, but is also founded on the flat stabby villain characterization, will I alienate my anti friends? Does it imply I don’t understand or appreciate Loki and that, by reblogging the thing, I’m endorsing a shitty characterization?

And so on. It makes scrolling my dashboard uncomfortable and un-fun, bc I end up saving tons of posts to my drafts without reblogging them, and after awhile I am not enjoying myself, so I stop scrolling.

But this means I miss tons of mutuals’ posts, and I was trying to check individual blogs for awhile but I kept falling further behind, and there were more and more posts I’d missed, and I’d get overwhelmed and then feel like they probably hated me anyway at this point for being a shit mutual, so I might as well just keep lurking on the dash for ten minutes and call it a day.

On top of that, I haven’t read fic in awhile bc of this mindset, so I haven’t commented, and then when I don’t get comments it’s like, well, maybe the story’s not shitty but no one’s reading it bc what do I expect when I’m not reading theirs? You’re not special, Charlotte.

The worst part about all of this is that none of it should diminish (and hasn’t diminished!) my love of Loki as a character. I am excited about the series, but I am also very anxious about it - about the story not being good, yes, but also about the inevitably divide that will further split the fandom.

No matter how the story goes, someone’s going to be upset. You can’t please everyone, and trying only makes for worse storytelling. So the wank will continue.

But I love Loki. I love everything about him. I am interested in writing about him and reading about him and thinking about him. I am invested in him and always will be. It’s just that, right now, I’m kind of falling further and further out of fandom and I find I have less to say.

And so I either have to wait it out, or work on my own mindset, or keep on keeping on. I just don’t know how long that will take or if I’m even liked enough here to try to bother.

tl;dr: Fandom has made me cynical and jaded, and it has dampened not my love of Loki, but my love of interacting with the Loki fandom.

(I know you didn’t ask for this hot garbage pile of my feelings, anon, so I’m sorry.)

#charlotte replies #a nonny mouse #fandom wank

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macbookpro-hard-drive · 5 years

Text

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.5

why is it almost 9 and im tired already smh

anyway, i almost titled this part 5 because i dont know what numbers are

update im a dumbass bc this was, indeed, part 5

warnings: uhhh sick moments. hospitals. guilt. squip aftermath. mentions of nightmares.

You woke up days later in the hospital.

The first thing that happened was a blur of motions: you trying to rip out your IV as you panicked, and a nurse who just opened the door grabbed you by the wrist to stop you before you did any true damage. Then came a thousand questions from a thousand people, all trying to pinpoint the when and why and how and what happened that you could barely remember at that moment. When your breathing picked up and panic set in, the room was cleared save for a single person taking vitals. When he left, you were alone. The room felt cold. The room was silent-

Wait.

The room was silent.

Oh, god, the room was silent.

It was gone. Your thoughts were your own again, yet it still felt as if a piece of you had been snapped off. Broken off. Crumbled away over time, yet - yet... how long had you been out? Hours? A day? You couldn’t completely recall. You remembered someone asking you the date, the time, the anything, but... it slipped your mind far too quickly as a thousand other questions followed suit. You squinted at the whiteboard on the wall across from you, stamped into the corner, and red dry-erase marker spelling out the date.

Barely two days. That was good. You were... you were fine. You were okay. This was okay. Two days was okay. Two days was much less than what Rich dealt with-

Oh. Fuck, Rich - had he woken up? He must still be in the hospital - was - were you in the same one? Fuck, you felt foggier than ever. Like the pieces wouldn’t connect, yet lined up perfectly. Every little bit of pressure merely popped the piece apart again, and it left nothing but frustration to fill the space between. You’d have to see him as soon as you could.

The first person who came to see you (not quite counting your parents) was Christine Canigula with a pretty bouquet of sunflowers in her arms. Her purse bounced against her hip with every step around the room (mainly due to her trying to find a nice place to set the flowers down), and she finally gently sat at the end of your bed and talked to you happily about everything that had gone on within the past few days. She opened her bag, fishing out a small little bag of assorted goodies that she placed in your hands.

“I thought you could use something nice,” she smiled, “I hope you get out of here soon.” When you couldn’t muster up anything past a weak smile, she continued, “Rich actually asked about you, when I saw him earlier.”

You looked up. “He did?” You asked, voice quiet and broken.

“Yeah!” She chirped, “he woke up the other day, actually,” she drummed her fingers against her leg, “

The second was Michael. Michael, who had a ball of emotions choking him as he searched for the right thing to say to you. Worried and angry and upset and... relieved. All of it evaporated as you told him everything. Every detail, every action explained - and he realized what lied beyond the glimpse you’d given him while you looked as if you were trying to escape his house. He sat on the edge of your bed in stunned silence, just staring at the floor as you felt guilt creep into your stomach.

“Michael?” You finally said, voice quiet. “I’m... I’m sorry.” You paused, “for everything. You - you don’t have to forgive me, but...”

“You used me.” He said. You could hear the underlying anger dripping from those three words alone.

“I know.” You swallowed your emotions. “I’m... I know it was awful and I should have fought more to not do that, but...”

He finally looked back at you. “So,uh... how much of that was real, then?”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to stop for a moment, looking away. “I... I don’t really know,” you said, voice cracking and giving you away entirely. “Shit.”

“I mean-” He said, “you were - it was weird, [y/n]. One minute you’d be one way, and then... you were, y’know, you. It was like things never changed.”

That hit you hard. “Michael?” You choked out his name, before continuing, “please don’t tell Jeremy.”

“What?” He stared at you, “[y/n], he deserves to know-”

“No! I mean - he does,” you clarified, “I just - I need to tell him this myself.”

He bit his tongue for a moment. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna have to tell him some things before he loses his shit, [y/n]. He was fuckin’ freaked when the ambulance drove off.”

After a moment of stunned quiet, you mustered up a quick nod. “Right. Just - don’t tell him everything, alright?”

The conversation had died there. After a few more minutes of silence, Michael stood and made his way to leave - rattling off the usual “get well soon” message that you expected.

“Michael?” You called out, and he stopped. “Thank you for coming to see me. I... I appreciate it.”

His smile had faded, and he nodded a little. “Yeah...” He looked back at you, and he looked so soft and genuine that time. “Later, [y/n].”

The next day, Jeremy was shoved into your room without much of a chance to gather his bearings. True to his word, Michael had explained a few things while leaving Jeremy pretty in the dark on what had happened. The hardest thing was looking at Jeremy and telling him the rest of your story. That you had wasted six hundred dollars on a stupid, shitty pill that you thought would help you. A pill that you thought would help you essentially get Jeremy to reciprocate the feelings that you bit back and hid underneath everything. You lied through your teeth that you had just wanted him and Michael back. You couldn’t just... admit that you had a crush on him, could you?

He reached out and laid a hand on your own. “Michael told me.”

Shit. Fuck. Nope. You nearly hit the button for a nurse in that moment to try and see if you could get him out. What the fuck, Michael? “He told you...?”

“Look,” he said, “I’m flattered, [y/n], I just... I like someone else. I mean, you’re - you’re cool and all, but-”

“I get it, Jeremy.” You said. “I... I understand.” You paused for a moment, “but... I did miss you and Michael, y’know.”

“Why’d we stop hanging out?” Jeremy asked.

Something inside of you hurt at that question. “I don’t know.” And that was true, to say the least. You had your suspicions, sure, but at the end of the day, the why rested without an answer.

He stared at you. “Wait...” He trailed off, before looking away. “Oh.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “shit.” He looked back at you, “hey, uh, I’m - I’m sorry for dropping you like that- I just-”

“I get it.” Which was sort-of the truth, at least. “You don’t have to apologize, Jeremy.”

“... Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in school,” he stood, “feel better soon-”

And then he was gone.

Three months later, and you were still haunted by a voice in your head every so often. You started therapy shortly after you were released from the hospital, the mystery of what happened to you remaining as such. You started medication soon after, your depression having grown worse post-SQUIP (and your father had been glad for you getting help, since he’d admitted it hurt him to watch you suffer for so long while being unsure of what to actually do to help you). You attended group therapy outside of Metuchen.

You had Rich. Rich, who picked you up on Thursday nights to drive you to group and back again. Rich, who knew how you felt and hid his guilt for pulling you into this shitty world of trauma and pain that’d haunt you for who knows how long. Rich, who slung his arm around your waist casually when the two of you were hanging out and was touchy with you in a way that made you feel safe and secure. You had Rich at your side, the friend that you honestly had never expected to have but were glad for at the end of the day. While you wished he didn’t feel the pain that you did, it was almost... nice to know that someone else understood.

At two in the morning, one mid-February day, he called you.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yeah... you?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yep,” he dragged the word out. “Uh - do you...?”

“You go first, Rich.”

His phone must have been on speaker, because you heard the sound of him shifting in bed - blanket swooshing as he probably turned over onto his side. “Same old shit.” He began, “I, uh, was in Jake’s house, and... it was on fire. My, uh... It was there.” He paused for a moment, “y’know. Saying the same shit.” You didn’t have to see Rich to know he was touching his neck, fingers running along the scars there. “What about you?”

Your phone was lying beside your head. Shutting your eyes, you took a breath before exhaling slowly. “It was, uh, actually... good for once. I mean - it started good. I was... I was with Jeremy. I... think we were dating? I don’t know - we were holding hands and I had let go and walked ahead only to notice he was standing still, and - it... it’s weird, Rich, but - I swear there was some kind of stupid circuit pattern that, like, trailed down his neck - and... and his smile, Rich-” You paused, taking a shaky breath, “and then I heard it.” Another long pause. “Then I woke up.”

You heard Rich suck in a breath. For the longest time, there was silence on the other end. Despite not hearing any chimes to indicate it, you thought that maybe he had hung up. But then he spoke, voice quiet and broken, “why did you say yes?”

“What?”

“To - to buying it, [y/n].”

You stared up at your ceiling. Soon enough, you kicked off your blankets as you grew too hot for comfort, shifting against to try and find some sort of comfortable position. “You sold it pretty well, I guess.” You started, before biting your lip for a moment, “I thought it could help me.”

“... With?”

You changed the topic. “Why’d you take it?”

No response.

“Rich?”

“Gretch is gonna fucking suck tomorrow.”

“... Yeah.”

“You wanna skip?”

No, you wanted to say. But you shrugged. “Yeah. Where are we doing?”

“Fuck, I don’t know - Wawa?”

“Sure.”

Rich’s truck was like a second home to you, between the times the two of you skipped classes and every drive to and from therapy. The two of you skipped class too often - sometimes morning classes, sometimes afternoon, it always depended on how the two of you were doing. Sometimes you’d sit in the Wawa parking lot, eating breakfast or lunch, enjoying the rebellious freedom that came with skipping class. The guilt would stay in the backseat, a constant reminder of your fuck-ups, but... you were glad to have a moment to breathe.

Rich’s hand found yours that morning. He squeezed it. For a minute, there were just two broken teens sitting together, holding hands, trying to feel less broken together.

Over a week later, you texted Rich after hearing it - or, at least, you thought you did. He told you to call Michael - closer to you, and carrier of the Mountain Dew Red at you and Rich’s mutual request. Your finger lingered over Michael’s contact information when a thought struck you, hard and heavy. Why call him? Why not let it come back and fix what it had done? You felt broken enough - how much more damage could it do to you? Besides... now you knew how to take care of it. Maybe that knowledge would be enough to help you gain some sort of control over it.

An hour later, Rich texted you saying Michael hadn’t heard from you. Another hour passed. He told you he was coming over. You couldn’t respond, staring at your phone blankly as tears began to well up. Thirty minutes later, rocks hit your window. Five minutes later, Rich was sitting on the end of your bed as you curled back up, the bottle sitting on the bed between the two of you. He looked tired, running a hand nervously through his hair as he didn’t meet your eyes.

“I know.” He said, breaking the silence. “Just - don’t fucking do it, okay?”

You broke your gaze away from the bottle. “What?”

“I... I’ve thought about it too,” he said, quieter this time. “But... I think...” He paused, “it’s just a bad idea, alright?”

“It can’t-”

“It can.” He stressed, before grabbing the bottle with one hand and your hand in the other. He pressed the bottle into your hand, curling your fingers around it in a cliche action. “Just - fucking drink it, [y/n]. I’m tired.”

“You can stay here tonight.”

“Nah,” he stood. “I... need to get home soon. Just... drink it, alright?”

He didn’t leave you until you finally obliged.

The chill in the air that came with early March was no match for the chill you felt whenever you were around Michael. But Michael had the soda, and Rich lived farther away from you, so he became your lifeline whenever you felt the prickly feeling that came with every nightmare of it and he, thankfully without much complaint, would show up on your front lawn. You sat next to him in silence, an half-empty bottle of Mountain Dew Red sitting in your lap as Michael quietly looked up at the stars. The feeling in your stomach almost seemed to weigh you down, keeping you in place until Michael decided he’d had enough, until he gave up on sitting with you.

But he didn’t. He just sat there in silence, wearing his signature red hoodie in an attempt to keep himself warm. His breath colored the air with a puff of white as he exhaled. It was too cold for this shit, and yet... he sat with you.

“What was it like?” He began at one point, slowly looking over to you. “Y’know... the...” He paused, before tapping his temple, as if you hadn’t understood before. But you understood the why there.

“Like I was a puppet,” you said, echoing back something you’d said before in therapy. Almost completely subconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “I... I could disobey, but... it would get mad, and - and I didn’t like that, so I just... I did what it told me to. Sometimes, it would...” The ghost of a shock silenced you, and your breath hitched for a second as you try to regain some control over yourself.

When Michael’s hand landed on your forearm, you flinched immediately. But before he could fully tear his hand away from you (having only just pulled it away slightly), you immediately shifted closer to him. Almost as if he understood, he opened himself to you, and - after hesitating for too many moments - you nearly collapsed into his arms, wrapping your own around his torso and burying your face in his neck. At first you had just wanted the comfort. The warmth of another person. But your breath went shaky, and before Michael could say or do anything else, he heard you choke back a sob before you clutched at the fabric of his hoodie. Every soft, broken apology sent pain rippling through him. He’d been so pissed with you before, and now...

Now it was as if Michael was a child again, having seen the aftermath of hurricanes through Florida on the news. Or like the car accident he once witnessed, only staring before one of his moms tore him away from the sight, picking him up with ease and keeping his face turned away. He understood, all within that moment. He knew you were hurting, and in turn, he felt that pain too. He had hurt. He was in so much damn pain when he found out you’d originally just been using him, and now... he understood that maybe (or, perhaps, definitely, but a definite wasn’t quite there yet in his book) nothing had been your idea. Part of him wanted to look away from you, to give you some kind of privacy, and yet... you clung to him. You kept your face buried in his neck, hot tears wetting his skin, and you shook in his arms as you kept stammering out apology after apology for things that did and didn’t involve him.

That was when Michael decided that forgiveness was back on the table. Neither of you were ready to have that talk, but... the fact of the matter was that he let that option exist again. Every glimpse of you that had come flooding back to him when he visited you in the hospital seemed to haunt his memory once more. The real you. The you he hadn’t seen in so long. And, if he were honest, the you that he genuinely had begun to miss when your presence disappeared all that time ago.

He was ready to try again, if you were there to meet him halfway.

The following Wednesday came with a disgusting feeling of dread the moment that thunder clapped during your last class. You’d left your umbrella at home - clear skies, your weather app had lied - and chances were you were going to miss your bus when meeting with the guidance counselor quickly after school (because, of course, shit never worked out in your favor). So you clenched your jaw and pulled your bag close to you, taking off as the rain pounded against the pavement. You almost slipped, you could barely see through the rain, and you were already soaked to the bone by the time you were a fourth of the way home. When you heard a car coming down the street, you thought nothing of it until it slowed down, pulling over towards the side of the road and steadily crawling alongside you.

Well, fuck, if you were about to die, at least you wouldn’t deal with-

The car honked. When you turned, you immediately recognized the P.T. Cruiser and the two boys inside of it. Immediately, the passenger side window rolled down. “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping-”

“Michael-” You started to say, only to stop as you weigh your options. Get in the car and face Michael and Jeremy - or keep waking home in the rain. You barely even considered the latter as you pulled open the back door, throwing your bag in and immediately slipping into the warm car.

The backseat was comfortable. It had always been comfortable, actually - that much was certain. Even when you were shivering endlessly, sopping-wet backpack lying in the floorboard between your legs as you rub your arms in some attempt to get warm, you felt strangely at home sitting in the back of Michael’s car. The sticker was still on the head-rest of the driver’s side. Jeremy kept looking back at you every so often as Michael made his way towards your house. The moment he turned onto your street, you went for your keys.

And, of fucking course, you must have forgotten them that morning. So you ended up in Michael’s house, sitting on his bed in some of his spare clothes while your clothes are being oh-so-lovingly laundered by the ever-so-gracious Michael Mell. You toyed with the fabric of tee-shirt you were wearing, some indie band logo printed across the chest - something that felt so Michael, when you thought about it. Of course he’d have some obscure merch. You sat there with one of your class binders in your lap, working on homework when you finally get to geometry. As if to make the day even worse, you realized you were missing your calculator.

“Shit,” you said, “fuck-” You looked up to Michael and Jeremy, “can I, uh, borrow a calculator? I think I left mine at school-”

Jeremy stared at you for a split second before immediately going for his own bag. He stammered through a sentence, before he finally pulled out a familiar purple case and held it out to you. “I, uh, was going to give it to you tomorrow - I meant to give it back earlier but I, uh, forgot-”

You took it gingerly from him, before kind-of smiling in return. “It’s fine,” you said, “thank you-” and then you cut yourself off with a sneeze, your arm flying to cover your mouth.

Michael chuckled a little as he laid back, stretching himself along the foot of his bed. “If you needed a ride, you should have just asked, ya goof,” he smiled at you.

You nudged him with your foot. “Come on, Mell,” you said, “I thought I’d be fine.”

“You’re lucky Jeremy saw you, y’know,” he said, “I didn’t notice you crossing the street earlier, so...”

Jeremy flushed at the comment. Your gaze flickered from him back to Michael, “I thought you were driving, Michael.”

“I was!”

“Aren’t you supposed to pay attention?”

“I was!” He said again, sitting up, “you weren’t even crossing in front of me!”

“Thank god for that,” you said.

“Wh- I wouldn’t hit you!”

“That’s what they all say, Michael.” You smiled a little, “no, dude, I totally wouldn’t kill my wife, who would do that? Not me. I wouldn’t kill my wife-”

“[y/n]!” Michael poked you in the leg, “come on - I don’t think I’d be that obvious-”

“Are you seriously trying to say you’d be able to get away with that?” You said, only to notice how silent Jeremy had gone. When you looked back to him, you noticed that he had just sat there, watching you and Michael playfully bicker over his totally not real plans to murder someone. When your eyes meet his, he blinked, awkwardly smiling as he looked away and towards his phone. You barely get a glimpse of the time before you realized that your parents should be home.

So Michael drove you (and Jeremy) home at long last, leaving you to thank him a thousand times on the way there and as you got out of the car. You barely had time to wave back at him before you crossed your front lawn to get to shelter, rain pelting you the entire time as you head inside with plans to tackle your homework.

The next morning, you felt like shit. At three in the morning, you woke up with the grossest feeling taking hold of you and forcing you out of bed and to the bathroom. With a disgusting taste left in your mouth, you sank back, your senses completely muffled as you realized what had happened. Fever. Fuck. You pressed your back against the rim of the bathtub, and you breathed. Shit. Shit shit shit shit- you didn’t need to get sick. You skipped enough class as it was - this was only going to make shit worse.

You didn’t realize you passed out shortly after until your dad stumbled across you. He woke you up gently, before helping you to your feet and helping your sluggish form back to your bedroom after pressing a cold hand against your forehead. Shaking his head, he walked you to your bed, leaving the room and returning with a cup of water to leave on your nightstand. He told you that he would be at work, but that your mom would drop by during her lunch break to check on you and hopefully bring some medicine. You barely processed it before you fell back asleep.

The next time you woke up was around lunchtime. You still felt hazy and hot with fever, but the sound of your phone going off was enough to capture your attention. Michael. He had asked where you were, and you barely have enough energy to type out what you thought was just a simple “fever” - thankfully, auto-correct caught you - before you turned back over with the intent of going back to sleep. Barely ten minutes pass before your mom came in with a plastic bag in her hands, rattling off the contents of it before she felt your forehead. She told you to get some more rest. You happily obliged.

The next day, after a night of bland soup and forcing down your meds with ice cold water, you see a newly formed group chat with you, Michael, and Jeremy, poised proudly at the top of your messages.

Michael: u guys need anything or

You stared at the message. You guys? You barely have time to try and question it further when a text bubble popped up.

Jeremy: i’m good

You: what

You: you ok, jer?

Jeremy: no im sick

You: what

You: how???

Jeremy: you

Michael: jeremys being a little bitch

Michael: hes always like this when he’s sick

Michael: you need anything, [y/n]??

You: idk some good soup would be rad

You: my dad brought some gross shit last night and it sucked

You: parents got medicine.

You: send me love.

You: and tissues

Jeremy: please let me sleep

You: sorry jer

Michael: kk

Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. You forced yourself out of bed, managing to get the front door open only to see a little plastic bag sitting right outside of it. You looked up to see Michael standing outside of his car, and you could only assume that he rushed back to his car to avoid exposure. He waved at you, only budging from his spot when you wave back at him.

Bless Michael Mell and the soup he brought you. You’d have to thank his mom. Or maybe both of them - they were both goddesses in your eyes. You only knew that Michael couldn’t cook for shit.

At midnight, you woke up again, a dull hunger restless in your stomach. You had left some soup for later, and you were fully ready to heat the rest of it up and devour it. You shoved the Tupperware bowl into the microwave, punching in a number before you swayed into the counter, leaning against it to keep yourself standing as the microwave buzzed. Strangely enough... it almost felt internal after a minute.

Then you heard it. Your own name being cooed in a voice that sent shivers and a ghost of a shock through you. Glitching in and out. You panicked. You bolted, dashing to your room to find your phone. Your hands were shaking as you went to unlock it, fucking it up the first two times before finally getting it the last. You didn’t think. You went for the first number you saw.

The moment someone picked up, you spoke. “Michael,” you said, voice caught in your throat, “shit - dude- it’s - it’s back-” You took a breath, trying to calm yourself before continuing, “just - I need the Mountain Dew Red. Please-”

You heard a distant, groggy “...what?” on the other hand as a hand fell over your own, causing you to slowly lower the phone as it appeared before you.

It stood tall as ever, eyes gentle, manipulating your senses as you swore you felt warmth from it’s hand over your’s. “We can fix this.” It said, voice quiet. Soft. Gentle. “We can start over and make everything right.”

“I...” You whimpered, attempting to take a step back. Instinctively, you dropped your phone and shut your eyes and covered your ears in an attempt to drown everything out. “No.” The word spilled past your lips once, twice, too many times as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Fingers grazed your cheek almost lovingly. “Just let me fix this, [y/n].” It said softly, almost kind, and you felt your stomach drop. “You can reboot me - just - another dose of regular Mountain Dew-”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m - you’d-”

“I’ll fix this. I promise-”

The sound of frantic knocking at your front door was enough to force you to your feet as you rushed to answer before anyone else could wake up. “Michael-”

Jeremy stood there, soaking wet and panting like crazy as he clutched a bottle of salvation within his right hand. He straightened up a bit, holding it out to you. “Sorry - Michael, uh, gave me a few bottles as back-up so I ran-” He said.

He shut up the moment you flung your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, completely ignoring the soda he carried in favor of comfort. Just for a second. That’s all you had needed. He stiffened up underneath you as you clung to him, only for you to pull away almost immediately after.

After you took the bottle and unscrewed the cap, downing the drink with nothing with a minor headache following in it’s wake, Jeremy could only stare at you. “You... You really heard it, huh?”

You winced, breath hitching as you swayed slightly. Jeremy’s hands found your shoulders, steadying you as you looked back up at him. “I-” You started, only to stop immediately, “thank you- I’m- I’m sorry you had to run here.” You paused, “I... didn’t know it was raining, or I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine,” he said, letting go of you as he took a small step back. “I’m - I’m gonna head back home-”

Thunder clapped. Lightning flashed in the distance. You reached out and caught him by the wrist, “stay here.” You said, “it’s - it’s late, and... and I don’t want you walking home in the rain.”

He almost debated with you, but another growl of thunder was enough to debunk whatever argument he was formulating as he followed you inside. You locked your front door back, retreated back to your room to find some clean clothes that would hopefully fit him (thank fuck for all your baggy shit, still hidden away in your closet), and handed him a towel. The microwave chirped for what you could assume was the thousandth time, and you rushed to stop it - only to have to punch in more time. You could hear the shower running from the room over. The hum of the microwave, the smell of spices tinting the air... and you felt alive. You were there. Breathing. Heart pumping. Mind... going, at least - even if there were moments of betrayal there. You were still there, and it was strange to think about that sometimes.

The water shut off abruptly, and you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you stopped the microwave just a second before it was meant to go off. As you seated yourself at the kitchen table, Jeremy emerged and made his way over to you. He pulled out the chair nearest to you, and slowly sank into it.

“You feeling better?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I, uh, I should be asking you that.”

“You were sick too, Jeremy,” you said, “why’d you run here?”

“You sounded scared,” he shrugged, “besides - I’m better-” Immediately he was cut off by a cacophony of coughs, as he turned away from you. “I’m fine. What about-” He finally looked back at you, still embarrassed of the shades of red he’d turned, “what about you?”

You suppressed a smile. “I’m... decent.” You shrugged, “I’ve... never really seen it before tonight.”

“You haven’t?”

“Nope.” You paused, “I dunno. Maybe being sick like... weakened me or something.” After another pause, you noticed Jeremy shiver. “You can take my room, Jer. It’s warmer - I’ll just - I’ll take the couch-”

“It’s fine, [y/n] - I’ll just - I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“You are not sleeping on the floor, Jeremiah,” you feigned offense, “you are a guest! You’ll take my room and I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“You’re still sick too, y’know,” he retorted, “just - I’ll take one side of the bed if you want-”

“Fine.” You frowned as you stood, “if you insist.”

After leaving the bowl in the sink, filled with water in the classic “it has to soak” manner, you lead Jeremy to your bedroom. You snagged your phone from the floor, plugging it back into charge as you took one side of your bed - making sure to stay as close to the edge as possible while Jeremy took the other. The room was almost silent, the sound of Jeremy breathing quiet enough to merely tint the air.

Right as you started to fall asleep, you turned onto your back. “Jeremy?” You said, stifled by a yawn. When he hummed in acknowledgement, you continued, “thanks for coming here.”

You barely caught his soft, almost hesitant “yeah, uh, no problem” as you fell asleep.

#mj's writing corner #be more chill x reader #be more chill reader insert #bmc reader insert #bmc imagine #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine

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michaelmilkers · 5 years

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I saw in one of your tags that you mentioned how 21 pilots made emo pretentious and im actually curious about why you say that (not hate i just never knew about them that much)

my friend you have asked me about a topic i am very knowledgeable and very angry about so prepare yourself for what you have wrought

it isnt just twenty one pilots but theyre just the biggest and most popular example

like. take my chemical romance in the early-mid 2000s aka the peak of emo. it was very melodramatic and theatrical, the way emo should be. there was a presence of “we are not like other people” in a lot of the songs, but it was never just that. it was more of a “we have been cast out and we kinda suck but thats okay.” one of the best examples of this is, ironically, i’m not okay.

take, for example, the opening to the mtv music video:

[Ray] You like D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini and croquet. You can't swim, you can't dance and you don't know karate. Face it, you're never gonna make it. [Gerard] I don't wanna make it, I just wanna...

this immediately establishes the song as being about social outcasts and people who dont fit the mold. the fucking tag line of the song is “i’m not okay” ffs, that really tells you all you need to know about the song. but the important thing is it doesnt take itself too seriously either. the music video takes place in a private school, and shows scenes of the band members eating lunch alone, being bullied by jocks and preps, etc., but it ALSO shows scenes of frank putting swim goggles on in chemistry class and ray drawing on his test with a crayon and then licking it, and at the end they all ambush and beat the shit out of a guy in a mascot costume. all of this is cut up by text saying things like “if you ever felt alone” “if you ever felt wronged” “if you ever felt anxious”

do you see the juxtaposition here? the music video could very very easily be a fake deep bullying psa, but its not, because while theyre getting bullied and playing their music in a garage they are also, unequivocally, total fucking losers for obvious comedic effect. it is a very exaggerated and lighthearted version of real phenomena, which makes it more relatable to a wider audience.

the same can be said about the song itself. it has some pretty heavy and angsty lyrics (”i’m not o-fucking-kay”) but the instrumentals are punchy and energetic and catchy and gerard’s vocal delivery is very theatrical but also very deliberate and he still puts real emotion in the words. it sounds like its taking the piss out of not being okay, which is exactly what i as a clinically depressed 13 year old needed, and i bet a lot of other people can say the same. i’m a loser and thats okay. i fucking suck in school and thats okay. i feel shitty and thats okay. i’m not okay and that, in itself, is okay.

with twenty one pilots, on the other hand, there is no theatrics, theres no taking the piss, theres no over-the-top melodrama that made emo what it was.

take, for comparison, the opening lines of heathens:

All my friends are heathens, take it slow Wait for them to ask you who you know Please don't make any sudden moves You don't know the half of the abuse

and this presents, immediately, one of my biggest criticisms of twenty one pilots: their rampant appropriation of mental illness.

because my first thought when hearing this is as an abuse survivor and someone with ptsd they can kiss every single square inch of my ass.

Welcome to the room of people Who have rooms of people that they loved one day Docked away Just because we check the guns at the door Doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades You're loving on the psychopath sitting next to you You're loving on the murderer sitting next to you You'll think, "How'd I get here, sitting next to you?"

they try to do the same kind of nuanced poetic lyrics that my chemical romance did and in my opinion is just doesnt fucking work because they take themselves SO. FUCKING. SERIOUSLY. it sounds JOYLESS.

and the song closes out with this:

Why'd you come? You knew you should have stayed (It's blasphemy) I tried to warn you just to stay away (Away) And now they're outside ready to bust (To bust) It looks like you might be one of us

this is what i mean by pretentious. there is a clear separation of the person/people from whose point of view the song is told and the people the song is meant to be listened to by from the greater population, but theres no high energy or comedic self deprecation to counteract it.

now take some lyrics from heavydirtysoul, a song i actually really like the sound of, im not just shitting on this band bc its not to my taste yall:

There's an infestation in my mind's imagination I hope that they choke on smoke 'cause I'm smoking them out the basement This is not rap, this is not hip-hop Just another attempt to make the voices stop

Nah, I didn't understand a thing you said If I didn't know better I'd guess you're all already dead Mindless zombies walking around with a limp and a hunch Saying stuff like, "You only live once." You've got one time to figure it out One time to twist and one time to shout One time to think and I say we start now Sing it with me if you know what I'm talking about

right back at it again with that appropriation of mental illness symptoms! and some dumbass critique of our generation that doesnt fit in with the rest of the song at all, closing out the verse with “we are not like you” shit. the vocal delivery at least has more energy than heathens, but the lyrics just feel like a mishmash of different points theyre trying to make that have nothing to do with each other.

the best line of the song is undoubtedly “death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit” but its poetic just... for the sake of being poetic? its one of those lyrics that sounds like someone came up with and was like “bro we gotta put that in a song” but then couldnt actually figure out how to fit it into a song in a way that would flow. another example of this is “i cant drown my demons they know how to swim” in bring me the horizon’s can you feel my heart. not shitting on bring me the horizon, i really like sempiternal, but thats another line thats just poetic for the sake of being poetic. and to be put on t-shirts. i know this because when i was 12 i had a shirt that said “i cant drown my demons they know how to swim” on it.

i could do more analysis on other mcr songs, namely welcome to the black parade and famous last words, but i would be here for literal hours and idk if people actually care that much.

to sum my points up:

they take themselves too seriously. they appropriate and romanticize mental illness (forgot to mention that top’s website, at one time, described their music as “schizoid pop” lol). they pull a lot of “We Are Not Like Other People..,.,.,,...” shit.

that last point is not inherently a bad thing, for example the new slipknot album is literally called “we are not your kind” but the song that contains that line as a lyric is all out life, and corey taylor is screaming that entire song and the instrumentals are reminiscent of speed metal with how fucking energetic they are. its edgy and its GREAT. twenty one pilots just sounds like they think theyre the shit.

also, and i want you to read the following sentence in a bass boosted voice to best understand how i feel when i say this:

the twenty one pilots cover of cancer is an embarrassment that completely misses the point of the original song and changed it into a weird amalgamation of lo-fi synth pop.

emo music is dead. thank u and goodnight.

#Anonymous

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lawssword · 4 years

Text

Imma vent for a hot sec because I'm strEsseD feel free to ignore bc it's a lot but here I am on the verge of tears...

Things at uni have been a roller coaster. The fall quarter was stressful, it was shitty. My roommates made me feel like shit and my friends living their lives at home and having fun with out me made me feel like shit. That of course wasnt their fault.

I started getting really homesick. I had a huge relapse in depression. Did things I wasnt proud of. Things I would tell any of my family and not most of my friends. Winter break came around and I dreaded going back.

I didnt want to go back to the job I hated.

To be around people that didnt care about me.

Uni felt like hell.

Then winter quarter started and it snowed and things started getting better. So so much better.

I made friends with awesome people, work didn't feel so bad anymore because we got a way cooler supervisor and I got to know my co-workers better and they're actually really cool!

And there was a really cool guy that I really like. And he likes me back. We spent the whole quarter being friends then...

Just two weeks ago we had our first date and it was fun and it went so well and we were letting things go as fate allowes and taking it slow...

Then the covid-19 stuff started getting more serious and our classes got moved online which was okay at first. Still were weren't taking it seriously and I saw my friends regularly and we did our stuff online from our dorms and went to work and hung out in between. Still being young dumb college kids.

Then they announced that all of spring quarter would be online. And everyone is moving back home. Some just a few hours away, some on the opposite sides of the state, some halfway across the country.

Things were just starting to get really good and it hurts that it's all being cut short and-

Its sucks. It just really sucks. Me and this guy are just getting started and I know its gunna be hard to keep a relationship going like this when we live hours apart and the state is getting shelter in place orders.

And my friends are such amazing people and they're so upset about having to move back so soon and we were supposed to have more. More dorm parties more late night shenanigans more study sessions. Just more...

So tomorrow I'm going to U-hual to get boxes and then driving 4 hours to my dorm to start packing my stuff in tears.

My mom has told me I'm being dramatic and I have no reason to be stressed. So I'm trying to hold back tears. To keep from being mocked.

I feel like my mom is just happy all this is happening because I'll be home where she can control what I do and keep me in her perfect bubble where I feel like I'm suffocating because she still treats me like I'm 14.

I know others have it worse but god it just hurts so bad. I was free and happy and working on my degree. I know it will be over eventually and things will go back to normal but eventually is a really long time to wait in uncertainty.

I just barely got a taste of freedom and it's being ripped from my grasp. God I cant breathe right now.

I just, things were getting so much better and I felt genuinely happy for the first time in years because my over protective mom wasn't breathing down my neck at every decision I've made and I had friends that cared about me and a really nice really cool guy that was intrested in me and there was no drama only good times-

I've never felt more like the whole world was against me and that's such a self centered outlook. I'm sorry

I'm sorry too all the people have it worse than me because I'm outright complaining and I'm sorry too all the seniors missing out on their final days of highschool. I remember how important all that was too me. I'm sorry to all the people being put out out of work. Because all of that is far worse than what I'm going through.

You all really have my deepest condolences and trust me when I say I'm grieving with you because this is all aweful.

Here's to looking forward to fall I guess.

If we last that long.

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seancamerons · 4 years

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Favorite underrated otps? Those ships that some people just can’t stand but you actually love?

underrated pairings okay that’s pretty much all my ships!

brulian ok i know people loved br*cas but i think brooke deserves someone who thinks the sun shines outta her ass and she found that in julian he adores her and they are so wonderful they could cure my depression they make me so happy bc lucas is whatever at the end of the day julian can run circles around lucas and that’s a fucking fact when it comes to loving and understanding brooke bc he and her have much more in common and she never felt inferior to him or shitty or hurt or sad about not being enough and not being let in. they deserve each other because they had such a hard time in love and life and he only has eyes for her. i love them and i will cherish them forever. i need a rewatch.

sparcy now this one everyone's got their opinions on who spin should be with and imma say darcy bc i know i love spaige too but paige didn’t appreciate him for the sweet boy he really is and when nobody wanted to be spin’s friend or even look at him - darcy didn’t give a shit and accepted him with open arms and an open heart they make me feel so happy and they were adorable and sweet and romantic and then fucking canon fucked them over but we’ll always have redemption song and foolin’ to reminisce upon. i can never have nice things.

steve and kelly for some reason i shipped really hard in bh 90210 in the first 2 seasons and it broke me when they had that episode about this rumor he spread about kelly back in the day i really felt that bc kelly even tho they had weird history and steve was bitter she cared for him and they understood each other and were friends after and spent many years being friends and that hurt bad but i loved them together and wanted them to come full circle and never did and im bitter and sad but they had something special

klare even tho it doesnt last forever they’re hella underrated

emma and jay is my ship from hell i swear i’d ship them like no tomorrow even tho my true love is semma i will settle for some emjay i literally know like 3 people who feel this miriam and mike’s chem was undeniable. it was such a missed opporunity for them to date during season 5 (: ahh only in fanfiction and in my dreams

this show is also forever old but back to bh 90210 i fucking shipped the fuck out of andrea and brandon and even tho brandon’s preachy ass was dating every one-episode girl or girl of the week whatever you prefer he should’ve been looking at her they had such a nice dynamic and i think they’d be one of those great ships started out as friends and became something special but of course again brimi can’t have nice things so yea

hmm idk what else i feel like i’m missing something but here’s a few couples! none of which are endgame some never even happened but still underrated af.

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livingasaghost · 4 years

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buckle up bitches we’re reflecting on high school tonight!

recently i’ve been dwelling a lot on ~the past~ mainly high school and it’s been really interesting because i feel like i can look back on everything more clearly now than i used to. like i’ve finally gotten enough space and perspective that it feels...distant. but also if i think too hard i can physically remember it all.

like part of what made high school such a TIME was that i had just started exploring other parts of the internet - obviously i got a tumblr, but i spent a majority of my time reading random blogs and stalking flickr profiles (this was pre-instagram my dudes) and watching youtube videos. and all of that resulted in me creating this version of myself that i thought didn’t exist. the one who read a bunch of cool books and wore rings and cute clothes, who ran a successful blog and took photos on her film camera all the time and wrote songs and posted them on the internet. who made playlists and mix cds and drove around in a janky mini-van (except it was ~cool~ ya know?) and went to bonfires with her friends and stayed up late watching movies at sleepovers....and it all felt like this dream i could never achieve. i just kept seeing it happen to other people and i pretended i was living their lives while i just sat on my couch after school eating cereal and watching reruns of what i like about you. and in truth, i do recall feeling very stuck. i was bored, didn’t have access to a car most of the time, and i also just like...didn’t WANT to go out into the world. i was really depressed and scared and i wanted everything to stay the same forever. (and plus i had a SHITTON of homework to do every night.) but in truth, looking back, i...had that life. that romantic life i wanted. maybe not to the extent that i expected, maybe not in a way that was truly as aesthetically pleasing as i wanted, but it was there. i did all those things. i had a stereotypical high school life. and hell i even did all that PRE-smart phone!!! which was actually great.

it’s just kind of shitty that for YEARS i convinced myself that my life wasn’t enough. like i spent all those months sitting on my parents’ couch on my laptop going “OH WOE IS ME I WISH MY LIFE WERE LIKE THIS PERSON’S!” but like.....did i not notice my parents making me dinner every night? did i not see all the stupid film i developed like a pretentious asshole? did i not notice all the cool books i was reading or the music i was listening to? it just sucks that i was romanticizing a life i already had and i COULDN’T RECOGNIZE THAT!!! so then, as i was considering all this, i wondered if maybe i was doing that now. if i have a life now that is what i actually want it to be but i’m so blinded by all the things i want to change that i can’t recognize it for the beautiful thing it is. like true the last 3 years have been hell and they’ve been weird and they changed me as a person, but goddammit they have been SPECTACULAR! and i don’t appreciate this time enough! i was in my early twenties and doing so many cool things - my job was so WEIRD! so unique! so interesting! - and yet at the end of the day i was still kinda depressed and upset with where i was at in life. i didn’t appreciate a damn thing.

growing old is interesting because you do get a chance to reassess your life every few years and you start seeing patterns and unhealthy ways of thinking, and yet you’re still you. like if 2010 jenna showed up we could talk for hours bc genuinely i still love 80% of the stuff she did. but i’d also have a stern talking to her about stuff like her political beliefs and the career she wants to pursue and the way she handles procrastination and her diet and her self-talk and so many things. because i recognize now all the weird stuff that was going on back then. i realize now that A BITCH SHOULD’VE GONE TO THERAPY BC SHE WAS DEPRESSED! but i couldn’t recognize it then. i didn’t realize a lot of things bc i was just young. and i’m sure in 10 years i’ll think “oh god remember when you were 24 and you thought you had it all figured out?” which is also pretty cool. because if i’m confident in who i am as a person right now, if i’m happy with myself and my life and my work, then that must mean that after ten more iterations of this “self” i will be somewhere INFINITELY better than where i am now. more than that, if it keeps happening, by the time i’m 40, 50, 60, 70, i will be....INCREDIBLE.

humans just love romanticizing things and i find it fascinating that we romanticize the past and the future but rarely the present. like right now i am sitting in my freezing cold room, on my full-sized white-sheeted bed with a fluffy blanket around my legs (i can’t feel my feet they’re so cold) and my hair’s up in a near-perfect messy bun. my room is....incredibly cluttered - i have boxes to my right that i need to pack things in, a suitcase ahead of me that’s overflowing with clothes, my space heater is ON, there’s chickfila on my desk from dinner, and i feel....so content. like it’s a mess, i’m ready to move, but this room has supported me for nearly four years now. i feel at home, happy, blessed. and i know in a few years i’ll be thinking back on this room, on this time, going “oh my god but that gallery wall i had! the lights were so cute! that room had so many bookshelves!!! it was eclectic but damn it was so nice and homey.” and i’ll forget the bugs i had to kill or the fact that i use like 2.5 bathrooms regularly or that the kitchen was gross or that it’s always freezing in the winter or that the hardwood floors were covered in hair...but there’s something romantic about that too isn’t there?

i guess i just miss ten years ago. even though i’d NEVER ever go back to who i was or what i had to do back then (2011-2012 was a bitch and i fucking hate her)...that was the first time i really felt like myself. like when i first found this website i really felt changed as a person. it was a place i felt seen, understood, where i could fully express myself even if no one heard me. and the life i lived back then was just...straight out of a stupid ya novel. with difficult classes and my friends inviting me to the occasional sleep over. i miss the stupid honors students who would always be so pretentious. i miss my german teacher who was annoying and loud but who always decorated her room with christmas lights during the winter months. i miss watching what i like about you reruns, honestly. and i miss flickr!!!! a lot! (i know it’s still around but it isn’t the same.) it’s just you never notice when you’re in something until you’re out of it. and then it’s over and all you can do is reflect on it and reminisce and wish you could go back. and even if history repeats itself, it never does so in the same way. like i can reread all my favorite books from ten years ago, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m in a different stage of life, that i can never go back to who i was the first time i experienced all that.

life is just so goddamn long.

i really do wonder what my life will be like looking back on this time in ten years. i wonder where i’ll be then thinking about where i am now. who i’ll be. who i am.

#personal

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