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blarghsandblurbs · 1 year

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Why am I so predisposed to depression

Why can’t I learn my lesson

It took every fiber of myself to break codependent reactions and it felt like torture and it’s so fucked

Because people are human and get scared and run, not because my love is so pure but because

But why when you chase me and then sex doesn’t make it mean a damn thing

And it’s not like I haven’t learned that lesson

This time at least I can back off of the severe dependence

Because my identity is based off other’s validation

And I’m too burnt out to be sustained by grateful recognition

And it such a sad existence

And after I fought through hell to get myself back

I return to bad habits to find myself

And like I am emotionally crippled

I easily wipe out

And all I can do is sob

There’s nothing left to talk about

And when someone said it like I never learned how to be an adult

It was true

Like stuck at sixteen forever

Never planning to live on for much longer

And everything I feel is like every other time

And I refuse to blame you

But I know if I’m unsettled something isn’t adding up

And I’m the problem

Because I’m so cringey and needy

And traumatized begging for someone to love me

If not just leave me alone

Begging

Please stop haunting

And maybe if I had picked up the phone

And maybe if I had taken pills

Either way I wouldn’t be alone

Why does it feel so alone when?

In one day everyone texted me like

“Checking in”

“Are you okay?”

And why does that pit feel like solitary

And I can’t go back again

I can’t go back there again

And with all the trauma pouring out of me

Like a weight on my chest with no relief

And I remember every bad thing

And there’s the puking

I believe at the end somewhere there is relief

I have to

I have seen i can make progress

But I feel like a delicate fucking flower

And if so, so be it

I act so strong and have to be so tender

When every piece of me is quivering

And I remember I’m an sinner

And I have to accept that

And for once the guilt isn’t eating me alive to the point I want to die

But it’s just a stupid amount of grief I don’t know how to heal

I guess it’s okay if it takes years

As long as I can get there

Even now here is better than where

I was before

So even when I’m not okay

I know I will be

Because it’s not nearly how it used to be

But all those old feelings

Sarcastic cynicism and mockery

And I remember having to defend myself

And I just recall the laughter at the most insane situations

And maybe we were all monsters

And I always recall

We become the monsters we were dealt in order to survive

And the best must become better

And muster up something in me every step to push myself farther

Softer, compassionate downtrodden and tired

And I remember sitting in the seat

In the garage

Some Slut thinking I was wrong

And there’s all the “wrong”

I’m so deeply angry about what was done

To the point of apathetic because to care

Is just too much

But I soothe and cradle myself into oblivion

And it’s okay

Because I’m here to stay

And eventually it will go away

“If I could tell someone something

It would be

That it does end”

Joy, you were right

Why was my best friend at that time

Some lady cooking meals at Publix

And why are my memories so blurry

I can’t recall

Just like my mother

I got it all along

And if we can’t even exist in our own minds

What is this life

If led by delusion

One step at a time

I roar at myself to see truth

And every wound beneath desperation

And where it all comes from

Don’t leave me behind

Every person I loved I begged

Don’t leave me

Until I saw I had already been abandoned all along

Who can live like that for long

Some people choose that life all lifelong

And in my life

I wanted people to see they were free

Open their cages

And show them their destiny

Where I stayed bound inside my prison

By choice

And not a word spoken

Brought relief anymore

The things I spoke

Lost meaning

I wanted to hide inside the shell of me

Somewhere I blossom into a woman

Who wants better things

And if it is to release pieces of me that don’t serve

I lovingly release that to the wind

Be free

I ask of you gently

It’s the kindest thing I can do for you

In solidarity

We touch

I kiss your cheek

Please just breathe

I’m allowed to wish for a better life

And believe things can work out beautifully

I won’t put all my damage on them

What was it she said?

“I was never the person to want to do that to them”

But when I look at myself honestly

I’m no better

And when I can cradle a grown alcoholic man in my arms while he cries

Because of abuse he endured when he was 5

And the tears I can shed

And that he said it was like a light

What is it in me that you find

It’s somewhere inside of me

It’s probably just the simplicity of love

And it’s untrained in some piece of me

I became a braggart and hypocrite and liar

And everything I never wanted to be

Who am I to claim to be

Anything better or worse than anything

And while I forgive every trespass and every dirty secret and every shame

I still refuse to uncover this side of me

So tortured and still in such pain

I’ll look at it

Abba won’t let anyone see

But that’s not true

I can hear every piece of me weeping

And maybe it is wrong

And maybe it is right

But what I need

Is the ability to control

What is inside of me not leaking into the world

I don’t want to hurt anyone

That much I know

And stepping forward

I’ll do my best

To right my wrongs

Until I breathe no more

#Spotify

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harrypotterwholock · 4 years

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Chapter 1: Actio Reactio

Summary:

When Angie comes back to Hogwarts this year, she is faced with her darkest demons. Only one teacher notices her pain: her defense against the dark arts professor Remus Lupin. While he helps her to come to terms with her mental health, the two grow closer together and their relationship becomes more intimate. Will she be able to fight her demons with the help of Professor Lupin or lose herself in the darkness?

Trigger warning for self harm.

Angie felt instant relief when she finally pulled the cold, sharp blade over her pale wrist. Hypnotized by the pain that made her feel for the first time in days, she cut deeper and deeper without noticing the stream of blood running down her white blouse. She was sitting in the back cabin of the girls' toilet, hoping that the moaning myrtle wouldn't notice her.

Minutes earlier, she had rushed out of the transfiguration classroom, struggling to keep herself from bursting into tears in front of her classmates. Not that they would care about it, most of her friends had turned away from Angie a long time ago.

Angie didn't want to be seen alone, so she usually spent the time between breaks in a girls' toilet or under a tree in the meadows around Hogwarts, where no one could find her. The other girls from her house mostly scoffed at her when she passed them, and did not make an effort to hide their dislike for her.

Angie had always been a bit of an outsider, but at least she had two friends. A few months ago, however, the two had conspired against her and now she felt more lonely than ever.

Professor McGonagall had passed out the exam last week and Angie had done unusually poorly. When Professor McGonagall put the test on her table, she said to Angie: "I really can't understand what has been going on with you lately, you no longer work in class and the other teachers also tell me that your performance has dropped significantly. If you don't start trying again, Mrs. Woods, you won't be able to keep your average. I strongly advise you to put more emphasis on your grades from now on, rather than spending your free time reading in the school yard "

The words had brought tears to Angie's eyes. If only Professor McGonagall had known that Angie would never allow herself to read a book for entertainment because she was far too afraid that her grades could drop. If she was reading a book, it was most definitely a textbook, but she just couldn't focus on the words. The letters blurred before her eyes and her thoughts got caught in her worries. The pressure to perform had turned her into a wreck. Angie was rarely able to concentrate on a certain thing, too often she lost herself in an apathetic state from which she could only be freed by repetitive addressing.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. Time had gone excruciatingly slowly, and Angie had had difficulty holding back the tears that welled up inside her. "My parents will think I'm a failure. How can I tell them, I'll never be able to look them in the eye again!" In her head she already heard the howler that she would soon receive at the breakfast table: "Young lady, what are you thinking, telling your parents about such bad grades! What should become of you if you do not score outstanding, our daughter is made for better. Ensure that your grades improve quickly, otherwise we will have to have a serious talk with you! " Angie had tried desperately not to let her eyes wander out of the window. Professor McGonagall had apparently decided to bring Angies attention back to class and called on her every other question.

After another endless 50 minutes, the bell had finally released Angie from her tension. As quickly as she could, she had gathered up all of her books and hurried out of the classroom. When she looked back at the door, Professor McGonagall had watched her with a disappointed look.

She felt her eyes go black. Panicking, she tried to press her black sweater against her bleeding wounds to stop the bleeding. Several curses crept over her lips when she noticed how much blood had got on her clothes. Most of her uniform was black, but her white blouse was dripping with blood. "How could I lose control so far? I have to burn my blouse, otherwise a girl from the dorm might discover that I'm cutting myself."

Angie tried to wipe as much blood as possible from her clothes and the floor and washed down the red colored toilet paper. Then she unlocked the cabin and went to the sink. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face looked strangely puffy. As terrible as she looked, she felt alive for the first time that day. Most days of the week passed uneventfully. With horror she had noticed that events or statements by other students that would devastate other people did not stir her any more. Even when her best friends Sophie and Lauren turned away from her, she couldn't manage to shed a tear. She felt like an empty wreck, unable to be happy. It was like being accompanied by a dementor day and night. But at that moment she felt like herself again, felt her body and could think clearly again. The water from the taps at Hogwarts was freezing cold, but in this situation it was just right for Angie. She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, tried to straighten her hair, which she had previously desperately ruffled, and pulled on her black sweater to cover up her bloody blouse.

She peeked carefully out into the hallway. To her great relief, it was completely abandoned. It was better if nobody saw her in this state, as it was already getting late and the teachers didn't like to see students sneaking around in the corridors late at night. Just as she turned the corner, the door to Professor Lupin's classroom opened. "Just greet him as usual, he probably won't notice your condition at all if you keep calm!" She thought. When she approached him, she tried to keep the distance between her and Lupin as big as possible and put on a fake smile.

"Good evening Professor Lupin!" "Good evening Mrs. Woods! ... are you okay? You look pretty ... exhausted." "Damn, do I really have to run into him, couldn't it be Professor Snape who is only interested in his Slytherins?" She thought. "Don't worry Professor, Ι worked on an essay for Professor Snape until late at night, he once again gave us an exaggerated number of parchment scrolls. I'm just a little tired, but if I catch up on sleep tonight, it will have subsided until the morning" "But it rather looks like you cried. Are you sure you are just tired? If you have a problem or just need to speak to someone, you can come to me at any time. You know where you can find me. " "Thanks for the offer Professor, but it really is not necessary. I am very well." "Well, if you think that everything is fine ... I would still be more comfortable if I accompany you to your common room." "Really, everything is fine Professor Lupin! But if it is so important to you, you can come with me." Fortunately for Angie, the way to the Ravenclaw Tower was short and Professor Lupin made no further attempt to ask her why she was feeling unwell. When they got to the top of the tower, Angie said: "Thank you for your company, even if it really wasn't necessary. Good night professor!" "Good night Angie, have a good rest!" Professor Lupin gave her one last concerned look, turned away, and headed back to his classroom. Angie started up the stairs and felt tears gathering in her eyes again. "I have been hiding my problems for so long and it is precisely because of this one exam that I am discovered! And then of all things by Professor Lupin, the over-caring teacher. He will not let me out of sight any time soon ... I have to be more careful than before, to prevent him from also discovering my cuts!"

When she got to the magical knocker, it took her a long time to decipher the riddle, she was too distraught from the encounter with the emphatic professor. It was a long time ago that someone really saw her and worried about her. Now late at night, the fire in the fireplace in the common room was faint. The girls in her dormitory were already asleep, and in the darkness she hid her bloody blouse in the far corner of her chest. Angie lay exhausted in her bed and closed her curtains. For a long time she thought about the events of the evening and considered how she should behave in front of Professor Lupin the next day so as not to further catch his attention. When she finally started sliding into sleep, she saw the room light up from the rising sun.

#fanfic #fanfiction #remus #remus lupin #remus x student #professor lupin #angst #hogwarts #harry potter #remus angst #remus imagine #original character #harrypotterfanfic #harrypotterfanfiction #remuslupinfanfiction #hogwarts student #harry potter fanfiction #imagine

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kuroosdumbslut · 4 years

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Intrulogical: Emotional Turmoil and Exhaustion

*this is purly a self indulgent fic, i like hurt/comfort and yeah. its long and tw for cussing and mild gore/blood*

It was a fairly calm day for everyone. Thomas must have completed his more necessary tasks for the day and is experiencing some down time, seeing as Patton was trying to keep Virgil and Roman from fighting over Monopoly. Janus was seated at the table with a glass of wine, or “soup” as he liked to call it, and Remus was... shockingly not around at all.

Logan observed a few seconds longer before sinking out and into his room, picking up an astronomy book and settling himself down in the nearby chair (smartly placed next to his bookshelf so he could have his own cozy little reading nook). Apparently it wasn’t 100% Logan’s day to relax because a few minutes later, a soft knock brought his attention away.

Getting up to see who it was, Logan was surprised to see Remus, of all sides, stabding on the other side. Logan noted that Remus was almost... curling in on himself, as if trying to hide himself from, well, everything. “Remus. Would you, ah, like to come in? I can conjure a chair for you.” Another chair was conjured, appearing next to Logan’s chair in his reading area. Remus wordlessly nodded and walked in, eerily quiet as he sat in the conjured chair and once again curling in on himself. With a wave of the hanf, Logan’s door shut and, just in case, put a little “do not disturb” on the outside of his door to make sure the others wouldn’t interrupt.

Logan took a seat and studied Remus for a second before addressing him. Remus was quiet, the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past who knows how long. His clothes were wrinkled and almost seemed as if the color of said clothing was faded to match the owner’s mood. “Remus, is everything alright? You seem... depressed.” Remus let out a dull laugh. “You could say that, yeah. Quite observative aren’t ya, teach?” The normally playful and somewhat demented tone that was usually present was all but an apathetic, monotonous replica. “Logan, do you hate me?”

The logical side frowned slightly. “Well, while you often rouse the others with your antics, you aren’t a bother to me. I have no reason to hate you, Remus.” Remus nodded, staying silent. “I...I am not the best at- at expressing or understanding emotions like the others, but I have a feeling you aren’t telling me...the main reason you feel depressed.” Remus nodded again, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “I just, I know it’s great and all the Janus got accepted by you guys. And I’ve never seen Virgil actually be as happy and relaxed as he is with you guys. I really am glad they’re happy but-“

Remus cut himself off as a sob tried to escape his throat, and he desperately tried to hide the tears, but it was too late. “I hate being the bad creativity, and don’t you fucking dare try to say there’s no such thing! Clearly, from how Patton tried to busy himself or how Virgil will put his headphones on or how- how my own fucking brother just scoffs when he sees me! Even Janus seems like he wants to ignore and get away from me!”

Logan silently watched as the “darker” creativity slowly broke down more and more. Logan discreetly waved his hand to dim the lights to a calmer setting, locking his door completey and soundproofing his room for good measure. “I-I can’t give excuses for the others actions towards you, and I know my words most likely won’t help as much as I wish they could, but my door is always open for you. I may not know the feeling, but I can imagine, and visibly see, the hurt that you feel from being...disregarded by people you were both close with and considered family. You are important to Thomas and everyone else, whether they realize it or not.” Remus looked at Logan both as if he was insane and as if he was some sort of savior. Logan felt his chest ache, sad to see Remus is such an emotionally vulnerable state and broke himself. Not by crying, but Logan did scramble to get up and wrap the other in a hug, squeezing Remus reassuringly.

Logan held Remus for a bit before he released his hold of the green side. “If you need to, I have soundproofed my room so if you need or want to scream out your feelings, you can.” Logan could almost see the build up of Remus screaming, but he hadn’t expected his scream to come out so... pained. By the volume and fresh tears that poured from Remus, it seemed like it was several years worth of emotional turmoil was being released.

When it got quiet again, Logan crouched by the crumpled from of Remus on the ground and gently got him up, helping him to lay on the bed. Remus looked oike he was going to object, but Logan shook his head. Remus got comfortable in the bed, feeling as if he just went on a rampage through his part of the imagination but with less adrenaline rush and much, much less blood than he would have had. Hell, Remus couldn’t even think at all due to the exhaustion.

“Get some rest, you need it after experiencing such intense emotional stress. I’ll have a talk with everyone else as well and get you a room on our side. You are just as important as everyone else here and I am ashamed that we made you think you aren’t.” Logan took a breath and sat on the edge of the bed where Remus laid, exhausted but listening to every word he said. “I...again, I dont want to speak for anyone, but Patton has been talking with Janus, asking how to interact with you better. Janus has only been ignoring, or seemingly ignoring you, because Patton drags his off to try and get “emergency advice”. Virgil...I think he’s still processing everything. I’m sure you’re aware of how Virgil can get overwhelmed easily, and he uses his headphones to calm himself down. And... and Roman does actually care, even if he acts like he’s inconvenienced when you’re around. Roman is still trying to... to better himself. He knows how shitty he’s been to you, and to Janus and Virgil, and he’s still trying to figure out some way to remedy that, in his own flamboyant way, of course.” Remus snorted softly at that.

“Don’t be surprised if he’s made an entire musical to show his remorse to you,” Logan joked. “But, in all seriousness, I know I probably am not the most welcoming side either. I probably seem cold, seeing as I usually have some book I’m lost in or constantly making and remaking schedules. And if not that, I’m irritable due to lack of sleep. I apologize if I ever made it seem like you are unwelcomed.” Remus sleepily reached out and poked at Logan’s butt. “Specs- no, Logan, I forgive you. And I appreciate you explaining what’s going on behind the scenes. Butttt seeing as you just admitted to not getting enough sleep, I demand you come here and nap with me.” Logan chuckled, but could definitely feel exhaustion creeping up on him. Being emotionally vulnerable and trying to help someone in distress is tiring, but Logan couldn’t seem to mind. He’d rather help out Remus that continue reading. Besides, it’s a lazy day and there’s no harm in napping.

Logan laid down next to Remus, actively reaching out and bringing the other half of creativity closer. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was just them deciding now or never, but they shared a small, sleeply peck, cuddling up as they fell asleep. The two idly noted to speak about their relationship regarding each other later, when both are rested and ready, but for now they slipped into unconsciousness and let their “future selves” deal with it.

#intrulogical #ts logan #ts remus #remus sanders #logan x remus #logan sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic

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cerezsis · 5 years

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Isn’t That Lovely?

Human AU

Summary: Spinel thinks she and Piper Damon are best friends. Piper hangs out with her because she has to. The two are separated when Piper’s dream of owning her own branch of the family business comes true, but Spinel is sure their friendship can survive the distance. Unfortunately, their friendship isn’t the only thing she’ll watch go up in flames.

WARNING: This story depicts severe mental illness, and the death of loved ones. Tread cautiously if you are bothered by either of those subjects.

“Say hello to your new friend, Piper,” the white-haired woman said, her hands planted firmly on her daughter’s shoulders.

The ten-year-old looked her new “friend” up and down. Spinel, the three-year-old girl who was already bouncing in excitement, wore tight pigtails, pink shorts, and a white shirt with a juice stain on the collar. Piper gave her best friendly smile. She supposed she should be happy that she wouldn’t have to spend the day alone in the estate or stuck coloring in the corner of an office, but it didn’t stop the dread brewing in her stomach.

“Hello,” Piper greeted.

The toddler ran up and gave her a tight hug. Piper hugged back, trying hard not to think about how sticky the younger girl’s hands felt against the back of her shirt.

“I’m so excited to play with you!” Spinel said, eagerly.

“Well, I certainly won’t keep you two waiting,” Winona said, lifting her hands from Piper’s shoulders, “I’ll pick you up around dinner time, Starlight.”

Piper managed a grin at her mother. “Ok, mom.”

Piper followed Spinel and Mrs. Desjardins out of the office building. She buckled herself in next to Spinel’s car seat, and stared out the window as the younger girl sang along to the children’s music CD that automatically started playing when Mrs. Desjardins started the car. As her head rested against the warm glass, she wondered why her mother couldn’t have had any employees with kids her own age.

The drive to the Desjardins residence wasn’t long, and Piper had to admit the house was beautiful. The paneling was painted a lovely cream color, and beautiful vines of pink flowers surrounded the black shutters. The bushes underneath the windows also sported flowers, and looked to be freshly trimmed. It was clear that the family took pride in their home’s appearance.

“Come on!” Spinel said, happily grabbing onto Piper’s hand, “I’ll show you my playhouse!”

Piper could hear Spinel’s mother chuckle as the little girl led her to the backyard. Passed the ivy-draped wooden fence, the backyard was full of even more flowers than the front. In the center of the many flowerbeds sat a brightly painted wooden swing set with an attached playhouse. Still holding onto her new friend’s hand, Spinel brought Piper into the playhouse, the older girl having to crouch down to fit through the toddler-sized doorway.

“Ta-da!” Spinel said, finally releasing her sticky hand from Piper’s to raise her arms in presentation, “Welcome to my playhouse!”

Still unable to stand up straight, Piper managed a smile. There was barely even enough room for the two of them to be in there together. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Spinel tapped her finger on her chin, thinking through her options carefully. Her eyes widened with joy when the perfect game came to mind.

“Oh! Oh! Let’s play tag!” She tapped the older girl on the shoulder. “You’re it!”

Despite the cramped space, she managed to run out the door with ease, giggling in anticipation of the chase. Quietly wondering how long it was until dinner time, Piper put on her best game face and chased after Spinel.

The girls played in the yard until Mrs. Desjardins called them in for lunch. As she ate her tater tots, Piper hoped Spinel was tired enough to want to watch TV or play with dolls, but once their plates were cleared, she insisted on a game of hide and seek in the backyard. Putting on another smile, Piper agreed to Spinel’s games.

Mr. Desjardins came home from the office shortly after Mrs. Desjardins got started on dinner. He came with the message that Piper’s mother would be late picking her up, and that she was to have dinner with them. Piper wondered to herself why she expected anything different from her mother. The Desjardins were happy to set her a place at the dinner table, and she thanked them when they handed her a plate of spaghetti. While the grownups chatted, Piper quietly winced as Spinel made a mess of her spaghetti dinner, getting sauce all over her face and shirt. Twirling spaghetti around her fork, Piper wondered if her sisters were having takeout again.

By the time her mother came to collect her, it was almost nine o’clock. Winona gave the Desjardins an obligatory apology for being so late – something about backorders and a wrong color – but they assured her that it was fine, and Piper was a pleasure. As the adults took their time with their departure, Piper had her eyes locked on the door. Spinel, now dressed in her Micky Mouse pajamas, held tightly onto her hand, telling her that if she hid in her room, her mother wouldn’t be able to find her, and she wouldn’t have to go home. When Winona finally decided it was time to leave, Spinel threw herself onto the ground.

“I don’t want her to go!” she cried.

After a few minutes of Spinel crying for Piper to stay, the situation had to be resolved by Mr. Desjardins carrying Spinel up to her room. A final goodbye to Mrs. Desjardins, and Winona and Piper were finally in the car, driving back to the estate.

“Mrs. Desjardins told me about all the fun you had with Spinel today,” Winona said, her eyes on the road.

“Yeah…” Piper said, leaning tiredly against the car door, “She’s… nice.”

“Good, good,” Winona grinned, clearly not taking notice of her daughter’s apathetic tone, “I’ve arranged for you to play with her every weekday for the rest of the summer. Your sisters and I will take turns dropping you off and picking you up.”

Piper stopped listening, and sank back into her seat. She stared out the window, watching the streetlights zoom by. All she could think about was Spinel’s sticky hands.

It had been five years since Spinel and Piper’s first playdate. Autumn leaves danced in the window as Piper sat on the edge of the child-sized bed, venting about her latest fight with her mom and sisters. Spinel laid on her stomach, her head resting in her hands, and her legs kicking back and forth. The eight-year-old listened attentively to her cool, older friend, occasionally giving a nod in sympathy. Being so much younger, she couldn’t always relate to her problems, but she was still always there to listen. That’s what friends were for, after all.

This week’s fight was once again about Piper’s role in the family’s business. Piper was on her usual rant about how Yvonne and Beatrix had their own branches when they were her age, and how it wasn’t fair that all she had was a few jewelry lines.

“They treat me like a kid,” Piper complained, “How would they even know how responsible I am? I could handle running a business just fine. They never have any faith in me.”

Spinel nodded. “You’d be the best boss ever! I bet when you finally get your branch, it’ll be the best branch they’ve ever seen!”

Piper gave a half-smile. At least someone believed in her.

A light ding came from the other side of the room. Spinel perked up.

“Oh, the brownies are ready!” She got up and hurried to her Easy Bake Oven. “Here Piper, you can have the first one. Brownies make everything better.”

“Thanks Spinel,” Piper said, still giving her a reserved smile, “I love brownies.”

Spinel would never forget the look of excitement on Piper’s face when she gave her the news. At nineteen years old, she was finally getting her own branch of Damon’s Diamonds. Spinel couldn’t have been happier for her friend.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could’ve been happier if she could follow her to Maine, where her first warehouse and manufacturing plant would be located, but, as her parents reminded her, seventh grade came first.

She wrote to Piper every day. Piper wrote back once every few months. It was ok. Running a business was a lot of work, especially when you have a group of anti-corporate protesters thwarting the process. Spinel would wait as long as it would take. She knew her best friend wouldn’t forget her.

The summer before tenth grade, Spinel woke up to find both her parents in the kitchen. She knew something was wrong before she even saw their pink, puffy eyes. Daddy was never home this late in the morning.

They broke the news to her as gently as possible. A fire had started in the on-site warehouse at Piper’s factory. It spread quickly to the main building, too quickly for Piper to escape her office. The fire took her life.

Spinel shook her head. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. Piper couldn’t be dead; she just couldn’t be!

She spent most of the day sitting on the couch, staring into space. News came in in bits and pieces. Dry foliage. Smoke bombs. Lacks fire regulations. Chemicals not stored properly. All came together to form a perfect storm of chaos.

At least a dozen people died in the blaze. Many more were injured. The number of casualties were still rising. Rose Quintin, the leader of the anti-corporate protesters, was thought to be responsible, but there wasn’t enough evidence for an arrest. Her current whereabouts were unknown.

It was hours before Spinel finally cried. Her best friend was gone, her life cut short in one of the worst ways possible. Piper was dead.

Piper was dead…

Nearly Halloween that same year, daddy’s test results came back. Stage four lung cancer. Daddy didn’t make it to Christmas.

A week after New Year’s, Spinel was called down to the principal’s office. A police officer was waiting for her. A car hit mommy as she was crossing the street. The car sped away. Mommy died in the ambulance.

Eleventh grade didn’t last long. Spinel got expelled for repeated aggressive behavior. Once kicked out of school, she no longer had a reason to leave the house. The mortgage had been paid off long ago. Inheritance and life insurance payouts were enough for her to survive indefinitely. Groceries were delivered to the house every Tuesday. The farthest she ever ventured was to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

No one ever checked on her.

She hadn’t remembered her twenty-seventh birthday until nearly a week had passed. Time always seemed to escape her like that.

Today was what she considered a good day; the only thing she felt was hallow. It was a step up from anger or sadness, and way better than the crash that followed mania. Hallow was safe. Hallow was good.

Sitting on the old, rickety swing set, Spinel looked around the yard. The once beautiful landscape was now overrun weeds and overgrowth. Almost all the flowers were brown and shriveled. The ivy that mommy planted had completely taken over the fence and was creeping onto the graying exterior walls of the house.

Without even thinking, Spinel stood up and wandered back into the house. A fine layer of dust coated every surface, as if no one had lived there for years. Glancing at the overflowing sink of dirty dishes, she struggled to remember if she’d eaten today. She didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d have to force something down the next time she remembered.

Continuing through her untouched time capsule of a house, she let herself wander up the stairs. Her bedroom door had broken off during one of her fits a few years ago, now permanently propped up against the adjacent wall. The upstairs bathroom hadn’t been usable in five years. She found herself entering the master bedroom, formerly her parents’ room, and let herself fall onto the unmade bed. She wrapped herself in the old sheets and tried to fall asleep.

It was three in the afternoon.

Forty-three. She was forty-three years old. Had it not been for the date and time in the corner of the morning news program, she wouldn’t know what day it was. She didn’t usually watch this channel, but it had been airing a marathon of old cartoons two days ago. For some reason, the old back and white cartoons made her feel a sort of calm. She couldn’t be bothered to change the channel after it ended.

She wasn’t really paying attention to the TV anymore, just lying on the couch and looking out the window. The neighborhood children were making their way to the bus stop, occasionally stopping in front of her house to talk and pint. If it weren’t for the glow of the TV through the otherwise dark window, they probably would’ve thought the place was abandoned.

Something on the TV made Spinel perk up. A morning talk show she missed the name of was starting, and the host was welcoming on that day’s guests. It was the Damon family.

Spinel sat up straight, her eyes glued to the TV. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw all three of the Damon women together. Winona, Yvonne, and Beatrix sat in chairs on the opposite side of the host. Someone else sat with the three of them, someone Spinel didn’t recognize. A boy, maybe sixteen years old. The title card that appeared under him read “Steven Universe, teen activist.”

Even with that introduction, Spinel still had no idea who this kid was, or why he was with the Damon’s. She listened intently as Winona Damon began weaving a tale about all the changes Steven helped them make to the company, and how she’s confident that other corporations will follow their lead. It honestly sounded lovely, even if she didn’t know who this Steven kid was. He was obviously very passionate about the reform of corporate America.

“My grandson here is the most compassionate person you’ll ever meet,” the elderly Winona said, smiling proudly, “All of Damon’s Diamonds are so happy to have him-”

Spinel stopped listening, her head suddenly spinning with questions. Her grandson? Whose kid was he? Yvonne and Beatrix had always stated their intentions to remain child free, and Piper… Piper was…

That’s when it clicked. The curly hair, the dark eyes, the smile. It was hers. It was all hers. But, no, that was impossible! Piper died too young to have a sixteen-year-old son… Unless…

Spinel darted up from the couch and sprinted to the dining room, where decades worth of mail was piled onto the table. She rarely paid attention to what she brought in from the mailbox, just tossing it onto the table. Maybe she missed something. A letter, a postcard, any kind of message from Piper. She could still hear the TV as she meticulously went through every parcel.

“I don’t want to be put on a throne for doing the right thing,” Steven said in response to a question from the host, “The world doesn’t need billionaires. I couldn’t spend that much money in a lifetime.

“In fact, I’m not even going to be staying in New York for much longer. I’m heading back to Beach City tonight.”

All noise after that faded to static as Spinel continued through the mail. She spent hours, maybe even a full day going through everything. She found nothing, no secret message, nothing from Piper. Tears stung in Spinel’s eyes as she looked to all the mail scattered around her. Through the various newspapers and magazine headlines she came across in her search, she’d managed to piece together the story. Piper faked her death in the fire. Rose Quintin, the woman who supposedly killed her, never existed. Piper was Rose. Piper set fire to her own warehouse and factory, ran off with a few friends to Delaware, and started a new life under the name Rose Quintin. She died for real sixteen years ago, after giving birth to her son, Steven. Going off the dates printed, it looked like the story first broke two years ago, after Steven first found out the truth about his mother. Spinel fell to her knees, her fists clenching around whatever mail was in front of her. The one spark of hope she’d had in years was violently stomped out as the realization that Piper had no intention of letting her know she was alive consumed her.

Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper lived an extra twelve years, and didn’t think to tell her best friend. Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper didn’t die in the fire.

Her body shaking, heart pounding, and tears flowing, Spinel felt something snap inside her. The mail she had in her hands was shredded into confetti as she started to scream. Furniture was thrown as she screamed until her throat burned. Gears turned in her head, powered by the hot fires of rage. She wanted revenge, she needed revenge, but Piper was dead, for real this time. It didn’t matter. Someone was going to pay. Someone was going to feel as much pain as she felt.

She couldn’t quite remember what happened between throwing a chair through the TV screen and getting on a plane to Delaware, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

#su #steven universe #my writing #spinel #pink diamond #rose quartz #white diamond #steven quartz universe #yellow diamond #blue diamond #human au #the great diamond authority #steven universe the movie

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michipeachiii · 5 years

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Hello, please stay safe and I wish you well! I don’t really understand what’s going on but you deserve happiness ❤️

Thank you so much Nonny! ♥

It’s a very long story but I’m gonna try to condense it as much as I can. I was raised in a doomsday cult. I realized I was being brainwashed in my early 20′s and tried to distance myself. Instead, I was outed and ostracized from my community. All the friends I had, my entire support system of over 100 people, was gone overnight because I was having doubts and wasn’t sure that I wanted to continue to be a part of the cult.

Growing up, I grew up in a toxic environment. My father, an abusive alcoholic who left when I was 4. And my mother, an emotionally/verbally/mentally abusive and ableist person (I’m very positive she’s a narcissist as well). My mother has continued to be abusive over the years. Sometimes she says my disability is my fault, sometimes she stops talking to me for a week because I didn’t complete a chore when she demanded me to. It goes beyond this and I go more into detail on @michipeachiii-sideblog

My mom is still involved in the cult and she listens to the meetings on the phone 4 times a week (twice on Sunday, twice during the week). This is extremely triggering for me and I don’t have any way to avoid being exposed to their propaganda. It’s a negative environment to be in.

Many of the cult members still live in my area and I have reason to believe certain people are stalking me. After leaving, I had more random/cryptic followers, suddenly elders (the equivalent of a pastor) were making accounts on the same platforms I already had accounts on, in an attempt to keep tabs on me and investigate who I was in contact with, random unknown phone calls etc. Am I in danger? Not necessarily but I hate the idea that people are keeping tabs on me because they want evidence I’m a sinner.

The cult has a no-blood transfusion policy and my mom is the only “next of kin” I have who can decide medical treatment should I ever be unable to do so myself. I am against this but my mom would rather let me die. When I move, my boyfriend and I will set up legal paperwork so that he can override my mom in case of emergency. I refuse to be a martyr.

I practice witchcraft and this is a major sin in the cult’s eyes. My mother would not allow me to practice freely. I am at a point where, I cannot keep my craft a secret? It weighs heavy on me to have to hide so much of myself because my mother would deny who I am? I’m also bisexual and demisexual, another big sin to them. I would like to be out IRL as well. I want to be in environment where I can just… be myself. I’m tired of lying and minimizing myself.

To try to wrap this up… my boyfriend wants to help me get out of this environment. He and his family, brothers included, are on board and want to help me get out of this toxic environment. They all realize how much this is wearing me out. So for the past few months, we’ve been trying to figure everything out and get a plan together. The issue is, they’re halfway across the country.

A couple of things have unexpectedly fallen into place, and they’re going to be nearby and in a position to get me out.

This entire situation is really stressful, bringing up a lot of negative emotions and memories for me, causing me a lot of distress. I feel bad for orchestrating all this without telling my mom what is going to happen, but in the past when I’ve tried to have a conversation with her, she tells me I’m a terrible person, that no one would want to live with me, that I’d be a burden and a bother to others, that they’d be desperate to kick me out. Recently, when I brought up the fact that I can’t secure medical treatment here she was very apathetic about the situation and told me that I wasn’t trying hard enough to secure medical care. [more info here]

Basically, I have tried to have a conversation with my mom several times, about the way she treats me, about letting me move out, and about my medical care and nothing really seems to get through to her. In her mind, Armageddon (end of the world) is going to be here any day now, so what’s the point of planning for the future. And I can’t subscribe to those beliefs. She’s asking me to put my life on hold because according to the cult, “everything will be cured and fixed in paradise.” This and other things she says on a regular basis are very triggering to me as well and induces anxiety. My mental health is not… good. And it won’t ever get good if I stay here with her.

If I let her keep controlling my life and holding me back, I’m gonna be stuck here until the day she dies and I can’t do that.

#answered

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errllybird · 6 years

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How Quitting the Job that Was Killing Me Also Killed Me

I have unprocessed emotions. I am apathetic, lazy and could not care less about things that motivated me. I am unhappy, dramatic, and want to just lay down and give up.

And boy, how those memes are relateable.

But it’s 2017. I am almost 30. I am going to be graduating in May, and will have obtained a Masters in Social Work, and I hate my life. No, seriously, I hate it. So many things are going not okay this year, and so many things are exhausting, and so many things feel like a waste of my potential.

And.. I don’t even know where to start. So, let’s just free-form the fuck out of this.

My mom is dying. She’s drunk all of the fucking time and dying. I haven’t seen her since Christmas and we haven’t had a real talk in over two or three years. She was told she has cirrhosis of the liver, and has five years to live if she doesn’t stop drinking. So she stopped for a few days. Then binged. Then probably tried to stop again, or didn’t, but definitely started drinking again. Got drunk. Fell in the tub. Busted open her head.

She was fine, I guess. No long term injuries at least, not like it matters. A weeks beforehand she had to get a blood transfusion. 3.5 units. Was experiencing such severe anemia that she lost over 50 pounds, dropping her weight to below 100lbs. She’s 5′ tall like me and solidly in her 50s, almost early 60s. She’s dying, and I don’t want to even see her for Thanksgiving. And I’m so angry and hurt and tired of her alcoholism. I’m so fucking angry about being asked to “try harder” as if me or my sister or my dad can do something different to make her want to be sober, or love her out of this. We tried loving her out of a lot of things, and she threw that back in our face everytime she drained a beer at 9am. I mean, it’s great that she stopped the coke, but I can’t remember a year where we didn’t have beer in the house.

My grandparents are dying, and I keep myself so busy that I don’t feel guilty about never sending them a Christmas card. I can’t undo all those years that I neglected our relationships. I can’t undo all those years that I felt like a failure for never crossing my legs, living with grace or being angry at them for never doing anything about all those days my sister and I went hungry. One at least brought us casserole, and her death is going to open a whole new hole in my chest that I am not ready to face. I’m scared for her death, and what it will say about me. I want to call her, but I’m terrified of the silence, and those years lost. She’s ready to die, and I’m still feeling immortal.

My other grandmother can barely remember that I’ve been married for two years, and I miss having easy relationships with family members. My aunts and uncles have unfollowed me on Facebook.

I have never felt so alone and unfocused in my life. Moving from home was so liberating in 2012, and yet, moving to a new city and tackling a new state feels like I decided to climb Mt Everest. I’m literally a four hour drive from my home town, but I feel more distant than when I lived in Russia for four months. How is that possible?

I left to go into social work, and started working with adults with disabilities, and, looking back, I loved it. It was rewarding, challenging, and I worked in a system that didn’t work. Now, I’m interning at a place that has already written me off as a failure and treats me as a clerical worker rather than the professional social worker I am and I am training to be. It’s crushing, and feels incredibly disrespectful. I feel humiliated, isolated, and a bit like a scapegoat. “We need an independent worker,” they cry, while also talking about how they need specific results from me. These specific results have little instruction, and they seem to think that someone who is ignorant can operate on their informed schedule. I’m not getting the educational experience they promised or I paid for. I’m angry, and offended.

School means little to me lately. I don’t care about deadlines, nor do I care about my performance. It feels meaningless and I’m lost. I just want someone to ask me if I’m okay and then not panic when I start to panic about wanting to kill myself, about this all being a lie, about how I’m lost, and pointless, and how I’m doing this all to myself. I want to tell someone about how I want to pull the skin from my face and just cry, cry, cry. But not a therapist. I’ve been partially trained to be a therapist. I just want a friend, a peer, someone who will hug me and talk about deep issues with me and will talk about themselves and let me talk about me. I want to not hurt anymore and not hold someone’s hand through my experiences. I want someone who will jump feet first in and endure my storm.

I really want to fuck someone who isn’t my husband. We have an open thing and I just want to experience someone new. Of course, because I feel like such shit, the one person I want to hit on is unobtainable for a multitude of reasons. A person or two may have tried to convince me to roll with it, but nooo. Even drunk me knows he doesn’t want me. I mean, when he barely answers messages and barely talks to you, you kinda know what’s up, awkward or not.

Fuck.

Feelings: lonely, sad, anxious as fuck about failing everything, wanting to rip my skin from my face. Mortal, I’m feeling so mortal. I have failed.

#personal

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jpblom · 7 years

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Journey with me to Eastbourne UK where I share my personal experience of a Shamanic Journey…

From the 7th of April 2017 until 9th of April I traveled to Eastbourne for a Shamanic Journey, a retreat close to the beautiful cliffs England has to offer. What you are about to discover is my own personal experience with Shamanism, the visions I have seen and the healings I have channeled and experienced. You can either choose to watch the short 8 min recap video or the total video blog of 40 min where I share everything I have experienced during the meditations and healings. Also that video comes with a bit of landscape photography and my hiking travel towards the retreat.

Shamanic Journeying from transmitting Star Frequencies to exploring the plant energy healing world…

Watch below the full length of my Shamanic Journey. Please note that the audio quality of pretty poor. If you prefer to read the full experience or watch the short recap version then please scroll down.

From London to Eastbourne which is a small village near the coast of the South of England.

Escaping London to breath the fresh air of the coast was already a uplifting experience as I feel that the energy in the city is sometimes pulling me a bit down. Or perhaps it’s my own frequencies that didn’t really matched up with this fast paced world. Anyway my goal was to hike from Eastbourne to the retreat which is more countryside located.

I noticed on the map it would only take me 2,5 hours walking but by the time I reached the retreat I passed 4,5 hours hiking. I can’t complain because the views were absolutely breathtaking.

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The new insight I got when I approached the seaside of Eastbourne was that spiritual development is sometimes just like online advertising. You constantly need you tweak your path to see what’s working. When it comes to advertising you seek for the ads that are converting and which don’t. For spirituality (lifting your vibration) you constantly are adjusting your sails to tune in. To find what’s working for you that makes you feel alive.

What I am working on and what I am trying the achieve during the workshop.

Eventually we all would like to learn how to master the ego-centric Lower Self and connect with our Higher Self. For me it’s also to feel more confident about providing a healing solution to the world and make a living with working from the heart. As I have been through my spiritual awakening since 2012 I had to go through a burn out and several depressions in order to get rid of my working addiction/distraction.

What I realized during my hiking trip of 4,5 hours over the cliffs…

I have to be total honest with you. I totally underestimated the distance and length of the hiking trip. However the insight I got was that when you put your mind to something the body will follow. I have no problems to do some physical exercise as I am also in to Crossfit 3 times a week. However I noticed that when it came to work related topics that my level of apathy would sabotage any type of success even before I got started. Or had this to do that after decades of struggling to find my way in life that I still had not found my true gifts and talents?

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Exploring the Star Frequencies…

Arrived at the retreat I discovered not only a beautiful location in the country side but also with what star frequency I resonated with the most. After our vegetarian diner we went straight to work. Our shaman channeled various star frequencies from the Pleiadian which is more about unconditional love (personally I experienced a harmonies energy falling down on the group), Sirius B which is about sound frequencies (personally I felt something shifting in my third eye), Arcturians who are master healers, engineers and are highly advanced beings. For me this one was the most powerful experience where I felt immediately two beams of light coming into my hands, I felt my lightbody raised up and it was their engineering reconstructed something with my DNA. The message I got from the Arcturians was that I had to work more closely with them as a channel in order to send more healing energy to people and the planet. The last star frequency came from the Orions. I felt guided to hold my own hands in front of my heart in order to extract all the dense energy that was still stuck in there and was holding my back. It felt like a extraordinary cosmic event took place.

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Healing the Inner Child, filling up the needs that were never met…

During the evening we were sitting near the bonfire and the fire touched a bit my lower chakras. For me it was like right now I feel powerful, inspired and connected but I know from personal experience that once I am back in the ‘normal world’ I lose my connection, trying to adapt and fit in again.

When it comes to my work/career I have been struggling for a very long time to do something I truly enjoy and love doing. I have no problems learning new skills but once I learned it I got bored and want to move on to the next thing. Also I couldn’t really find any true fulfillment in marketing a online business therefore I became a bit apathetic as well. What I discovered or learned from the last months working on this topic that was still daunting on me was that I suppressed my emotions from a very young age in order to survive and be the emotional caretaker/pleaser for one of my parents. Therefore I couldn’t really experience joy, love, abundance and fulfillment. Eventually and the end of the workshop I received a new insight so keep on reading…

Connecting with the dimension of plant medicines…

As soon as we went into the meditation to connect with the gatekeeper he welcomed me back home and suggested to hurry up because there is work to do. After I entered the gate I was back home in my Garden of Eden, a beautiful paradise with plants that were holding various light frequencies. Healing Frequencies that were connected to the Arcturians. Because I was the one who was managing all the frequencies or being the keeper of this garden I saw myself as a much younger, joyful and playful soul who was creating recipes from the various plants for maintaining a much bigger vortex. A vortex that brought a instant healing to anyone who liked to stand in to it. When I turned my face away from the garden I noticed a very large horde of people who were lining up for healing. By just standing in the vortex they were able to walk in the Garden of Eden.

The biggest insight I got from doing this was that we as Lightworkers/Starseeds DON’T HAVE to do anything, we just need to BE there as a Receiver of the Healing Light Frequencies we are able to tune into. Receive it and send it out to to others and the world.

Can we bend or manipulate time in order to manifest faster and effortlessly?

When it comes to work, it’s our duty, obligation and responsibility to align ourselves with our purpose, ALIGNMENT is the key! Act to the insights and inspirations you receive from your Higher Self. Act upon will create a even bigger uplifting experience for yourself, others and the world. Step more into a joyful experience (by simply creating for the joy of creating) without any expectations on outcomes will make you feel more present. When you are more present in your joyful state you are not longer attached to your past that you are projecting in the present with the expectation that becomes your future as well. When you are more present in producing for making a bigger contribution you start to manifest effortlessly.

Meeting my Dragon again…

The Dragon Energy in Shamanism is about Wisdom, Personal Power & Encouragement. The first time I had to meet my dragon in his cave it wanted to fly and have freedom. Now when I met my dragon in this meditation it wanted to chill out and relax a bit. He was a bit tired of being in a constant battle because he shifted his energy. He wanna to let me know that he was always by my side and always will be and that I can access him anytime I want. However he had to let me know that I don’t need him that much anymore. He showed me that right now he has a different kind of job to do, a different kind of assistance to give. He showed me again how I was working with my energy vortex for healing people. He was now more of a gatekeeper to have a eye on who is entering the Garden of Eden, making sure that only people with the right type of intention would enter. Because now more and more people where leaving ‘The Dark World’ of our EGO there was now more space required to expand the ‘Green Paradise World’, the world of Unconditional Love; aka The 5th Dimension. His job was to fly over the Dark World and transform it into the Green World with his fire.

Fulfilling unfulfilled needs…

As mentioned before about healing the inner child; The second evening we had to burn what we wanna to let go of. For me it was the needs that were never met so I can surrender to the unconditional love from the universe and all the wisdom and support it has to offer. Simply by surrendering and aligning myself with my purpose.

The 2 Biggest Insights and Take Away’s From The Retreat;

Did you saw any value in this, can you relate in some way or like to share your thoughts then please leave your comments below;

My Shamanic Journey Journey with me to Eastbourne UK where I share my personal experience of a Shamanic Journey...

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