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scientia-rex · 4 months

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I had one of those days where I just had too many feelings to fit inside my skin, and I’ll have to recover from it.

Telling a patient she has breast cancer. Telling a patient she has dementia. Calling a patient at 6:30pm, still sitting at my desk, because even though I finished seeing patients at 5pm, I have work to do. Doing an endometrial biopsy on a patient who may have cancer. Calling a company so I can get the password to a website so I can recredential every three months so my clinic can charge for my work. Working with an assistant on whom I’ve also done an endometrial biopsy. My regular MA is out with COVID. I’m getting a year-end bonus for the first time in my life. Some idiot kid thinks I don’t know how ears work. I saw back to back ADHD patients; one is a trans woman who paused her transition because she can’t afford it. One is a kid who did loops around the exam room chairs the whole time I talked to his mother. His mother was frosty towards me at first because I was running late because I was telling a patient she had breast cancer, and she was crying, and her daughter was crying, and when her partner died of a different cancer last year the hospice workers were homophobic and she’s afraid of hospice. A different idiot kid thinks I don’t know how soap works. The ADHD kid’s mom warmed up to me when she realized I cared and knew what I was talking about. The kid said, “AHEM. What’s up, chicken butt?” I laughed and high fived him. I gave his mom the Vanderbilt forms to assess ADD symptoms across multiple environments. I saw a patient who had a certain air about her that I recognized intimately, and at the end I asked what she did, and she was a doctor, too. I knew it had to be something like that. When I explain medical concepts I aim for lay language, but I can see when people get faintly impatient with me for it, and I’ll add in more and more technical language and see when they start looking confused; she didn’t. I could watch every new patient take in my brightly-colored hair, combined with the utterly forgettable rest of me, all browns and grays and dress slacks and comfortable shoes, because the hair is my one concession to my deep need for attention; in the exam room, I need to recede into the background so the patient can be the focus. Studies have shown that patients don’t like it when doctors disclose that they have the same medical issues. It might seem like bonding, but it shifts the focus away from where it belongs: the patient. That island of time is theirs. The breast cancer patient’s daughter said to me, “Thank you for spending the time with us. I know you didn’t have the time.” And I said, “From each according to their something or other, to each according to their needs. It’s lukewarm Marxism.” I don’t think she heard it all, or took it all in, which was good. I had a migraine that made my head feel three sizes too big with a steady drumbeat of pain despite taking two Ubrelvy, two Aleve, and two Tylenol, plus 100mg of caffeine and a propranolol and a Zofran. You have to disconnect each patient from the next. I can’t bring the breast cancer patient’s grief and heaviness into a room where a little boy is doing hand-stands and telling me silly puns. One of the nurses brought me a sublingual Toradol from a stash—someone’s purse, somewhere—because she wanted me to feel better, and I felt tears stinging my eyes because she cared about me. I couldn’t afford to cry. I just told a woman she has dementia and she doesn’t believe me. I told her to bring her husband to our next visit. I ended my clinic day doing an endometrial biopsy, trying to pass a uterine sound through a stenotic cervix, but I’ve done this before enough times to know to have the set of dilators ready. I dilated her cervix gently but firmly, with the back pressure of the tenaculum, until I could get the sound in, and then I left the sound there while my assistant handed me the sampling pipelle, because if you remove it there’s a good chance the cervix will tighten down again and you’ll have to repeat the dilation. The patient was holding her husband’s hand and chanting to him under her breath, in pain despite the Xanax I gave her.

I’m a doctor. It’s everything to me.

#the attending dr. kristophine

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vintage1981 · 6 months

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Actress and Author, Lara Parker, of Dark Shadows, Passes at 84

Lara Parker, who found the role of a lifetime at just 28 years old when she was cast by Dark Shadows producer Dan Curtis as the beautiful, vengeful and altogether evil witch Angelique Bouchard Collins, died October 12 in her sleep in Los Angeles following a battle with cancer. She was 84.

Her death was announced by producer Jim Pierson of Dan Curtis Productions, on behalf of Parker’s family.

“I’m heartbroken, as all of us are who knew and loved her,” said her Dark Shadows co-star and longtime friend Kathryn Leigh Scott in a statement. “She graced our lives with her beauty, talent and friendship, and we are all richer for having had her in our lives.”

Parker was born Mary Lamar Rickey on Oct. 27, 1938, in Knoxville, Tennessee. Her father, Albert, was an attorney, and her mother, Ann, was active in civic groups.

She graduated from Central High School in Memphis and attended Vassar — she roomed with Jane Fonda there — and Rhodes College in Memphis, where at 19 she served as Wink Martindale’s assistant on his WHBQ-TV show, Dance Party. She then earned a master’s degree from the University of Iowa.

Parker, who also authored four popular Dark Shadows-related novels from 1998-2016, arrived on the supernatural soap opera in 1967, not long after Canadian actor Jonathan Frid had been cast as vampire Barnabas Collins. Frid’s storyline changed the show from a moody, Gothic Jane Eyre-type serial into a flat-out horror show.

During breaks in production, Parker acted on Broadway in September 1968 in Woman Is My Idea, which lasted just five performances, and in the early Brian De Palma film Hi, Mom! (1970), starring Robert De Niro.

And toward the end of the daytime serial, she and fellow castmembers including John Karlen, Kate Jackson, David Selby and Grayson Hall appeared in the poorly received MGM film Night of Dark Shadows (1971).

In 1972, Parker relocated to Los Angeles and went on to appear on episodes of such shows as Medical Center, Kojak, The Rockford Files, Police Woman, Kolchak: The Night Stalker (as a witch) and The Incredible Hulk, where she played David Banner’s first wife in a flashback sequence in the pilot.

In her later years, Parker turned to writing and teaching — her novels include Angelique’s Descent (1998), The Salem Branch (2006), Wolf Moon Rising (2013) and Heiress of Collinwood (2016). The books proved popular among Dark Shadows‘ still-devoted, conventions-attending fan base, as well as devotees of romance and horror genre novels.

Parker kept in touch with her co-stars including Scott, Selby, Roger Davis, the late John Karlen and others throughout her life, particularly once the conventions became annual events in the late 1980s through the 1990s and up to the 50th anniversary celebration in 2017.

Many of the original cast, including Parker, recorded a series of Dark Shadows audio dramas in the 2000s released by Big Finish Productions. They also reunited for a “Smartphone Theatre” Zoom-style, Covid-era performance of A Christmas Carol in 2021 and, on Halloween night 2020, a YouTube/Zoom Dark Shadows cast reunion.

Parker is survived by second husband Jim Hawkins, daughter Caitlin, sons Rick and Andy, and their wives Miranda and Celia; and grandson Wesley.

#Lara Parker #Dark Shadows #Dan Curtis #Jonathan Frid #The Incredible Hulk #Kojak #Kathryn Leigh Scott #Big Finish Productions #David Selby #Grayson Hall #Angelique Bouchard #Angelique Bouchard Collins #Barnabas Collins

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beneathashadytree · 2 years

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hi! i saw that your requests were open and i was wondering if you’d write a yuumori piece?

i’m thinking either for william and/or sherlock where it takes place after the 3 years skip and they come back to find that their wife has a baby/toddler and has gotten really close with their brother. They think that she moved on from them and married their brother and had a kid with him and get all huffy and jealous and sad. And it doesn’t help that the kid looks exactly like their brother (and them too but they’re too sad/grieving for their marriage to notice)

what ACTUALLY happened was that Y/N found out she was pregnant after they had “died” and louis/mycroft decided to act as a makeshift father and “husband figure” for Y/N and the baby (though everything is strictly platonic between louis/mycroft and Y/N) cause living as a single mom back then would’ve been hard and they also want to be there for their niece/nephew. and Y/N always told their kid stories and stuff about their real father and it’s just some real sad angst turned into sweet family reunion fluff? thanks! ❤️

REUNITED - SHERLOCK HOLMES X READER

Warnings : this is set after the timeskip, Sherlock is kind of an asshole at certain points, accusations of infidelity, this is not proofread as usual, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : heavy angst to fluff whewww

Word count : 2.2K words (not sorry)

Additional notes : I really don’t know where to start. I’m so sorry it took me a ridiculously long time to get to this, but as soon as I finished my finals, I contracted COVID 🥹 Actually I’m still sick as we speak, but hopefully this wasn’t too effed up🫠 Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy this, because I absolutely adored writing it!

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

Sherlock Holmes was a million things. Stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, and absolutely bullheaded? Certainly. Inquisitive, deeply thinking, and brimming with a curiosity that could never be sated? Definitely. Ultimately kind-hearted at times, rather drawn to souls with soft corners to their jagged personalities, and unconditionally loving when he allowed himself the luxury of affection? Unquestionably.

He was all those things and more, and he thought he knew himself pretty damn well—but he certainly hadn’t expected to think himself a fool. At times foolish; yes, but not a blundering idiot that misplaced his trust in others. Never that. But then again, what else would he call himself, with the sight that stood in front of him?

Unless his eyesight had turned drastically poor and he wasn’t seeing things right, there was his wife, seated next to the head of the table, looking so sweet that it sent his heart barreling in his chest. Any blooming adoration was dampened, however, by the fact that she’d left her dinner plate to coo at a little child at her side, napkin dabbing at the squirming toddler’s chin, and the fact that the seat at the head of the table was occupied by none other than Mycroft, who’d sported a few more lines to his face than he’d last recalled he had.

It took them mere seconds to notice his presence, and for the sound of utensils clanging as they dropped to register amidst the pang of betrayal and utter heartbreak that resounded in him.

“Sherly?” came her quivering voice, disbelief tinging the nickname that had once brought immeasurable joy into his life, and now only left a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn’t bear to meet her eyes, instead swiveling his head around and watching his older brother, whose shocked expression mirrored hers.

Instead of addressing any obvious elephant in the room, all Mycroft asked was, “How’d you get in?” to which Sherlock pulled out a key from his back pocket.

“Not quite diligent of you, brother, leaving the key under the potted plant by the windowsill,” try as he might, he couldn’t fight the bitterness out of his voice, and all he could do was attempt to look at anything else but the apparently happy couple that had hurriedly stood up, abandoning their half-eaten red flannel hash and peas.

A rather horrible decision, really, since his eyes landed on the toddler who’d currently cocked his head curiously at the stranger he was. And the first sickening thought that entered his mind was how utterly identical the little kid was to his older brother. The same narrow dark eyes, the same tousled bluish hair, and even the same finely drawn lips—there was no doubt remaining in Sherlock’s mind that this child was his nephew.

A chuckle came from behind him, “First time seeing your brother in three years after you were presumed dead, and the first words out of your mouth are an admonition? You’ve certainly grown up.”

“Yes, well, I hope my arrival hasn’t put a damper on your lovely date night,” came his curt reply, though he tried to force a half-smile on his face afterwards as a sort of compensation, “I see you’ve been faring well,” the man turned to briefly face his lover—well, ex-lover now he supposed, “The both of you. And the little boy. Certainly hadn’t thought I’d be made an uncle so young.”

It was all Sherlock could do to prevent himself from clawing at his chest, the sharp pain climbing up his throat and stinging every nerve he had, urging him to burst into horrible, absolutely ugly tears that he was currently just barely holding back. He had to feign at least some dignity and nonchalance.

At that, the woman he’d once thought he knew furrowed her eyebrows.

“Uncle? Sherly—“

“Please, Mrs. Holmes,” his voice held a certain finality as he held his hand up, and he somehow managed to swallow past the lump in his throat, “I would rather not have this conversation in front of him. Or at all, for that matter.”

And though every part of him begged to clutch at her arms and swoop her into his, the ebony-haired man turned to look the other way despite her slightly-hurt look, leaving her to gently speak to the confused-looking child in a low voice and pick him up as she walked off into another room. He refused to even think of sneaking a look at her fingers and wondering if the ring Mycroft must’ve bought her was any better than the one he’d barely managed to save up for.

Mycroft. Of course it had to be Mycroft, he bitterly thought to himself, as said man stiffly guided him to the sitting room, Mycroft whom he’d never managed to and never will best. Mycroft, with his much tidier hair, deeper set eyes, calmer visage, and regal features. Mycroft, with his unmatched maturity that somehow fit perfectly with his occasional smiles that he’d always trusted in. Mycroft, with his massive build and unwavering loyalty that his own apparent-fickleness could never compare to. Mycroft, who’d always (unknowingly) charmed ladies and gentlemen alike at the times he himself could only ever strike annoyance in others.

Mycroft, who’d always been so prim and promer—of course he’d never measure up to him. He’d never quite been enough; he really should’ve known better than to trust the insurmountable love that had blinded him—

“Sherlock, I think there’s been a… misunderstanding of sorts.”

“Rather charming child he is, isn’t he?” the faux cheer in his voice as he interrupted his older brother couldn’t fool anyone as he studied the baby pictures on the fireplace, “Your son takes after you quite a bit.”

Mycroft sighed, crossing his legs, “It really isn’t that—“

“Better hope he’d have a bit more loyalty and faithfulness than his father, though,” he hummed, though the look on his face could only be described as utterly miserable, “Never quite liked chaps who were too full of themselves and went and backstabbed their friends and families.”

“Oh, honestly,” exasperation seeped through the man’s words as he attempted to get a word in edgewise, “Pull your head out of your dramatic arse and listen to me.”

If not for anything else, Sherlock was stunned into silence by the older man’s uncharacteristic foul language. Sharp eyes found his, and though the bitterness still clutched at his heart and heartbreak still clouded his vision, he clenched his fists as he could only see earnestness in his eyes.

“He’s yours,” Mycroft slowly said, letting the words sink in, “You’re the father.”

Silence enveloped them, and the air was thick with an inexplicable sort of tension. No words were spoken, as Sherlock’s face turned expressionless as the gears in his head set to work.

“That’s not possible,” he scoffed, his tone snarky, “She wasn’t pregnant before… before it happened.”

“That’s what we thought, didn’t we?” a soft sigh came from behind him, and he whipped around to see the woman he’d once embraced so hard he’d had no idea where he ended and she began, standing at the doorway with her arms folded, “Barely a month after you disappeared, I went to see a doctor for my repeated dizzy spells, only to have him confirm that I was with child. Just two months along.”

With careful strides, she took a seat by the fireplace, regarding the way Sherlock’s features began to contort into a look of offended fury.

“So, you decided to just go ahead and court my wife because I was presumed dead?” he rolled his eyes, once again turning away from the familiar gentle face that stirred up all the memories of nightly embraces and warm words whispered, “Ex-wife, it seems. Have you been comfortable playing the role of doting husband and father, Mycroft?”

“You know damn well he’d never do that, Sherlock,” she finally snapped, quickly making her way over to his side and cornering him on the couch, arms resting at both sides of his head, “Mycroft saved us from a world of misery. He protected both my reputation as a widow, and our son’s happiness. So he could grow up surrounded by the sort of love only a father figure could give.”

“I’m not quite sure you’ve noticed, but that’s the definition of playing father and husband,” Sherlock’s eyes were burning, and he knew that the cause wasn’t just the anger bubbling inside of him, but the tears that he held back, “With the actual father and first husband gone, he’d finally step in.”

“What did you expect me to do, leave them out on the streets so that the ‘Ton could dig into their flesh?” Mycroft’s interruption was scathing, but not untrue, and his harsh scowl let up as he spoke again, “I made it clear to him from the start that I was a concerned uncle, nothing more, nothing less. I wanted to be there for my nephew.”

“And I’d never let a day pass without telling him about how wonderful and brilliant his papa was—is,” she corrected herself, a sad look settling in her eyes as she did, “Even when I was all alone in bed with nothing to keep me company but the baby’s kicks against my belly, I spoke to him and told him of how lucky I’d been to have found you,” she paused, swallowing thickly, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest at the sight of her looking so beautiful and yet so heartbreakingly distraught, “How sorry I was that he’d probably never get the chance to meet the incredible man you are.”

“Sherly,” his brother’s voice was soft once again, and the gentleness in it had him nearly gasping for breath, trying to blink back his tears as he met his eyes, “I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d left them to fend for their own. I owed that much to you.”

Harshly gulping, Sherlock unclenched his fists, knuckles a little sore, “And… there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Fervently shaking her head, the woman he thought to be the most wondrous in the world cupped his cheeks in hers. Under any other circumstances, perhaps he’d have felt embarrassed of such a display of affection in front of Mycroft, but he currently could only let himself lean into the touch he’d gone three achingly long years without.

“Never had, and never will,” she firmly replied, “I was too busy mourning to ever think of anyone else. I knew I’d only ever have eyes for you, come what may.”

“I’ve never laid eyes upon her in a way a brother wouldn’t,” Mycroft insisted, driving the point home clear, his large, calloused hand resting on his younger brother’s shoulder reassuringly, “And we’ve slept in entirely different wings the whole time.”

“B-but, he looks so much like you,” Sherlock weakly protested, looking up at the man whose expression seemed annoyed at the remark.

“How you could be so bright and yet so painstakingly thick at the same time is beyond me,” he muttered under his breath, walking away as he said something about this being outside his area of expertise, at the same time his beloved chuckled lightly, her laugh fanning the flames that were being rekindled in his heart—or rather, the ones that had never died.

With her dazzling smile, her fingers brushed his cheeks, which he only now realized had grown damp, and her voice was filled with amusement as her eyes brimmed with a fondness he’d so desperately missed.

“Silly,” she breathed out, “I think you’ve forgotten how uncannily similar you and Mycroft always had looked, especially as kids.”

Sniffling, Sherlock tried his best to weakly make a joke, “Not exactly the most reassuring thing to say.”

“Why not?” she looked genuinely confused as she delicately wiped his falling tears away; the tears he could no longer be bothered to hold back when the emotional turmoil had gotten the best of him and tugged forth every feeling he’d tried to silence.

With a watery half-laugh, he explained, “Well, what if you found him just as dashing?”

“You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, now, are you?” still cradling his warm skin like one would to an invaluable treasure, she hesitated for a second before lowering herself onto his lap, the new proximity causing Sherlock’s breath to hitch in his throat like a teenager’s would.

Arching his brow (despite knowing he looked anything but intimidating at the moment), he quipped, “Twice in a row I’ve had my intelligence insulted.”

“Well, only an idiot would think I’d ever think of comparing the man who has me so smitten with anyone else,” her hands slowly traced down a path to the back of his neck, hooking around the corded muscle, and he could see his longing and lovesick reflection in her eyes, “No matter how alike you might look, I’ll always see the world of a difference between you and him.”

He cautiously leaned in, hope bursting at the seams under his skin; hope that all was in fact not lost, hope that he could still grasp her between his fingers and not have her slip away. “A good difference, I’d wager?”

And now that they were so close he could retrace every single dot and line he’d almost but not quite forgotten, he could see the glint of gold deep down her neckline; the metallic hue of the wedding ring he’d labored so hard to afford hooked on a thin chain around their neck and hidden underneath her clothes.

If she saw the tears dripping down his face, she made no comment on it, instead murmuring against his lips, “The best kind.”

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @thispersoniscrazy

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spectres-fulcrum · 24 days

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I was listening for Folklore while it was raining on the drive home(my mom was driving) and Obi-Wan is Mirrorball("I've never been a natural all I do is try try try", "hush I know they said the end was near, but", "I can change everything about me to fit in", "I'm still a believer and I don't know why") and Xanatos is This is Me Trying("I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting", "I could've followed my fears all the way down" "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back", "My words shoot to kill when I'm mad", "I was so ahead of the curve the curve became a sphere.") and Qui-Gon-

Qui-Gon's faithless love is the only Hoax they believed in after he betrayed them(Xan on the Telos mission, Obi-Wan when he carelessly tossed him aside for Anakin)("stood on the cliffside screaming give me a reason", ""You knew the hero died so what's the movie for?", "My only one, My kingdom come undone", "You knew it still hurt underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart but what you did was just as dark.)

Just. Pain. Xanatos being the gifted and talented child and Obi-Wan worked for every crumb of acknowledgment and both got shafted in the end :( Before the TCW disaster lineage trio we had this disaster lineage trio.

(Also I had to go to an out of town funeral today so my brain is cooked from waking up over two hours early so that is literally all I can handle analysis wise. Everything's fine tho! No one I was super close to. My dad's cousin's husband. We used to go to woodworking shows he had booths at pre-covid so I had good memories of him and his wife so I wanted to pay my respects)

#jedi apprentice #disaster lineage #xanatos #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #folklore

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mulderwearingglasses · 2 years

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In 2020, I lost my grandma to COVID-19.

I had already lost the parts of her who knew me to Alzheimer’s.

But many years before, she was my summer salvation. My mom was a working single mom so that meant summers were spent nestled in my grandma’s little house. She’d cut me up apple slices and pass them to me on tiny plates to eat inside blanket forts and take me to the library and the ice cream shop and buy ladybugs at the garden store so I could watch them fly in the backyard. We watched cartoons and cooked messes together. By this point, her husband was long gone so I like to think that we both gave each other something those summers. Companionship and simple joys to pass our hot, lazy days.

To me, she was a quintessential grandmotherly figure: she had perfect wrinkles, a soft and warm body, sweet temperament. I can’t remember her raising her voice. Only soft-spoken, simple smiles.

As an adult now, I recognize I didn’t know much about her. I knew what she ordered at the ice cream shop and what her soft snores sounded like when she fell asleep on the couch next to me, but I didn’t know what she was afraid of or what her proudest moment was or what the last thing that made her cry was.

I did know the X-Files was her favorite show. Not because we watched it together - she’d turn the channel back to cartoons whenever I came into the room and say it was too scary for me.

I didn’t really know what the X-Files were growing up other than it was a show about aliens. I assumed because my sweet, mild-mannered grandma liked it, it wasn’t something of interest to me.

I didn’t give the show much thought until my grandma died. I was talking about her with my mom and remembering all the little things I could, recounting my favorite times with her. How she worked at a chocolate shop and we’d visit her and she’d sneak me pieces of candy. Her shuffling gait, the way her shoes barely left the ground and she’d marched forward in tiny, deliberate steps.

“And she loved The X-Files” my mom had said.

Oh yeah, I remembered.

By this time, I was in my mid-20s and had grown into exactly who I wanted to: a macabre, little writer who loved Halloween, the paranormal and all things spooky.

“Isn’t the X-Files about aliens? It just seems like a show grandma wouldn’t have liked,” I’d said. “She was so sweet and, I don’t know, I never heard her talk about aliens and she didn’t like scary things and I can’t remember her talking about the fantastical or anything.”

“Yeah, I never watched it either,” my mom said “But your grandma loved that show. I guess it’s hard to fully know someone. But you know what she always said. ‘There’s so much we don’t know.’”

And I laughed remembering the phrase my grandma frequently uttered after a lull in conversation, when she’d stare off into space.

One night shortly after my grandma died, I was stuck inside during the pandemic and missing my family. I had moved away years before and felt disconnected from mourning our matriarch. I couldn’t even fly home to see her because of the virus.

So I started watching The X-Files. And, oh my god, it was just the kind of show I would lose my mind over. Government conspiracies and supernatural spooks and an emphasis on belief and trust and vulnerability and, not to mention, two hot idiots in love?? I was hooked. I became obsessed with this show during a very weird time in my life, and the more I watched, the more I imagined my grandma feeling the same. We must have been so much more alike than I knew. I wished I could ask her what she thought about UFOs and what her favorite episode was and what episode freaked her out the most and what season of Mulder she thought was the hottest (season 1, Duh)

I found the X-Files fan fic community and now look for X-Files treasures every time I step into a thrift store (some great finds!!) and play my favorite episodes almost every night. I feel the soft warmth of my grandma with me when I do.

And whenever I watch a scene or episode where I’m like “man, I can’t believe my unassuming little grandma loved this show” I always smile to myself and think “there’s so much we don’t know”

#just was thinking about my grandma today and wanted to thank you all for making this space where I could find her again #and find a show that could become a personality trait of course #txf #the xfiles #xfiles #x files

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scum-belina · 3 months

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While dealing with covid I still have to do my usual routine of filling up water jugs since I've not had running water in two years due to ruined plumbing neither my mom nor I can afford to fix. Can't even try to save up for it at this point because we still have over $2000 in property taxes to pay on our small lot which is insane, and I still need to get new tires desperately. The stress and worry were already making me sick I didn't need covid on top of it.

But now whenever I go to my neighbors rose's to fill up jugs, I often get harassed by my other neighbor Lupe who according to Rose is jealous of how close I am with her. She treats Rose like a mother figure and Rose is and grandma figure to me and I'm just??? Leave me alone??? Rose has INSISTED I fill up my water jugs or do laundry at her place any time. She told me even when she's not home to just use her spare key she hid on her porch and come on in and fill up.

Last week before I even got sick, I was there filling up while Rose was gone and Lupe stormed in and demanded to know who was there (like she didn't recognize my car she drives by every day???) And then demanded to know why i wasn't wearing a mask in Rose's house (this woman doesn't give a shit about masks, she just wanted to start shit with me. Also I literally had one in my car I was heading back to out on before she stormed in.)

I told Rose about it and she was pissed bc she had already told Lupe to leave me alone, which is bizarre because I literally do nothing to Lupe. Last time I saw her was a year ago and we always got along and had a good time at rose's. But now I've been told she views me as a threat and wants to accuse me of taking advantage of Rose even though Rose herself is of complete sound mind and I would never do that to anyone. Hell I'm embarrassed and ashamed as hell to have to fetch my water from other people.

It's humiliating and tiring. Sometimes I have to fill up 30 gallons multiple times a week, carry them to my car, then carry them to my porch, then into my house. My arms be strong as hell tho ngl. Anyways Lupe had her ex husband cover rose's outside faucet last year (WAY before freezing weather season, so I guess even then she was trying to give me trouble) where I couldn't use it easily at all, so I gave up and started going inside, now that I'm sick and won't go in her house I asked Rose if I could uncover it all and she said absolutely and don't even worry about covering it back up.

The thing is that I'm already so low. I can barely get any lower in life than I am. So why harass me over getting water??? It's not even her fucking property. Rose told her I'm trusted and allowed to come and go as I need and please and I think that's pissed her off even more.

There's evidence that Lupe might be hoping to get rose's money, home, and car,once she dies, but I know Rose and that's not her will at all. She said Lupe makes her uncomfortable bc she does things to rose's house without her permission like changing her curtains and furniture??? WHO DOES THAT

Lupe also has a trait that has always troubled me where she seems to be a self-hating Hispanic. I've heard her say the most vile things about other Hispanic neighbors that literally do nothing wrong??? Like one time she saw some hanging out their laundry on a cloudy day and was like "typical dirty wetbacks" and I was like "wtf girl that's horrible to say. i've had to do that before too don't hate on someone for doing what they have to do"

she has a son, his gf and another kid who live with her and most of them are on disability so she be reaping their checks and when she first moved right across from Rose last year, she and her crew IMMEDIATELY made Rose get sick bc they weren't cautious around her at all, so her trying to make me feel bad like I was TRYING to make Rose sick even though Rose wasn't even there and I told her I wiped any door or faucet handle I touch down with alcohol before I leave, is alllll bullshit. She's been stewing to find fault with me for months and that was her chance and it failed big time with me AND with Rose later that day.

It's so bizarre. To me, Rose is a nice grandmotherly in her own odd way neighbor. I visit her and we talk about anything and everything. Even before I needed water I would go over there just to hang out and get out of my own head for a while. But it's not like I go over there or talk to her every day. Why am I such a threat to someone like Lupe. I really don't get it. Her and her crew have being doing so much more to harass me and it's got me so grieved and scared. I just want to live in a better place.

Even when I go to my maternal grandma's, other relatives will mock or harass me for filling up jugs or doing laundry there. And my maternal grandma has well water so she doesn't even pay a damn water bill. Like, why kick me when I'm already down? It's not like I just sit around and do nothing. I do everything I can to earn money with odd jobs but have had no luck on getting a decent job or even part-time job. It devastates and humiliates me. I cry myself to sleep more often than not at my whole life situation. I don't need anyone else to make me feel worse than I already do.

I understand if you said or thought "I ain't reading all of that". I really do. This is a rambling mess. I just needed to vent out a little bit of that stupidity that's been going on recently in my life. I'm so tired and scared all the time.

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nityarawal · 8 months

Text

8/22/2023

Afternoon Songs

Did That Judge

Just Get Retired

Did That Judge

Just Expire

Did We Scare Her

Dr. Kazi

Lord I Hope So

No No

Mercy

Judge Davis

You Showed Me Little

Compassion

Went After

My Head

Fish Line & Sinker

Let's See Her

You Said

Last Autumn

When Are We Gonna

See Her

Well I Used To Be

On Instagram

Before You Kidnapped

Me With Your

Asian Predecessors

Judges

Kelly Mok

Not- Honorable Mathew Brower

Even Facebook Once

Discriminated off

Was Felena Hansen

Involved

From Hera Hub

With Lori Clark

Viviano

Judge Davis

King David

Judge Davis

Why'd You Want To See

Wasn't 18 Months

Of Naked Reels

12 Dyke Officers

Enough To Spin

Your Wheels

I Swear I Felt

You Blush

Through My Recording

You Are A Dyke

Too

Aren't You

Want My Yin

And I'm

Not A Sodomised Mom

For Your Yang

Nor Do I Want To

Out For A Pretty Penny

Pimped

You See

Looked You Up

On Google

Put You On Blast

To My Legal Team

Along With Atty

Bill Whitman

And All The F*****s

On Your Creepy List

We Know Attys

Stole

Baes From Ukraine

Parts

But We Know

You Stole

Joanna Bond's

Baes For Race

DNA

Actresses

Marissa Cheyenne Morris

Babies

We Know You Stole

Our Movie Stars

Kids

For Your Kinks

We Won't Be

Supporting

Anymore Of This Crime

It Stinks

Looked Up Your Picture

Even Younger

You Was Skenky

How Many Mommies

Did You Rape

And Murder

For Your Ghoul

Fetishes

Nazi Lady

No One Is Laughing

Now…

Heard Your Trans

Officers

Heard Your Pedophile

P.O.s

Deputies

Say They'd Sell

Their Kids For Lunch

And Ours

Must We Teach

Them Priorities

Or Is It Too Late

Too Late For Dykes

Judges

Too Late

Time Is Essential

Says Dr. Kazi

Thyme

Naturopath Said

Too Late Too Late

Queen Elizabeth

Is Gone

Died Not Long After

Covid 19

Corona

Coincidence

Perhaps Not

Was She Rationed

From Her Bitters

Prince Phillip Too

Or Did She Die Of

Heart Break

After He Died

Poisoned

On Fentanyl

Like Half The Monarch

Wanted Too

After She Blew

Princess Diana

Out Of Queen's Race

Night I Took Plan B

We Both Bled

All The Night

8 Hours Of Radio

Phone In Hand

Sheriff Listening

But My Angel

Lady Di

Never Came Back

And We Said

Long Live The Queen

And Pretended

It Never Happened

But Now She's Gone

Sir Paul

And The Judges Got

A Taste For Blood

The Brokers

And Dr's Too

And We've Had To Whistle

Blow

Much To Our Dismay

We'd Hoped

To Find A Backbone

But Got To The Top

Met Judge Davis

And We Knew

A Kink Agenda

For More Dr's

Won't Do My Dear

You Saw Marilyn's

Skirts Blow Up

Even Though

We Offered

You Time

Hurricane Hilary

Had Enough

She Might Not

Have Blown

Like Monica

My Cousin Kvon

Joked

However

Marilyn Must've

Had A Giggle

Peeing On All Those

Gays You Know

Some Mommies

In Detention

Said She Was

Their Mom

Some Said

A Grandmother

Henry Kissenger

Would Come

Take Us Home

For

Myth Of

Marilyn

Orphans Glowed

Said Dr. Anette

Incarcerated

For Her X-Husband's

Crimes

Can You Blame

Court Breeding

Vixens

Like Alex

Raised By Gay

Judge

And Atty

Stepdads

Jyoti

Light

When Sisters Were

Just Radiant

Children

Sparkling

When They Did

What They Did

Can You Blame US

If We Dated Boys

In College

We Were Cuter

They Said

At The College Academy

Maybe Too Many Dykes

That Year

Like In The Courts

So If We Sing

Real Breathy

Like Marilyn

And Shake Our Busts

You'll Give Our Kids

Back To US

Peace,

Pau,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal

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xanadontit · 2 years

Text

If my mom got therapy she could easily pay for a therapist’s kitchen remodel

Family shitshow but from MY side just to switch things up. Keep it fresh!

Background: my mom found out in her 40s that she was adopted at birth. She stumbled upon her adoption paperwork and was in shock. My grandpa was long gone and my grandma was dealing with dementia. Extended family didn’t offer much help and even my uncle said “They left the house on Christmas Eve to run an errand and came back with you. They said ‘this is your baby sister, NAME’ and we never talked about it again.” My uncle was 12.

My mom found her birth mother via a PI and it turns out she was the product of an extramarital affair. Her bio mom was married with three kids and when she told her husband she was pregnant by another man (obvious because he was stationed abroad) he told her to “deal with it” or he’d divorce her and take their children. Since it was 1955 the options were throw herself down some stairs or adoption, and she asked her MIL for help. The MIL got her in touch with my grandparents (she and my grandma were cousins) and they agreed to adopt the baby with a few stipulations: 1) closed adoption 2) my grandparents would pay all medical expenses 3) none of them would speak of this again. The birth mother agreed, and a few months later my grandparents picked her up from the hospital. A couple years later my grandparents moved to the mainland. The birth mother stayed with her husband until his death a few years ago and they went on to have one more child.

Mom has been in touch with her birth mother over the years, but it didn’t really pick up until her husband died. Apparently he was still salty about the affair 60 years later, but confessed on his deathbed that he made his wife give up a baby. Mom has met two of her half siblings and is touch with all of them. Three are still in Hawaii and one is just a little over an hour from my mom in CA. They have been enthusiastic about getting to know my mom and seem nice enough.

My mom wasn’t having much luck with finding her birth father; her bio mom’s husband was listed on the birth certificate and her bio mom couldn’t remember the guy’s last name (girl, I get it) giving my mom basically nothing to go on. 23andme gave her tons of matches on her bio mom’s side, but she recently got a hit on Ancestry. Her bio dad died last year. Through some FB sleuthing she found some siblings and reached out. She’s been talking to a half brother for a few days now. No one had any idea about her existence and she seems almost...offended? When I asked her what the hell she expected the man to say she admitted she didn’t know. “I had an affair with a married woman and she gave up our baby for adoption. No idea if it was a boy or a girl or where they live. Have fun!” Like, come on, Mom.

We’ve been invited to the birth mother’s 90th birthday party this month and we’re going. My stepdad has finals and E opted to stay home and let us enjoy the mother-daughter trip (lol he just doesn’t want to deal with my mom and I totally respect that) so it’ll be the two of us. And yes, we both have mixed feelings about visiting Hawaii knowing the native population has been vocal about not bringing Covid to the islands but this woman is turning 90 and we’re not going to have a lot of chances. Plus as she said “Well, I’m inviting you and will give you a pass for being from the mainland.” Lol.

Obviously some nerves are kicking in and we’ve been talking about the visit and my mom mentioned that she has an old photo of her birth dad from his obituary and is planning to show that to her birth mom and tell her the man is dead. I have no idea why - other than causing drama and hurting feelings in the name of “telling it like it is” - she is planning to do this. What does this serve? Who does this help? Can I not be there when this happens so none of these people think I condone this?

It’s so on brand for my mom to be able to turn a trip to one of the most relaxing places on earth into something anxiety-inducing. I know she’s also relying on me to be her emotional support daughter and the fun, outgoing one as we meet 40+ relatives and if I don’t perform my duties to her liking it’ll be a whole thing. She did spring for first class tickets though so it won’t be all terrible!

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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 10 months

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My birthday has been a Bittersweet event for the last several years. After my mom died my sister Terri promised to take care of me. But my poor sister was not the most stable person in the world and my other sisters and brother treated her horribly.

Then her husband committed suicide. And a few years after that her daughter committed suicide and after that she just pretty much gave up on her life. Every single year though without fail she would send me a birthday card with a little bit of money in it.

Some years it was $20, some years it was $5. But she always said something.

The last birthday she was alive for she arranged for a surprise visit for my brother whom I had not seen in 20 years. She also gave me two bags brimming with stuff from the dollar store. Some of it I used, some of it decorates my classroom, and some of it I keep in the backseat of my car and have had for the last 7 years because it just makes me feel close to her.

Another aspect of my birthday is that I share it with my friend Tina. I have known Tina since we were in second grade. She was a year older than me but she got held back. Tina looked like Dustin from Stranger Things. She had the same type of mouth and teeth problem.

She didn't have any friends. It was pretty much just me and her and her sisters. We went to prom together w/ some other girls and the girls got really upset that Tina wanted to be in the prom pictures with us but I insisted. I'd give anything if I had those pictures now.

Many many years later, after high school and college, and years after her dad's death, Tina confided in me that he had sexually & physically abused her, her whole life.

Because of this she was never in a relationship with a man--- or with anyone to be honest ---and only configed this in 1 other person. I'm not even sure if you told her mom.

Well her two younger sisters went away to school and eventually got married and had kids in their own Tina stayed with her mom and took care of her after she had 2 heart attacks. Together they remodeled her house until it looked like something out of a magazine. They both put in so much hard work.

And then Tina died of covid.

Tina's mom sold the house and moved to North TX to live with Tina's youngest sister.

So now every year my birthday reminds me that it is Tina's too and I'm here and she isn't.

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dwarfysays · 1 year

Text

Friday, March 31, 2023

I have to add the date, because Tumblr doesn’t.

February 25, 2023 my mother dies from COVID and lung cancer. She lived 17 months beyond her prognosis. So, I suppose we should be grateful for the extra time we had with her. For sure the first 15 of those 17 could be considered actual quality time. Her health took a steep decline when she contracted RSV. She didn’t really recover well enough before getting COVID. That was it. Lung cancer + COVID is pretty much the end. That same day Igthor went bat shit crazy on my brothers trying to break into the house.

Igthor= psychotic sibling that sibling “C” has a second restraining order against.

That same day a prayer novena was commenced for our mother. We continued the novena daily until the 9th day. We do a prayer on the 40th day after Mom’s death.

Igthor was arrested and released a day later on bail. Later charges were dropped against her due to the complicating factor of our mother’s death.

March 13th we had the viewing and memorial. Mom looked gray inside the coffin. It was all surreal. We each said a eulogy. Mine was of being sorry and being grateful. It’s worth saying we all should be grateful to C for caring for Mom and Dad these past couple of years. C is the reason Mom lasted as long as she did. Both our parents attended mass every Sunday until they were house bound. Then they had somebody come to the house to hold private mass with them.

That day two of our 1st degree maternal cousins came for the services. Annalynn and her husband John and Marianne. We have met Annalyn and John before. It was a first meeting for Marianne. Both of them are very sweet, very nice. They were to stay in town until the 16th.

On March 14th, we buried our mom. The funeral mass was at the church our parents faithfully attended until the end. Mom’s casket was set by the altar. Because of the restraining order and her atrocious behavior the day Mom passed, Igthor was not allowed to attend. But, with the help of close family friends she was allowed to. They limited her to the sound proof childrens’ room to watch mass. I think it’s fair that she got to say goodbye to our mom. We just did not want her to turn the funeral proceedings into a circus with her antics and over the top drama.

From there, the funeral procession motorcade made its way to the nearby veteran’s cemetery. That’s Mom’s final resting place. It’s worth noting that it rained heavily that day. Under rainy skies, the priest made his funeral sermon and we each laid our hands on the coffin to say goodbye to Mom. C stood beside me as we kept our hands on the casket. I placed my arms around her to comfort her. The grandchildren were also around the casket grieving. Then came Igthor bowing down in grief. C stepped away and sat at a nearby covered area. A nephew came over to try and comfort Igthor, but she told him to “get the fuck away from me”. I looked over at the other nieces and nephews and they stood in silent disapproval of Igthor. The cemetery representative told us that we needed to leave as they will take Mom’s remains over to the burial site. There will also be another funeral burial coming right after us.

March 15th, hanging out with the cousins in the best tourist sites. It continued to rain off and on that day as well. We started at Liberty Station so they can get a taste of popular fare here. Then off to the Cabrillo monument tidal pools and museum above. It was the first time Marianne had seen the Pacific Ocean state side. Despite the weather they enjoyed the outing

The La Jolla “Childrens Pool” was the next stop. We watched the harbor seals and their pups for a while.

Final stop was the Sky Deck at the Del Mar Heights center. One of my cousins confided in me that her husband has Alzheimer’s. I asked about a support group or friends she could rely upon. They live in Minnesota. She said they have their church group for moral support. I was wondering if there were groups knowledgeable in the disease that could help her out. She said that there will come a time when her husband will need full time care and that he do NOT want to be in a care facility. That means she will be his care provider/wet nurse. Cousin said if she has to stop working it would be financially devastating if they stayed here in the US. So the plan is to retire in the PI where the two of them can live off of his retirement and she can fully care for him. He is a nice guy, from what I can see. But he is at least 15 years her senior. He came to the PI to find her, marry her and bring her to the states. Was his original intent was to find and marry a future care giver? That makes me sick to my stomach. Anyways whatever path they choose, they have family and friends to help. I don’t know if she confided in my mom before she died or even any of my siblings. I am sad for her and wish her circumstances would greatly improve. Best case scenario he passes peacefully in his sleep before he becomes incapacitated by Altzeimers. That may seem cruel, but equally as cruel is to force his much younger wife to watch him degenerate and have to wipe his ass to his last agonizing breath. She has family and friends for what that’s worth. At the end of the day it will be just poor cousin with and old man she has to feed and bathe towards the end of his life.

I failed to mention our father through all of this. He’s broken up about this. But he braved the elements in a wheel chair none the less to pay last respects to his life partner and love. Mom was everything to him. She carried a lot of the burdens of raising a family for him. She managed their bills and assets for him. He was diagnosed with cancer first and it was stage 4 prostate cancer! It had already spread to his spine. We were shocked, we were already starting to grieve for Dad. Mom was looking over him and caring as best she could for him until she got sick. My how fortunes have turned! A few years ago, we were bracing ourselves for losing our dad before our mom. Now Dad visits Mom’s grave.

#grieving #loss #rip mom #mother #father #family #loss in the family

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lisa-yuri · 1 year

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I just want to know when does the suffering end?

All my life I have been abused by my family. Bullied in Primary School. Bullied in High School. Bullied in University. I literally had no one. Grew up with only my mothers side of the family. Didn't know my father till I was in university, even then he barely speaks to me. I have worked harder than any of my family members to get away from them. I was able to get a scholarship paying for my university fees. I volunteered most of my days in University, as I did not want to be in my Resident building because of all the bullying. I was working and studying and contiuing volunteering throughout my first qualification. I then graduated and took the money I had saved to rent a place by myself so I could finally have peace in the place I live. In the job I had after university the owner of the company tried to get something sexual with me and I refused and lost the job. Got another job but it was all the way across the country. Used the money I still had to pay for moving etc. The man tries the same thing with me. I then go back to the city where I was staying before moving to try figure things out. Ended up having to stay at my aunt (who is as bad as my mother) because I ran out of money. While staying at my aunts place I was working in a learnership and also started studying my second qualification at university. So I had to do my learnership qualification + university qualification + going to a 9-5 (bare in mind still earning a stipend as it is a learnership). With all that and my aunt treating me badly while staying with her. Her husband ended up touching me inappropriately then I moved to stay in a different area. Then Covid happened. The company I was at would keep people on learnerships for years not hiring them, even up to 6 years. I was applying for other jobs but had to stay in that learnership for 3 years. I had to then move back to my mother as I couldn't pay for accommodation or anything because of all this. So I am back at the place I have been trying to escape, still being abused. I had to deal with depression since University and it got worse early 2021 as I started thinking about and planning to unalive myself as I don't want to do this anymore. I have no happy memories, I am tired and I really don't see when I will actually get to a place where I will enjoy my life. I have to constantly live in fear that my mother will come to my room and get on me for the smallest thing. My cousin has been living with us and she told me how she did not eat for over a week because my mom went off on her for eating 'too much' and she has been eating a normal amount my brother eats the most. And for her to treat my brother better than me and my cousin as 'he is a boy'. That is her reason for the difference in treatment. Never mind how she always wants to tell me and my cousin what is wrong with ourselves, our bodies and how we need to be better. Or how me and my cousin have to do everything in the house and be the best. While my brother gets to do nothing and be mediore as well and be praised for it. My mom had me when she was 19 and I wish she had just aborted me. My father left her for someone else. She then met my step father who is my brothers father and he died sometime ago. I had told my other family members about this how I am treated but either they don't believe or they don't care. I thought about making my own 13 reasons why and writing in detail about each specific one, but I would actually end up having over 26 reasons why.

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ramblingeekette · 2 years

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Found out our neighbor Lefty passed away. We had a suspicion after the ambulance took her the other day but her family confirmed today.

She was an absolute hoot and delight to have as a neighbor. Her husband Gene was too, he passed away 11 months ago to the day of her passing.

The neighborhood doesn't feel right anymore. Grew up here, been renting the house from Mom and Pops for sometime since they moved up north few years back cuz it's all I can afford.

Past 3 years nearly all my neighbors I've know my whole life have moved or died. Rosie is in the nursing home still but no longer is present. Her dementia accelerated after Kevin found her the last time and they had to move her for her own safety. Her sister said she's started talking to people not there, so it won't be long. Her kids sold her house and the new young family is kind but quiet.

Other neighbor just around the block passed last month and their partner is looking into moving. Neighbor behind us passed, the great nice and nephew bough the house and they're nice but won't really talk to anybody.

Eileen next door passed away around start of Covid. her kids sold the place last year but new neighbors keep to themselves.

Pretty much just Mary Lou around back of the block and then Sharon and John few houses down left. Home just doesn't feel like home anymore without everyone. Small town, and when we moved in in 97 it was very much the Get To Know Your Neighbors attitude still and all ours ended up being good family friends for years. We all supported each other and helped each other with so many different things and now there's almost none of us left from that group.

They all kinda adopted my brother and I because we were same age as their kids or grandkids depending what neighbor it was. Only had like 5 other kids in the area lol.

Just feels very sad tonight, looking out at the neighborhood after I heard the news made it very much feel like the last little bits of that childhood this is home feeling have slipped away.

#personal #it was so unexpected #yeah shes been having health issues but shes always bounced bsck tougher and with more wisecracks than before #and i feel so bad for her family.#Gene passed last October then one of their kids passed unexpectedly in February...and now her #just #damn #the heart is heavy tonight

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vampiremonday · 5 months

Text

Loosening tethers - personal stuff/thoughts since Thanksgiving

mentions of past death and other stuff

One of the first posts I remember making on this iteration of my tumblr was about my dad being in the hospital. It was 2019, and it was really scary. There was something life-threatening wrong with him, and I'd had plans to go see a friend of mine while she was visiting Gatlinburg with her family. I had to make a decision of whether or not to go, even though by the time I left, it seemed he would recover well.

I'd been coordinating with my mother over the phone. Even at the best of times, my mom wasn't really able to do errands that involved long-distance walking without something like a shopping cart to lean into.

I remember thinking that my dad really needed to make it through this. Without him, my mom wouldn't have had any quality of life whatsoever, due to the nature of her disability and access to any kind of financial help.

What I didn't know at the time was that my mom's body was probably already betraying her, more than she felt her lifelong disability already had. My dad did make it for the rest of her life, not even two years later.

It seems like longer than two years, because time in my life is divided into jobs and terms more than years and months.

I was in the process of emailing with the job I got in Japan, trying to find slightly more stable employment and realizing I had heard back from them but it got lost in the chaos when my dad was hurt.

When I was in Japan, my dad had to sometimes remind me to call my mom, too. I loved her, but for some reason I found it easier to talk to him. I didn't know there wouldn't be more time. We never do, do we?

I heard about what COVID was probably going to end up becoming in December 2019. I had already made the decision not to renew the Japan job for now, even though they asked us to. I needed to, for licensure reasons, find a teaching job in the US For a couple more full-years. I didn't know that COVID was really going to take a full year away.

I also didn't know that I'd be grateful, because it was her last year.

My mom died in December 2020.

I got a job in August 2021. I got another job in August 2022. Finally had the experience taken care of when I finished the school year in May 2023.

Two years went by fast. For the first school year, my dad and I talked a lot. The other person I had communication with from home was, occasionally, Jeff our neighbor. He's my dad's friend, probably his best and most like-minded friend. Even now, I feel like I would consider him more like a step-parent than my actual step-mother.

My dad got remarried in November 2022. He had been spending time with the woman who'd become my stepmother since early 2022. They knew each other before, and she'd attended his church at least since the death of her own husband before my mom's passing. I know I'd met her before her previous husband died. I remember their names but less their faces from years ago.

The thing is, despite it probably not seeming abrupt or sudden to my dad, I was home the first full week of October 2022. I only just got the sense that my dad and my future step-mother were considering each other romantically because she'd started buying dog-shirts for Charlie.

They got married on November 2nd or 3rd.

This meant that I went from having the relationship I'd had with my dad for years (both before and after my mom's death) in October to having this totally new, weirdly filtered thing at the end of November with scarcely a week's notice before they got married in a small two-witness, one-officiant ceremony at the church.

Ever since then, each time I have been back to my home area, it has been one performance after another. My stepmother makes overtures toward friendliness, but they are almost always couched in trying to confer with me about how to buy something my dad might like. Neither my dad nor I care that much about that kind of thing. She also bought me some pearl jewelry that first trip home. I do make it a point to wear them on special occasions. They were thoughtful and they're Actually Nice whereas most my jewelry on-hand is costumey. Fine.

But every. single. time. I have been home with the exception of when I had to come right after their first anniversary as a result of getting into a car accident and needing to shop for a new car, my stepmother has found some reason to get angry or ~hurt~ about something pertaining to me. Either it is directly related to my behavior or it is related to my dad spending too long one-on-one with me and leaving her out of something without a play-by-play often enough. Every. Time.

It's weird and uncomfortable. It's a kind of jealousy that is entirely inappropriate to have about a father and daughter.

And really, what it has done is completely take my sense of "home" away from me.

My dad still owns the house my parents bought in 2009. It's been a long and arduous process to empty it of anything we want to keep so it can have an estate sale and then a sale of the house itself. Sometime back in the warmer months, I was there and went by to get something. I started crying and couldn't stop for over an hour as we were leaving. I realized that something was over in that moment that hadn't been before that moment. Or, at least, it hadn't sunk in.

For some reason, my stepmother wanted me there when they were looking at houses to finally buy one together after they sold her old one. I don't even know why, now. Something bothers her every time I'm there.

And the fact is, my stepmother is carrying around a ton of damage and trauma from both her childhood and her past adult life. She also has a child she has a strained relationship with, and I'm sure she's jealous and it bothers her that, for the most part, my dad and I actually like each other.

But it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

My dad is doing his best. He tries to call her out on her bullshit when she's being unfair. And it is acute instances. The problem is that the acute instances that she would like to sweep under the rug and pretend never happened happen each time I come up there. It's just exhausting, and whether she does it by intention or not, it feels like ultimately, she's going to "win." I'll just stop coming. Just stop intruding.

And it breaks my heart, because my relationship with my dad isn't at that point. However, he is determined to stay married to her and determined to do the best he can with me. I just think that this might mean that it's finally time to accept the life that many adults have with their parents they still talk to. Seeing him a week a year, if that. Trying to have my own life, separate and detached.

I haven't ever been able to do that.

When my mom died, on top of all of the grief, there was the sudden freedom that I was no longer expected to settle down in a 30 mile radius so as to avoid breaking her heart. When I got a job six hours away, my dad and I cried a little but it wasn't the end of the world.

But now, it doesn't matter than I live only three hours away. If I need him to, they'll make the trip to the halfway point to meet me for this or that, but everything includes her now, and if she feels left out for a few hours, it's something for her to hold ever him even though he doesn't take it or let it go, and it's just... crap.

It doesn't matter, though. I can't be responsible for his relationship with her. The problem, then, is that I don't know how to maintain our relationship anymore. I want to, and so I know that if and when I make an adjustment to only being able to be in his presence for a few days a year, it'll break something between us and for him. But I feel like he, unintentionally, broke it first.

I got an email about a job in Japan. It might be a good thing. It would mean seeing him in person significantly less. I am hoping and praying that the chips will fall where they should, but if they fall toward me going to Japan, it's going to suck to tell him.

Before, I would have told him already, but now... I don't want him to borrow grief for something that isn't happening, but I have to grieve something that is.

#personal tag real name tba

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paracosmfanfiction · 7 months

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Half Sister

In April 2021, my mother died from Covid-19. Her “last words” if you will were typed on her phones notes. I deliberately haven’t read it since, but to paraphrase she said

“I have a husband and babies that still need my help raising them. Don’t let me die. God keep me safe amebz”

Her mistyped Amen haunted me, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the beginning of her end.

Fast-forward a couple days: we were trying to figure out what to put on her grave marker, when It’s A Wonderful Life came up. (It was her favorite movie) My oldest sister piped up that it was a horrible idea, because my mom had a Miserable life (in her eyes) I yelled at her and said Obviously not, her last words were begging to stay alive! This conversation is the beginning of the year that reduced our relationship to shambles.

What do you do when someone gatekeeps your mother? “I had her 5 years before dad, thus she belongs to me.” She acts like she’s the only one who knew her, like her experience is the only canon one. She went as far as to say that our mom would’ve been happier with less kids, and she would’ve been fine with just three of us. Those younger siblings are more mine than hers. For the first time I considered her my half sister, at 20 years old. Now she has the audacity to say she’s scared we won’t let her near our future children. That decision was made a long time ago. The answer is no. If she has any reason to believe I’d be happier without my children she might tell them.

#vent post

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kaylaclay · 8 months

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My name is Kayla Clay. I am a 32-year-old single mom and entrepreneur from Illinois. I joined Tumblr back in 2015, but this happens to be my first post. I had my child six years ago, and when she was two, I had a fallout with my husband. I literally raised my daughter alone, because her dad avoided child support by traveling out of the country. To make matters worse, my mom, who was my only support, died of COVID two years ago. I was extremely devastated, as my mom was the only person I had to lean on. After my mom's death, I fell into deep depression. I had the greatest anxiety and depression I had ever experienced. I suffered from anxiety and depression for six good months before going to see my psychiatrist. He prescribed some meds for me because my anxiety was high. I had nightmares, always forgot things, and was always scared. It was very crippling. The funny thing was that these meds prescribed for me didn't seem to work. I used these meds for a year and three months, but I was never getting better. Now fast forward to two months ago; I was going through a website when an ad popped up. I thought it was just a regular ad, but this ad was talking about psychedelics. I was eager to know what psychedelics were because I had heard a friend talk about them. I researched psychedelics and found out that they had some effects on anxiety, depression, ADHD, PTSD, autism, and insomnia. I also found out that the usage of these psychedelics needed to be controlled. I also saw that they were illegal in my country, but the fact that they worked was what made me click the ad. The ad then redirected me to an Instagram account; Mycoepics was the account name. I followed the account and decided to ask questions. I was told that due to the restrictions in my country, I could only get them shipped to me discreetly. I asked about the dosages and was told I would have to microdose. The psychedelics I was referred to were magic shrooms. I decided to take the risk of ordering them, knowing well that they were restricted in my country and that I could be scammed as well. After about four days, I received the shrooms. I started using them following the guide Mycoepics had given me. The very first trial was rough as I hallucinated. After about thirty minutes, the hallucinations stopped. I felt relaxed for the first time in years. I went on and continued using them and saw remarkable changes. I went ahead and asked my psychiatrist if I could continue to use shrooms instead of the regular meds. To my greatest surprise, he agreed. I went ahead and ordered more from mycoepics on Instagram and continued to use them. After about three weeks, I felt and knew that my anxiety and depression had disappeared. I went on to ask Mycoepics if I could withdraw since I was healed. He said yes, that there were no issues with withdrawal. I stopped using the shrooms and there were zero side effects from withdrawal. I had to go to my psychiatrist to confirm if I had been healed completely; his reply was positive. It was then that I realized that the cure was there all along but we didn't seem to see it. I have never felt better since I broke free completely from the shackles of anxiety and depression. Now I work normally and am currently giving my daughter the life she deserves. I am sharing my story so someone going through what I went through can see it and be inspired and make the right choice.

#anxiety #depression #shroooms #adhd #ptsd #psychedelique

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