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gunkbaby · 28 days

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I turn 20 tomorrow so have is unedited, uncontrolled, self-pitying, semi-reflective waffle about my wasted teenage years and general misery (aita if i might be a little bit ageist?)

too long so it’s under the cut. This is my birthday gift to myself - I’m dreadfully self-absorbed and self-aware and i think it makes me better than everyone. No one will read this, but it’s for me. My relfection on my horrendous teenage self. Extreme moping. I miss when it was socially acceptable to waffle in self-pity on personal blogs. Gah. How gauche of me.

I’ve been thinking a lot abt the past recently. Especially as I’m abt to turn 20 (no longer a real teenage girl anymore). It sucks bc I really didn’t get to experience adolescence. I left school when i was 13, and an abusive parent meant I wasn’t able to really do anything outside of my home. No wonder I’m such a mess. I have so much anger. Anger of what was taken, what everyone else has, that I will never. I will never get this back. I will never go to prom. I will never know what a teenage party was like. I’ve been to about 3 sleepovers, all before I was 12. My teenage years were spent in hospital wards, doctor’s offices, arguing with my abuser, or in my room, desperately trying to educate myself on my own. I couldn’t socialise myself. No one tried. I had a roof over my head, but outside of the basic privilege of western living, I was kind of abandoned.

It’s kind of shocking to me that I’m 19, about to be 20. And I live alone, sure. I’m going to a great college, I’m about to go through the exams I should have done when I was 16 - that I have worked my ass off to get. I’m about to move up into a higher course, and after that, I’m likely going to university, and I’m going to study my dream degree - zoology/botany. I might be the person I had believed I would be when I was a child. I get to go horse riding every week - something my abuser actively leveraged against me. She leveraged my few social interactions against me. I get to come online everyday and express my love for the one thing that I have had for 8 years - almost a decade, and nearly almost half my freaking life - that I have clung to. That has actively kept me alive. I still remember that fourteen year old girl that was only living to buy the next manga volume, that only agreed to go to the eating disorder clinic because when she came home, the new episode would be out. Staying alive for something to take everything away for a little while.

I think of how I don’t remember being 15, because I had been addicted to alcohol for the past 2 years. How I woke up when Covid happened, but I barely remember that. It was bad when I was 16. I thought, so badly, that something would happen. I might get a little better. I tried recovering and lived with that placebo. I didn’t realise it then, but that was when things with my mother really started to go downhill.

I think of when I was 17, 18, and I first started to use the internet socially, finally started interacting with a fandom I’d lurked in for so long. I think of that girl, and I think of everything she did. Every dumb thing she did, the horrible ways she made people feel, the brazenly incorrect or callous things she said, so desperate to cling onto everything. How little she understood it. I think of her meltdowns, how quickly she’d end up in hospital over anything. I think about how desperate she was to fit in and how much she failed to understand that something like that had already passed for everyone else. Suddenly too old to be behaving how I was. I think about how things got back then.

I think about being so paranoid, I hid under my bed and didn’t eat for a week because I believed people were trying to kill me. I think about how often I’d run away from home. I remember I got lost in the woods once. It was November, and it got so dark, so fast. Hell, to my shock, I think my dumb 17 year old self blogged the fucking thing. I remember my mother had threatened me with hospitsalisation, and I had thrown my coat away, because it was bright yellow and I didn’t want her to follow me. It was so fucking cold. I had my Shuu plushie with me. I don’t think I’ve ever gripped something so hard. I walked for hours. I remember how scared I was. I wonder if I’ll ever not be that scared girl lost in woods. The next I ran away, it was in the middle of the city. I sat in my favourite park and I was scared, but I sat and looked at the city and everyone in it and I felt so calm.

My mother’s face when she tried to kill me. There’s this look people get, and I had never seen it before in my life. But I looked at her and I just sort of knew, you know? I remember pleading for my life, trying to force the car door open, begging her to just let me out. I remember she took me shopping afterwords, sat down and drank a coffee like everything was normal. I was having a panic attack, and she told me that I was being silly. She never said sorry. Recently I found out that she’d gone home and told people she’d ’thought everyone would be better off without us’. I think our relationship died that day, but I didn’t realise it until months later.

And then I think about how one day I decided that it was over. And I ‘chose’ to relapse and kill myself slowly and painfully, then ended up bulimic and more miserable than I have ever been. What a mess I have made of everything.

I am angry at that girl, for a lot of things, but more so, I think I feel sorry for her. In a cold sort of way, I view myself then distantly. I know she was hurting. She was scared and confused, . She was abused and didn’t understand it. She had a fucking personality disorder she didn’t even know the name of. She had a whole ass condition no one would even look at. I wish I could go back to that 17 year old. Part of me wants to shake her and ask why the fuck she’s posting dumb shit on the internet, how anyone could fucking justify how goddamn delusional she was being. But what would that solve - more of a ‘poor me’ narrative, no doubt. What I’ve done isn’t the worst thing anyone’s done, but you can’t escape that guilt, the way you made people feel, how fucking creepy you were - the things I did before I knew I had BPD. I’m not wise enough right now to offer that 17 year old any wisdom.

I can’t hate her. I compare myself to Shuu too much. But it helps sometimes. I forgive him for being unhinged, it’s harder to forgive myself, but I am nothing if not consistent. That girl isn’t all dead yet. She’s shrivelling, slowly, but I still act in ways to people I’m not proud of. I’m still ill.

I’ll still be ill in my twenties. Recovery is no longer the goal - living a life the sick mind can tolerate is. I’m not going to live as long as other people - not of my own accord, though that remains a possibility - people like me just don’t tend to make it that far. I can’t say the idea of old age is appealing. I find oldness detestable - call me ageist, but I am so sick of seeing old people who look like they should have already died. Sometimes you look into the eyes of an old woman, or she will speak to you in such a kind way, and you understand then that there is beauty in old age. I believe, perhaps controversially, that modern medicine might be working too well. We are meant to die, naturally. I think whilst it’s lovely that our grandparents might live to be 100, sometimes I look at old people and I consider than society has chosen quantity over quality. Some old people look at the world with this confusion. I read cosmic horror, it reminds me of that a bit. I feel bad for them, because my world is not theirs anymore. I see anger, confusion, and have the knowledge that these ancient people will never live long enough to come to terms with it. I see it and all I can think about is how, maybe, some people simply should not live to be 90. The body lives, but does the mind? Can our minds handle living so long?

Whatever. Back to me being self-important now.

I can say a million sorries to people I have hurt. To people I made feel uncomfortable. I can apologise for all I have said. For the hatred and negativity I have brought to people. I could say it a million, billion times, but sorry is just a word. I’ll never not feel ashamed of who I have been, I live with guilt in the hope that one day, I might manage myself well enough to not need to think of everything. I hope I make it so far.

I’m not going to be a beacon of mental health. But I’m about to get my basic qualifications, then more advanced, then university. I’m going to be a biologist. :)

Writing has come back to me, slowly, surely. So will drawing. Maybe soon, maybe later, I will have beautiful work and I might say ‘hey, that’s not bad, kid!’. I still have Shuu. He’s still here for me. He’s never not been. I will have him as long as I need him. Not a day goes by where I am not grateful for my oldest friend. Art has returned through my desire to celebrate him. He has saved me, once again.

I live alone, and I like it. I get to go horse riding every week - I love it, so much. My abuser is no longer near me. I have a father who tells me every day, how proud he is. I get to see my wonderful little dog once a month, and I have three beautiful guinea pigs. In the summer, I’ll study a botany diploma and I’m planning on volunteering at a local horse & donkey sanctuary. I’ve never had a job before, it’s never been possible, but maybe.

i guess, not all sunshine and rainbows. I still can’t order coffee or really speak to other human beings. I want to, but I can’t stand to be seen. I’ve never hated myself more than I do right now. Things online are still messy, because I made them so, and I continue to. I’m still ill. Still, maybe things are not as messy as I had once made them. My bulimia has never been this bad, and now is not the time to handle it. I’m fairly certain that my exam stress will end me in hospital. I am still, utterly alone, the mental health services don’t seem to care. But I’m about to start ADHD medication soon, which, maybe, would make some things easier. A lot of things.

I guess all this extended waffling is a form of self-comfort. I fancy myself a wonderful writer, can you tell? I think reflection is a healthy tonic, I’m unable to journal consistently, so forgive the long post about me and how interesting I am.

But. I’m going to be 20 tomorrow. I’m going to wake up tomorrow, and nothing will have changed at all. Except I’m no longer a teenager, and it’s never going to happen for me. I’ve lost it. Forever. And my heart is breaking.

It’s so funny. I spent so long wishing I was 20. 24 especially has always sounded like such a cool age. And 22, and 28 - how I love the 2x tables. But now, I’m scared. Because I haven’t had what I should’ve. Being a teenager wasn’t cool, I thought it would be. Maybe then, the conclusion to all this is simple: being a teenager isn’t something I should miss. So I didn’t grow up normally. So far removed from everything. But I don’t think growing up ever stops. When it does, then you become one of those old people - waiting, confused and angry by a cosmically different world that no longer has use for you.

So maybe being 20 will be okay. Maybe adolescence comes later for me. I last had a birthday party when I was 12 - I bought a Tokyo Ghoul DVD, root A, to my utter shame. But, maybe I can have a 21st birthday party. Maybe I can be who I wanted to be when I was a teenager, but a little more wizened. Maybe growing up like this has been a good thing. I’m starting to go out into the world, and I have a backlog of teenage fuckups separate from teenage joy - maybe that joy will come in my 20s. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

There are flowers in my home. If flowers bloom, then things are never that bad. I think.

#This is shockingly shit idc #I am free wafflinf #No one read this #Or do #idc #im cringe and arrogant and horrendously gauche #Sue me #I have 24 hours of 19 left. Let me make a final act of cringe!#Hehe #longwinded waffle #Extremely bad writing #Sue me!#I am. So tired.#i need to go study #sorry #consider this a journal entry #I’m not even reading this even i don’t gaf #Watch me delete when i wake up

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hithertoundreamtof23 · 1 month

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It's finals week, so I'm gonna die. Anyway... here are some butterfly pics/ vids from where I live:

#I did this last year so I guess it's a tradition?#I need to go study #erghhhh #finals #exam season #butterflies #personal #about me #nature photography #my photography #nature #beautiful nature

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venn-ila-ve · 4 months

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someone please shout at me

#i need to go study #boards in 4 days and i have not done anything concrete #its good that hindi is first honestly #bye

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spiffingbeansoup · 1 month

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guys help my girlfriend’s fallen asleep holding my hand how do I escaps

#good problem to have #nonetheless #i need to go study #my rambles

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azuneekun · 2 months

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MY EGG ???????????????????????????

#stardew valley #stardew valley alex #alex stardew valley #stardew alex #alex stardew #sdv alex #alex sdv #sv alex #alex sv #stardew #sdv #sv #my art #sdv farmer #stardew valley farmer #WHYD HE FUCKNIG EAT M EGG LIEKT HAT WHATS WROMNG WITH HIM?????I SCREAMED #nvm i need to study him in an enclosure behind the bushes #also i havent drawn a comic in so long. sorry im so rusty i gave up so i can go back playing stardew sorry

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 8 months

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going through my old journals as part of therapy homework and i'm reading a section written in the emotional wreckage of a full-on breakdown when i get hit with this line:

There is never a satisfying answer to ‘Why didn’t they love me?’

like wow babe. good fucking point

#like you were on the ground biting the carpet and dry sobbing while you wrote that and still. good fucking point #not a shitpost #cptsd #and it's true. there's never a satisfying answer #the truth is i know why i wasn't loved #i analyzed my parent's traumas and abuse to death. i understand why i alienated and was alienated from my siblings #i know why my mom was too overwhelmed to be capable of nurturing #i know why my dad vanished into addiction and avoidance #the details of our cycles of trauma and cptsd and family history i have a phd in all of it #i understood perfectly. i spent years studying and now i knew the answer #and guess what? IT WAS NOT SATISFYING!!!#because they still didn't love me! and i still couldn't change that!#it was still a completely unsatisfying state of affairs!#so like. when the people who are supposed to love you...don't.#when the people who are supposed to take care of you...fail to #you can look for answers and reasons and explanations #but that's not actually going to FIX your situation.#and it's probably not within your ability TO fix the situation. (and definitely not your job)#because you don't need answers--you need a new situation #*inserts Just Walk Out. You Can Leave!!! (Running Skeleton) Meme*#and yes. walking out isn't always possible.#but for you i hope it will be one day soon. and i hope you build the courage to take that leap.#stepping away from the people who failed to love you...it feels like being untethered but also like being lighter than air #new and scary. immensely relieving. the future opens up. empty but empty like a canvas. blindingly bright until your eyes adjust #like climbing out of a pit you called home and for the first time realizing how bright the light of day can truly be #when you aren't just getting glimpses from the bottom of a hole

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vampireposter · 4 months

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meeting wyll at the grove, as someone who the tieflings trust enough to train their children, says so much about him. it's so sad that he doesn't get explored in acts 2-3 as deeply as the other companions, when his problems are equally intense. the average player probably long rests once before coming across the grove, but even if not, in that time wyll has already proven to the tieflings that they can rely on the Blade of Frontiers.

this is the immediate first thing he chooses to do after being condemned to slow death via ceremorphosis. his priority list in the first conversations with tav is: 1) hunt down a dangerous devil, 2) help zevlor with the goblins, 3) once nothing threatens the tieflings he will gladly search for a tadpole cure. wyll is perpetually his own last priority, and i wonder if it has to do with the lore about souls.

if he believes mind flayers' souls have been destroyed, and fiend warlocks will all have their souls sent to the hells after death, then becoming a mind flayer isn't the worst possible way for him to die. he would never become a mindless monster to save his own soul, but he's not gripped by horror the way that some of the other origin characters are. lae'zel has been made revoltingly impure to her people, astarion is terrified of losing the scrap of bodily autonomy he just regained, gale is guilt-ridden over the orb detonation if he dies, shadowheart has to survive to prove herself to her cult leader, and karlach has also just regained bodily autonomy and is desparate to live.

this is just another quest for the Blade, whose persona guards wyll ravengard against the vice of self-concern when he ought to be concerned for those in need.

#wyll ravengard #bg3 #writing a wyll pov thing in order to roleplay harder in my durge playthrough & ive become obsessed w him #i love him so much. he doesnt even really get to realize in-game how traumatized he is and in act 3 he has not healed any really #come here wyll we are going to learn about self care. you & durge need to overcome the desire to give up your lives for your fathers ideals #faerun doesnt have LMHCs so wyll gets my durge who currently thinks he is (a miserable failure of) a cleric of ilmater.#this fic is practice for my 'ascended tavastarion struggle to quit being Like That' character study thing wherein i am struggling w dialogu #loving working on both. im in my little dollhouse making my toys try out lines until they fit #vampireposted

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daisy-mooon · 7 months

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Behind the jokes and badassness, Captain Marvel is a fascinating character to me, because of how death follows her.

She causes an explosion. That explosion, which gives her powers and her immortality, canonically kills her. The Kree Empire resurrects her and makes her as Kree as they can. She shares Yon-Rogg's blood and his life, she's his creation, she's his victim, she's the one who causes his downfall, she's the one that destroys the system, the society, the planet that allowed her to be abused.

It's the Kree that see her as a killer and Annihilator. She's a monster of their own making, but it influences every species and planet she touches. Her victories cause death and her mistakes cause more death. Carol's triumph, the death of the Supreme Intelligence, results in the death of probably millions of Kree, and by consequence, almost causes the death of Hala's star.

"I'm only human" Carol says, before killing the Empire that is the reason that she can't ever be human again.

"We'll be back for the weapon," Ronan says, but that weapon will kill everything he stands for.

"Your life began the day it nearly ended," The Supreme Intelligence says, coldly, calculatingly. It's an AI. It doesn't have a good concept of death. It doesn't fully grasp that Carol had genuinely been killed that day, because she's still in front of it. Carol kills it.

"Death seems to follow you," Dar-Benn says, before she causes an explosion with the bangles, trying to defeat Carol. The explosion kills Dar-Benn.

Death follows Carol. Death follows Carol! Mar-Vell is dead. Maria is dead. Talos is dead. Soren is dead. Ronan is dead. Minn-Erva is dead. Korath is dead. Dar-Benn is dead. Yon-Rogg is, probably, dead. The Supreme Intelligence is dead. Natasha is dead. Tony is dead.

The only people in Carol's life who aren't dead are Kamala, Monica, Yan, Valkyrie, and Fury.

She watches helplessly as Dar-Benn almost murders Kamala after Kamala tries to save Dar-Benn's life, tries to find a way to solve the violence without death.

She watches helplessly as Monica gets torn into another reality, which for all she knows, she could die in. The tear in reality that was caused by Dar-Benn's death.

She tries to hide Yan's existence from her friends and tries to warn him and his people. The Kree soldiers aren't fighting to maim, they're fighting to kill. He escapes death by his own fighting skills and the fact that the Kree would rather focus on killing Carol than him.

Valkyrie and Carol interact once, and she only calls when she needs help after a fight, not during. Think about it. Valkyrie and the Bifrost could have helped the trio enormously. But Carol doesn't call until the fights are over. It would be very easy for a regular Asgardian warrior to die compared to superhumans.

And Fury... have you seen how often Fury comes close to dying? He's alive from skill and luck. He is lucky that he isn't dead.

Captain Marvel is so, so fascinating. Her story begins with her own death, and the more it goes on, the more death happens around her. Nobody is safe. She causes almost all of them, even the ones of her friends - not directly, but through the consequences of her actions. The consequences of her victories and mistakes. The consequences of her anger and revenge, her power and powerlessness. It is caused by both the Human and Kree sides of her, by both Carol and Vers, Captain Marvel and the Annihilator.

Carol is immortal. She can't die. And death follows her anyway.

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