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inknose · 4 years

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mdzs read diary part IV, the end

It’s inspiring how much self care wwx is gonna finally get now that his husband will go along with whatever he does, so he’s gotta look out for lwj’s well being if not his own. that is emphatically the STUFF

dragging my hands down I face as I read this, after all these chapters of getting up close and personal with ghouls bleeding from every orifice, slaying ancient beasts, rebelling against the entire cultivation world, the two of them are absolutely paralyzed by middle school crush sleepover math

chicken

he actually drew kissy doodles .... he....

IDK I THINK I JUST DOCUMENTED THIS PART CUZ I WAS STILL SCREAMING you cant expect me to have very useful things to say at this point

this is torture you are both so mushy you are so GONE

This part really stood out to me, it’s an attitude I feel like wwx implies with his inner narration a few times but most clearly says here: he’s not one for allowing himself to exaggerate how bad his circumstances are/could be even a little bit - he’s already lived through some extreme low points and found a way to keep going, so he never makes sweeping statements about what he couldn’t live without (Inner JingYi: you’re supposed to say you’d be lost without him here!!!) Instead he seems to accept as a given that being alive doesn’t guarantee him any pleasantness or joy at all, and as a result his feelings toward being in TRUE LOVE are surprisingly pragmatic, but also colored with such gratitude. There are a lot of things in the novel that struck me, like this, as being just a little to the left of familiar tropes/sentiments, and were more touching for it. Whether it be the influence of culture difference as opposed to what I’m used to reading in most western romance stories, or MXTX’s unique outlook, or a combination of both, it was really refreshing and made me pause over it. Not “I can’t imagine living without you” but “I could be living without you, but instead I get to be with you and I think that’s the best thing that could happen.”

ADJFDKFJ THE UST BEING SO STRONG THAT EVEN THE VILLAIN COMMENTS ON IT IN THE MIDDLE OF EXECUTING HIS EVIL PLANS IS ONE OF THOSE THINGS THAT WILL NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME LAUGH MY ASS OFF. hes like god damn! here I thought I had problems

it was at this moment that I realized we were doing this Now... I’m still recovering. What a scene. I am so glad I saw the most incredible fanart soon afterwards, bc the fact that someone has already drawn a perfect comic of this part means I don’t have to

I love you so much, you are so annoying, you are perfect... I like how he’s been experiencing openly requited love for all of ten minutes but he’s already figured out how to weaponize it to piss people off

doing!!! his!!! job!!!!!

ahh... it’s a really good story. JGY is a great character. One of the most interesting differences for me between drama watching vs. novel reading experience is that without an actor to bat his vulnerable doe eyes at you and smile faintly with his cute dimples, the book does not go much out of its way to try to lull the reader into a false sense of security around him or *endear* him to you the way the show does. But just by seeing events through wei wuxian’s POV, its still enough to evoke pity or understanding towards him. The overall impression is a bit more detached though, there’s less emphasis on the spectacle of how he could manipulate everyone closest to him and more of a general feeling of resigned tragedy that everyones the worst on this bitch of an earth.

I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU FOR EVEN ONE MORE SECOND!!!!

I clearly paused to take note of less and less parts at the end & the extras due to: a) too excited to reach the end b) too spicy to photograph and c) too sleepy cuz I kept reading in the middle of the night. but I absolutely took the time for Bro We Are Teens appreciation corner:

I’d absolutely read 40 more extra chapters of their monster-of-the-week field trip antics.

god... poor Jin Ling now basically has to deal with divorced parents that talk shit about each other to him whenever he is saying with one of them. except they are both his uncles. just a disasterhood of all uncles from start to finish. AUUUGH wei wuxian and jiang cheng have fucked me up completely, I dream of them reconciling but I also REFUSE to believe it would ever be easy. let me know if theres a fanfic that absolutely tortures you for decades before they hug

HAHAHA oh no this man ain’t making it to immortality thats for damn sure. HE’S JUST GONNA TRY AS HARD AS HE CAN HIS WHOLE LIFE NOT TO LOOK AT HIM BUT THEYRE *MARRIED* SDLKFJSF ohhhh it’s too funny, like... the mundane domestic family drama IN the fantastical swords and sorcery setting is what really ratchets up these things from amusing to fucking hilarious I think

aaaa the end... final random thoughts? No not final, I would like to please keep discussing at length and exhaustively, all the time please - CQL has gotta be one of the best TV adaptations I’ve seen. ANY adaptation of anything would be lucky to be so good!! reading the novel has just made me appreciate it even more.

- I don’t think I can do justice to what I find most fascinating about comparing the two versions briefly, to do that I need to get drunk and ramble at my friends for hours but... the condensed version is something like this. Really all the significant differences between the two versions (besides the ones which can be attributed to censorship and therefore aren’t worth discussing) are a side effect of the structure of how the story is told - there’s barely anything changed arbitrarily. Aside from having a cold opening, the drama sticks to a very linear version of the story, and I think for a TV show or film, that’s probably the best way to do it. We see everything, we get shocked and tricked and betrayed and surprised along with the characters, we feel the biggest impact at the climactic scenes having experienced all the build-up. The novel on the other hand is not only much more non-linear in WHEN we learn bits and pieces of information, but that information is also obfuscated under wei wuxian’s multiple layers of Unreliable Narratoritis, which are as follows: 1) difficulty remembering things because of personality/avoiding painful memories/actual memory loss, 2) No Homo Goggles still on, and 3) a wry sense of humor that makes the reader unsure of how much they can trust his attitude toward things, especially near the beginning. The experience of reading is a puzzle the reader has to mentally piece together through all of the above listed camouflage, and the puzzle itself is a three-sided mystery: One - How Bad of a guy was Wei WuXian really, and how exactly did all the bad stuff in his life go down; Two - wangxian epic pride & prejudice gambits; Three - political murder mystery. (I love stories like this btw... though I fully admit I’m glad I watched first this time bc it might have taken me a long time to tackle otherwise.) Because of this, where the drama wants to pull you in and submerge you in all the most potent emotional parts, the novel in direct contrast deliberately side-steps around these things and asks that you hurt yourself by filling in the blanks. In fact the more intense emotions and painful memories involved, whether it be his relationship with jiang yanli, his DEATH, the darkest days of war times etc, the more the novel evasively withholds details. I actually really like both styles of storytelling but each one is obviously way better suited to its medium. ANYWAY.... THATS BASICALLY WHERE MY BRAINS AT WHILE IM READING GAY SWORD WIZARD BOOKS

- The extras are so saturated with domestic married bliss that it’s a good thing I stopped taking pictures because I’d just take a picture of every page. this is too much for me to take... I did jump the gun a few times and read a few fanfics while I was still mid-read of the book (I tried to hold out but alas I am mortal) and at one point after finishing I was like “wow what fic was it in where lwj says something cute and wwx kisses him in public but they’re in the corner of the restaurant so no one really sees... OH NO WAIT that was actually in there.” and ... and that’s the LEAST OF IT... *stares into the distance* theyre married wow

- I ofc couldn’t help but see a few vague blogs beforehand so honestly I was braced for something like, wildly ooc for the sake of porn to happen in the extras... I definitely appreciate how the incense burner porn interludes could be uhhh a lot for many people and not my personal cup of tea in terms of smut however [here follows the words of a poisonous frog who has dwelt her whole life in the rainforests of BL] the concept is also surprisingly SWEET SDFLKJF like wwx sees lan wangji’s darkest mixed-up violent teenage fantasies and he’s just like aww babe you had a crush on me!! just... good for them

- I swear I’m not gonna rehash every cute married thing they do but wei wuxian grading papers in the tub........................rEALLY GOT ME

- I want to Draw - ok thats enough if I keep going I’ll just write “wei wuxian grading papers in the tub” seven more times probably

#mdzs readthru #this obviously has many spoilers

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mrsimoshen · 5 years

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I’m Your Private Dancer

Title: I’m Your Private Dancer

Link: I'm Your Private Dancer on AO3

Square filled: Human Cas

Ship: Castiel/Michael

Rating: Mature

Tags: Human AU, human!Cas, human!michael, Prostitution/male escort Cas, Client Michael, Lingerie, Anal Plug, implied cross-dressing, Anal Sex

Summary: Male escort Castiel meets a client.

Word count: 2738

created for @spnkinkbingo

tagging: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell, @silvaxus, @blakechaos08, @princerusso, @masterpieceofturkeycleverness @ajcza, @buggre-alle-thisss-ineffability, @brieflymaximumprincess, @captain-winchester-27

Fic below the cut:

All the men come in these places And the men are all the same You don't look at their faces And you don't ask their names You don't think of them as human You don't think of them at all You keep your mind on the money Keeping your eyes on the wall

Castiel Novak snorts as Tina’s voice croons on. He’s always thought the dancer in that song was a metaphor for something else, but it’s a bit of an irony that this song would come up on the radio just as he’s getting ready for an appointment.

Unlike the narrator of the song, however, Castiel doesn’t keep his clients at arm’s length. He knows the name of each, knows their faces, their voices, just as he knows the preferences of every man he regularly meets. Of course, it’s about the money – Castiel would be lying if he claimed otherwise, and he’s many things, but not a liar – but if he didn’t enjoy what he does, he would have chosen a different career path a long time ago.

Today, he’s wearing silky thigh-highs and a garter belt along with a pair of low-cut panties and a slinky camisole, all in darkest black with green lace accents. His client likes it when he can easily slide into him, so Cas took care in opening himself up earlier, and now he can feel the familiar weight of the glass plug in his hole. He’s half-hard from all that, and will probably remain so all throughout the evening, but his client enjoys that, too.

Cas hums along to the refrain as he carefully applies just a bit of make-up. It’s very subtle, almost unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know the trick, but it makes his eyes appear larger, their blue more intense. It’s not really necessary for the client he’s meeting, but it’s a habit, and he likes the effect.

Make-up done, Castiel gets up – shivering a bit as the weight of the plug inside him makes itself known again and silk brushes against his skin – and walks to his cupboard to select this evening’s wardrobe.

He has a wide range of choice, there – the jeans and shirts he prefers for when he doesn’t work, tailored suits and leather pants and jackets, fine loafers and heavy biker boots, even a few dresses for one particular client he’s since stopped seeing. Throwing the dresses out seemed wasteful, however, so Castiel carefully stored them in their bags and let them live in his cupboard.

Today, he picks out a suit he knows is a favorite of his client. “It brings out your eyes,” he’s always told, and since it’s surprisingly comfortable (which really should be expected, it was made-to-measure and cost a pretty penny, it should be comfortable), Castiel enjoys wearing it, too.

Suit put on and shoes set to the side, Cas stretches out on his couch and lets himself day-dream about how the evening might progress.

His clients all treat him well, mutual respect the most important aspect of the whole deal – if Cas feels disrespected as a human being once because of the service he provides, people find themselves permanently removed from his client list fast. And Castiel also has the connections to ruin a person’s life in interesting ways.

The man he’s meeting today has a taste for European food, the authentic version and not the Americanized deal, but it’s anyone’s guess what nation’s cuisine he’ll be treated to tonight. What they’ll do after that… well, Castiel is horny, so he hopes he’ll be taken to his client’s home after and get fucked a few times, but it’s equally likely his lover for the night will take him to some art show or concert or even the movies after dinner. It’s all happened before. (Castiel’s favorite memory is the time this particular man fucked him, slow and intimate, in a VIP box at the opera where, in theory, anyone who looked into the shadows of their box could have seen them. He spent almost the whole opera on his lover’s cock, and that night was spectacular, once they were in the privacy of his client’s home.)

But he knows the man’s tastes in that area, too, and there’s no opera shown tonight that might catch his fancy. He’s not quite as up-to-date on the movies, and there’s always an art gallery somewhere who’s having a show.

Cas smiles as his phone gives a quiet chirp to alert him to an incoming text message. None of his clients know his actual address, they just know the address of the private, guarded parking lot where he habitually leaves his car. He needs ten minutes from his apartment to that parking lot, and he’s told his clients to inform him when they’ve arrived. Those ten minutes waiting sometimes yield... interesting results.

I’m here, darling.

Castiel slips his shoes on and grabs his keys, phone, wallet, and coat. It’s cold outside, it’s only February, so he adds his favorite scarf to the ensemble and leaves his apartment.

His client’s car is idling in its spot when Castiel opens the door and slides into the passenger seat, and he’s very glad about the warmth enveloping him.

“Hello, Michael.”

“Hello, Castiel,” his client returns with a warm smile and leans over the stick shift and hand brake to greet him with a soft brush of lips on lips. Castiel smiles and angles his head into the soft kiss. Michael is one of the affectionate clients, and Castiel likes the gentle touches an evening with Michael always includes. It feels a little as if they’re truly a couple out on a date night.

Michael waits until Castiel has put on his seat belt before pulling out into the traffic. He’s one of those drivers in whose car Castiel thinks he could actually fall asleep if the distance was long enough. He’s not usually one for sleeping in anyone’s car, an accident that cost him a childhood friend having left a deep impression, but Michael is calm and controlled in everything he does (unless he’s fucking Castiel in the privacy of his own bed. Then, there’s only wild passion in him.) and he always weaves through traffic so smoothly Castiel never felt anything but safe in his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Wait and see, darling,” Michael chuckles and makes a turn. “I do hope you enjoy tapas.”

Cas does, especially if they’re served in a small restaurant that looks as if it was imported from Spain, beams, stones and furniture. There are large pieces of jamón serrano hanging from the ceiling, the Spanish music in the background is just low enough to not interrupt a conversation but lend a certain ambience to the whole restaurant, and the food is perfect. Castiel enjoys every bite he’s served, enjoys the sour wine that he’d usually never pick (he has a sweet tooth when it comes to wine) but that fits perfectly with the dishes they’re served.

Michael, who sticks to sparkling water, takes a single sip on Castiel’s insistence and agrees with him with a smile, licking his lips. “It does compliment the food very well,” he hums. Castiel shivers a little at the tone of voice.

Michael surprises him by driving to his own apartment after dinner. When he notices Cas’ questioning look, he grins.

“I thought we could watch a movie at my place,” he murmurs, using an upcoming red light to stroke a hand up Castiel’s leg slowly. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got beneath that suit for me today, darling.”

Castiel shivers a little and lets his legs fall a little wider with a smile.

“Would you like to guess?” he invites, and Michael laughs and pulls his hand back as the light changes to green.

“Let me fantasize a moment longer.”

Michael’s apartment is in one of the more expensive parts of town, and Castiel has enough information about his lover of the night to know that Michael works for a high-end law firm and comes from a rich family background. Castiel himself is rather expensive, and he knows from experience Michael has a taste for the finer things in life. Which is probably a compliment in itself.

“Get comfortable,” Michael invites him with a smile, taking Castiel’s coat to hang it up neatly. “Would you like a drink, or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” Castiel requests with a smile. He wanders further into the apartment as Michael goes to convince his high-end coffee machine to produce the dark liquid and decides to be just a bit of a tease. He leaves his shoes neatly by the living room doorway, then drops his tie on the way to the couch. By the time he’s stretched out on the ridiculously comfortable piece of furniture, his shirt is unbuttoned just enough so that a teasing hint of green lace is visible against his skin.

Michael doesn’t notice at first, concentrating on the coffee cups in his hands, but when he sits down and hands Castiel his coffee, his eyes widen.

“Oh, you little tease,” he breathes with a grin. Castiel laughs and sips his coffee.

“Now, I would be a tease if I didn’t plan to deliver,” he corrects calmly. “I very much intend to deliver, dear Michael.”

“I very much appreciate that,” Michael sinks down onto the couch himself, close enough to Castiel he can feel the other man’s body warmth. “Any preference on the movie?”

Castiel glances over Michael’s pre-selection and decides on one he’s already seen but could stand to watch a second time. He’s guessing they won’t see the end of the movie, not if he starts seducing Michael as soon as they have emptied their coffee mugs. Michael always lets Castiel make the first move, always lets Castiel decide how far they go, and Castiel appreciates it. (Once, he’d told Michael to ravish him, make him forget everything around them. He’s definitely going to do that again someday, because that night ranks top amongst those he’ll never forget.)

For now, he’s content to lean against Michael’s side and sip his coffee as they watch the beginning of the movie. It’s really good coffee, and Michael knows by now how Castiel prefers his, and so it’s not to be rushed but savored.

Half an hour into the movie, Castiel finally sets his empty mug down on the coffee table next to Michael’s and stretches before turning to Michael. He softly brushes his mouth over Michael’s, flicks his tongue out just a little bit, and Michael sighs and cups his face, pulls him into a deeper kiss.

They take their time, kisses turning deeper and hungrier slowly. Castiel ends up straddling Michael’s legs, almost in his lap as they kiss. Michael groans when Castiel leans back to further unbutton his shirt, revealing more of the black silk and green lace beneath.

“Touch me,” he invites in a rough whisper, and Michael’s hands almost fly to his sides, stroke up over black silk reverently.

“Get rid of the shirt,” Michael murmurs, his eyes on the way his hands look on the silk. Castiel laughs and complies, and then gasps when gentle fingers rub and tease at one of his nipples through the material. Michael alternates between stroking soft silk and rougher lace over the sensitive nub until Castiel is biting his lower lip and breathing noticeably faster.

“I want to see you,” Michael murmurs, finally showing mercy on the nipple he was playing with. Permission to touch given, he’s slipping back into the dominant role he usually prefers when they meet. Castiel smiles and slides off his lap, taking a few steps back to let Michael see all of him. He takes his time undoing his belt, the button on his pants and the zipper, and when he finally lets the garment fall, Michael moans and presses a hand against his own crotch.

“Like what you see?” Castiel purrs, slowly walking back towards his lover for the night. “I chose the green just for you.”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” Michael breathes, looking Castiel up and down slowly. “Damn, you’re pretty, darling.”

“Why, thank you, Michael,” Castiel purrs, slowly climbing back up onto the couch and into Michael’s lap. Michael shivers and strokes up his thighs. He makes a low sound when he notices Castiel wears the panties over the garter belt – meaning he can take them off and leave belt and stockings in place.

“Very nice,” he murmurs, stroking up underneath the camisole. “You’re spoiling me, Castiel.”

Castiel laughs quietly and raises his arms to let Michael strip the camisole from him. He moans as Michael leans forward to lick and suck at the nipple he’d neglected before, buries his hands in Michael’s dark hair. “Oh…”

“Always so sensitive for me,” Michael hums and blows cool air over wet skin. Castiel shivers and watches Michael’s eyes darken further. “Bedroom.”

They end up leaving a trail of Michael’s clothes from the couch to the bed, and Castiel ends up on his back on the sheets, Michael on his hands and knees above him. His lover looks him up and down hungrily before kissing him again, harder and deeper this time until Castiel is out of breath and clinging to the soft cotton.

Michael peels him out of the panties with teasing touches, then spends a few minutes licking at Castiel’s hard cock before reaching to the bedside table for the lube. Cas pulls his knees up and bares himself, clenches down on the glass plug inside him with a low moan and his eyes on the impressive erection between Michael’s legs. Michael groans at seeing the glass between his cheeks.

“How open are you, darling?”

“Enough you can slide right in,” Cas promises huskily and then moans when Michael lightly tugs on the plug, pulling it out a little before letting it slide back in. He keeps doing it until Cas is moaning and begging for him to please, please fuck him, and Cas nearly sobs in relief when the plug gets pulled free finally and he hears the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being opened.

Michael’s cock pushing into him has him whine in need, because no matter how nice a glass plug is, it will never come close to an actual cock in Castiel’s opinion, and Michael is big enough to stretch him a little even after wearing the plug for hours.

His lover of the night is also a man of infinite patience, so the first slide in is slow and gentle, until Michael is as deep as he can get and Castiel is panting and moaning, feeling so damn full. “Please, move,” he gasps out, and Michael chuckles and complies, guiding Cas’ legs up around his hips before starting to roll his hips, slow and gentle and just enough to drive Cas slowly but surely mad.

He’s begging in a constant, breathless stream of words by the time Michael takes pity on him and starts moving faster and harder, and Castiel nearly screams when a hand wraps around his cock and starts stroking him in time with the thrusts into him.

Michael’s cock rubs insistently over his prostate, and Cas lasts only a handful of thrusts more before arching his back and shouting, covering Michael’s hand and his own belly with his release. Michael groans deep and low as Castiel’s hole clenches down on him hard but keeps fucking Castiel until he sinks back into the mattress. Only then does his lover let go himself, coming with a few more hard thrusts into Castiel’s twitching hole.

Cas pants and watches as Michael does the same. In a moment, his green-eyed lover of the night will pull out and get rid of the condom, and there’ll be sparkly water fresh from the fridge for him and a warm, wet washcloth to clean up with. Michael will curl up around him for a while and they’ll talk about whatever comes to mind, and maybe, they’ll have sex again if the mood strikes them.

In the morning, there will be a white envelope with the sum Michael owes him in cash, and Castiel will return to his own apartment and shower, and in a few days, he’ll get ready for the next appointment.

Yes, Cas is a private dancer, but he likes dancing to his own tune.

#spnkinkbingo #mrsimoshen writes #castiel/michael

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mikecardenmpreg · 6 years

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recovery, etc.

so its been just about a year since i got back into therapy and i just want to say this because i didnt make it clear enough when it happened. when i went in for my intake session last december, they wanted to hospitalize me. like. that day. right then. they didnt even want to finish the interview. they just wanted to admit me. because people reporting numbers like mine were in hospitals on suicide watch. they did not want me to leave the premises. i had to assure them that i wasnt going to kill myself (even though i knew that wasnt a promise i could make). i had to sign a CONTRACT promising i would not kill myself before my first therapy session. the intake specialist was skeptical but he let me go (though he had no idea how i was able to function on a daily basis - jokes on him though because i wasnt functioning at all). he had a look in his eye that told me he wasnt sure letting my leave was a good idea. when i went to my first therapy session with ann a few weeks later, she also wanted to hospitalize me and again i found myself assuring someone i didnt know that i wasnt going to kill myself (and that still wasnt a promise i could make). a year ago i was so sick that i was nearly hospitalized for my own safety and for the safety of others. i smiled and joked and laughed through it all. i reblogged relatable sad posts. i tried not to make it seem like it really bothered me. but i was barely hanging on.

i got my diagnosis on december 13th. i didnt talk to ann much but i told her just enough for her to deduce i had bpd. its something i knew for at least two years. i sat with my knees to my chest the entire session, uttering a few words here and there, picking at the fraying knees of my jeans. she took notes. she told me my numbers were concerning, that people with numbers like these are generally in inpatient care. i stared. nothing behind my eyes. i was a shell. she said “hopefully next time we meet youll be more comfortable with me and we can talk some more”. i felt like an asshole for sitting there and wasting her time. i thought i was a lost cause. i thought there was no way i was gonna get better.

and for the longest time i didnt. i was hurting so much. i was separated from all my friends and still dealing with the aftermath of not one but two absolutely devastating (at the time) rejections. i wanted to kill myself so badly but didnt have the means to do it efficiently and effectively (ive always been too scared to actually try to kill myself in case it didnt work - something ive told my therapist). i felt like the biggest fucking loser. i remembered the summer of 2012 and thinking (back then) that there was no way i could feel worse than i did then. i was wrong. how i felt in december 2016 through january-march 2017 was the worst ive ever felt in my entire life. looking back its mostly static. dont remember a lot of it. all i remember is being angry and suicidal and wanting to hurt everyone around me.

in april i started dbt. it took awhile for me to get into the class. ann had me take other classes to help cope with my other problems (anxiety mostly) and helped me process some of my issues until i could get into dbt. borderline is a little out of her area of expertise but she knows how to listen and is very very good at validating all my little hang ups (i love my therapist).

it took me a few weeks to see the value in dbt. for the first few months all it did was dredge up old shit and trigger me until i was hollow and numb. every week it felt like i was being ripped open and flayed. every week i got to relive a different traumatic memory. every week i disassociated to keep myself safe in this room of strangers (who were also disassociating to keep themselves safe). (disassociation is not a healthy coping mechanism)

but then i went on medication for my depression and anxiety and the combination of that, dbt, and regular therapy sessions actually began to like work? like? thats wild? and i started to see changes in my life because i was learning how to communicate appropriately and deal with my trauma effectively. and i stopped dwelling on the things that made me feel bad and started diving in to the things that made me feel good. i started spending more time with friends and reaching out and actually putting an effort into being a better friend. i started being honest and open with my parents about my progress rather than being super secretive and hiding things. and somehow the constant stress dreams and nightmares and violent thoughts and suicidal ideations stopped. i was finally able to enjoy things again. i was even able to spend time with my parents and actually enjoy it. hell i even looked forward to seeing them and talking to them (which is a really fucking big deal).

there have been slip ups along the way. things have happened that have really bent me out of shape. but i was able to deal with those things and recover. last december i was prepared to ruin every relationship i had. i told my parents to not come to my graduation. i almost deleted all my friends phone numbers and unfollowed them on all social media so i never had to speak to them again. i was ready to isolate myself from everyone so that when i killed myself (which i was getting ready to do) i wouldnt hurt anyone.

im not gonna say that i cant believe that person then and the person i am now are the same people because i can absolutely believe it. there are times when i want to go back to my old ways because regressing is a lot easier than constant progress. and getting better doesnt always have 100% positive results. ive learned a lot about myself and others along the way. ive had to sever ties. ive learned that some people arent capable of change. ive learned that sometimes taking a break from the people you love the most is the best thing you can do for yourself (and for them). ive had to have hard conversations because getting better has forced me to learn that you gotta actually work for what you want.

i havent been perfect this whole time either. i still havent learned how to value my own feelings over the feelings of others or how to accept that other people care about me. im sure some day i will. a year of therapy isnt going to fix everything. but some day ill have a breakthrough.

the whole point of this though is that if i can make it through my darkest moments and turn my shit around....anyone can. but its important to know beforehand that its a process. nothing happens overnight. nothing happens in a month. recovery is something you have to work at day and night for the rest of your life. its something you have to want. it doesnt come easy and its not pleasant. its not all soothing baths and flowers and handwritten journals. its crying and screaming and addressing your past traumas and welcoming them into your home like theyre family (and then accepting that they happened but not letting them dictate your every move). its being honest - brutally honest - with not only yourself but with others. its letting go of people you love and learning to exist in the void of loneliness (until the people you love learn to accept the new you). its showing up every week (or month or whatever) and saying something for once, even if you think its stupid, even if you think its irrelevant. recovery is ongoing. im about to finish my first year. i still have a lot of work to do and im actually kind of excited to do it? which is cool considering my contingency plan has always been to kill myself.

anyway. i just wanted to say that. i dont pat myself on the back very often but ive accomplished a lot this last year. and not gonna lie but ive referred to myself as “most improved patient” in my head multiple times these past few months. im in a pretty okay place right now. im glad im still here (despite the world getting worse literally every day). im glad i have people i can share that with. and i hope some day soon i can return the love and support ive been given tenfold :)

#suicide mention #long post #very long and personal post

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