justallnerves-blog

[justallnerves-blog]

so i may or may not change my face claim for natalie help me out

[justallnerves-blog]

outofthelight:

Well she definitely wasn’t buying it. Because of course she wasn’t, why should she? Could he still try and cover? What could be his next approach if she wasn’t really buying that one?

“I, I just I get um nervous when I’m put on the spot about something.” Not a complete excuse, he realized. Or at least not convincing enough to prove he wasn’t making excuses.

He bit at a fingernail as he weighed his options. “I really wasn’t trying to stare,” he said, finally. “I just, um, she…she seems neat, is all, and I um I’ve seen her play in jazz band and she’s good.” And she’s beautiful and way out of his league.

“Don’t worry about it, this isn’t first grade. I’m not going to run out to the playground and tell everyone that she has an admirer or sing some silly song about the two of you in a tree.” Natalie couldn’t blame him for the nerves, people in high school could be less mature than fucking children.

High school was a nightmare, there was no question about that. There’s a nod, piecing together this has to be an admiration from afar thing.

“Sorry again about making you . . . jumpy.” Fingers play a bit with the edge of the pages of her school books. “You good?” 

[justallnerves-blog]

I have been awful about being on here && I am sorry. Moods just sort of been down but will definitely be back when spirits lift a bit and motivation occurs.  

[justallnerves-blog]

Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.

Kate Jacobs, Comfort Food  (via wordsnquotes)

[justallnerves-blog]

faculaes:

        @justallnerves was flat fucking crazy ( batshit I hear )

Carrie had seen the recital. 

         It had been ROUGH. And that was coming from a girl whose mother thought that being locked in a closet was acceptable punishment. She wasn’t friends with the girl she wasn’t friends with anyone really, a  f r e a k  like her? However, they had been in the same classes for a few years, enough for her to notice how the girl acted. Unlike Sue Snell or Chris Hargensen she had never been interested in the whims of popularity that seemed to entrance high schoolers. Natalie had always been more focused than that — so to see her LOSE control onstage was jarring to say the least. She had felt that urge to devolve into madness, or uncategorized notes on a piano – but she had never given into it. Not yet at least. 

         With small steps she approaches the girl, clearing her throat and clutching her school books close to her chest. “You did really well last night, I e-enjoyed your piece.” She’s not good at this, and the words linger, eyes trained on the d i r t y floor. “You can tell it’s what you’re SUPPOSED to be doing, like you’ve always been doing it.” 

     NATALIE GOODMAN HAD SNAPPED.

Word had gotten around about that night at the recital, word about how Natalie had broke. A girl that had burned so brightly was now burning out. She couldn’t quite pin what this was overtaking her, whether it was teenage rebellion, a state of caring so much that she no longer cared, the drugs, or a desperate cry for help before she FADED away forever. She was not prepared for the attention on her all of a sudden, of the whispers, but yet, wasn’t this better than not existing at all? It surprised her when Carrie came up to her, a girl who was teased mercilessly and Natalie had never done a thing to stop it ( she never really got involved in other people’s drama, had enough of her own, but that excuse barely flew ).

The gesture seemed genuine enough, despite the skepticism that burned through on Natalie’s features. “You can’t be serious . . .” She scoffs, but guilt immediately overtakes her. Perhaps that was too harsh, for all she knew the words were not being spoken just out of pity. “Sorry, that was rude. I just, I fucked everything over up there and wasn’t expecting any praise after it . . . thank you, Carrie.” She offers a hint of a smile, a signal for a possible truce. “Did you know anyone in the recital?” Or did she go for fun when Natalie’s own parents wouldn’t even attend with PURPOSE.

[justallnerves-blog]

[justallnerves-blog]

@overhumanity — cont. from x

She leans against the wall, watching each rain drop beat against the glass. It did feel surreal, perhaps that was why she favored rain days, it favored the activities she enjoyed. “Guess so, I don’t think I mind that too much.” It’s soft, too soft for her perhaps, but Kate was good company, always had a way to provide hope.

 “What’s keeping you from sleep?” She plays with the bottom of her sleeves, not sure if she is searching for similar agony in the other girl, someone who would understand the anxieties pounding at her brain.

[justallnerves-blog]

slackerphilosopher:

1:14 a.m. [ To: Nat <3 ] …holy shit that’s a good question

1:14 a.m. [ To: Nat <3 ] I mean hopefully they don’t think nobody cares about them but I mean that’d probably be what I did if I thought I’d turned invisible just ‘sweet guess I can just chill and watch Netflix now’ so I mean I like that way of responding to the whole thing

1:15 a.m. [ To: Nat <3 ] They probably figure it out after a while though even if they don’t realize at first and then you don’t only get to watch Netflix all the time you get to figure out your new ghost powers which is even better

1:16  a.m. [ To: Henry ] — Hopefully, but if you think you are alive and try to speak to people or interact and they just don’t acknowledge you . . . you know what mental path that is going to lead down Henry.

1:16 a.m. [ To: Henry ] — Ghost powers huh? like walking through walls and shit?

[justallnerves-blog]

roseloved:

frowned as watching the evasive stare,  the weak smile.  this girl certainly felt uncomfortable,  and,  truth be told,  who could blame her?   the environment was far from quiet or calm.   besides,  clearly she was timid.   not simply someone of a shy nature,  but with shy acts.   with all the sympathy that she always bestowed upon others ;  not mattering the level of acquaintance ;  quickly the swede reached her understanding.   how to feel lost in a crowd was not a strange question in her life.   especially not now,  when all around her,   things were falling apart.   suddenly,  a dramatic sigh escaped her lips after listening to the question.   an actress in many ways for the amusement of others  -  except on stage,  sadly.       ❛     it should be on the final,  I would feel better if that was the case.      ❜      not a lie.    by all means,  Christine was already stressed,  but only one hour had passed since she arrived and even if completely unnecessary, and not a big deal,  her presence had been requested.   it was only polite to stay a bit more before leaving without anyone noticing.   maybe call Meg for a ride,  if only to avoid taking the subway so late at night.

and then,  she smiled brightly when her classmate asked one more thing - good. and nodded with subtlety.              ❛        a bit.    I am not a fan of this kind of parties,  and I don’t really know anyone here so it is a little weird.   like,  you know.    I don’t have anything against any of them but… I would rather be truly studying back at home and ———      ❜      oh,  the ramblings.    once the recluse exterior was broken,  she longed for conversations ; after months of apparent solitude,  living on her own,  visiting a hospital with only hopes her words would be heard.   Christine cleared her throat,  and moved to the side,  indicating to the girl that she could sit if wished.   after some seconds filled with awkwardness,  she finally continued.            ❛       but you… you are not really having fun,  are you?   oh,  and you are Natalie,  right?   we share History on Mondays,  I think.       ❜     the hopeful glance had been met.   and there was only the expectation left ; if she was able to help.

It seemed it was always the quiet ones who had the most to say. Made sense, they were often lacking attention. She could never understand why people saw it as a NEGATIVE. Quiet was not synonymous with reclusive, not synonymous with boring.  “ I get that . . .”  she nods, showing understanding and some relief at the finding of companionship when it was most needed — surrounded by dozens of others. It was always the largest group that could induce the LONELIEST feelings. “Especially considering the time of year, it’s just so fucking stressful . . .  but sort of trying out this new social life thing.” But she could never prioritize it above her schoolwork, just wasn’t in her overachieving nature.

She takes the invite to sit with a slowly warming smile. She shrugs a bit, never really one to easily lay all her cards out on the table, especially when emotions were concerned. “Just not my scene I guess . . .” not anymore. “History, of course . . . and you’re Christine?” the perk of rather small classes, names came easily. She looks down at her cup, as if conversation starters would be floating in there. “How are you liking it so far?” God, she sounded like a fucking adult trying to make small talk. And not the good kind of adult these college kids were expected to be. “I mean, the school and the independence and well, everything?” 

[justallnerves-blog]

“I don’t need a life that’s normal, that’s way too far away; but something next to normal would be okay!”

Day 61: Natalie and Diana Goodman (Next to Normal)

[justallnerves-blog]

notusedtohappy:

“duly noted,” he replies, smile appearing on face out of gratefulness and relief; mainly relief. there are students  ⸺ medical students, especially  ⸺  that could be not only aggressive, but downright malicious of of their competitiveness. never having a part of that, never being a part of that; usually moving in the calmer crowd of his year, it’s something rarely encountered but steeled for constantly, anyway. one never knows. thoughts like this ALWAYS increase anxiety along with the tremors in his body, and shaking his head in a way to avoid this rabbit hole seems to be a good thing to do, now. focus on the matter at hand.

“huh? yeah,” hand moves consciously to own head of hair, fingers briefly touching the dark strands daring to fall into his face from tearing at them so often in the past hours. “it’s a miracle, comes with the work in the lab, you know. we NOT ONLY learn to save lives, but also how to keep us from balding,” he jokes.

looking over to her after she sat down, studying the book and identifying it as part of the psychology syllabus. “you’re a psych major? that can’t be easy, either. cut yourself some slack!”

Fingers flip through pages, an awkward smile follows, not quite there laughing but trying to acknowledge there was humor there. She glances down to her book, trying to multi-task the absorption of knowledge and the art of conversation ( while she can barely juggle one on its own as is, guess which comes with most difficulty? ). “So is it medicine then or some sort of witchcraft?” She perks a brow, nearly scoffing at her own idiotic joke — the answer was always medicine.

“Sort of — Psych minor actually, same difficulty just a lot less classes.” She doesn’t elaborate on the way, doesn’t intend to. Most picking of college major and minors had to do with academic strengths, and for someone who functioned with a lot of logos, hers seemed rooted in the passions of the heart.  “Music major, second major in education in case the orchestra or solo pianist thing doesn’t work out — anyways, what possessed you to torture yourself going medical?” 

She should shut up, her textbook is screaming at her to shut up and her nerves are begging her to do so as well before the obligatory polite question was fired back at her upon being answered. But she has always had an impulse issue.

[justallnerves-blog]

we came as romans lyrics 1/? ›› lost in the moment

[justallnerves-blog]

slackerphilosopher:

Henry took out a donut and offered it to her (if it got a bit of powdered sugar on his fingers who cared?). He was pretty pleased that at least that part of the plan was going smoothly.

However, he’s not entirely surprised at her reluctance to accept the invitation. “Hey, it’s cool, no obligation or anything. I totally get it if you need to check in with your mom, I’m glad you’ve been getting to see her, especially you know with the holidays and all.” It might have been several months since Mrs. Goodman had left but he was sure it was still hard on Natalie and her dad. “But don’t even worry about imposing if that’s the main thing.” He was sure it wasn’t. “Like, none of us would mind at all. Plus it’s like a repreive from non-stop Christmas music.“ Not that he didn’t enjoy a good Christmas carol. "But hey, if you don’t want to it’s cool, not like we’re not gonna get to see each other again or something.” Somehow he couldn’t bring up Christmas. It didn’t feel right. That was her holiday and he didn’t want her to feel like he was trying to force her into anything. 

She reaches out and bites in, powdered sugar staining her lips and the tips of her fingers, but she doesn’t care. It’s really good — something she has denied her sweet tooth for too long. Like she seems to deny a lot of pleasures.

Natalie needs to get back into the groove of her life. It had been hard to break those bad habits picked up in guilty impulse. And motivation still seemed to try and escape her grasp. The first step was opening herself up perhaps, giving a chance just like she had at the dance. Henry didn’t let her down then, maybe he never would. “I mean, mom won’t take all day—” her voice trials uncertain. “And that reprieve is very welcome.” Never much for the holiday spirits, and Christmas carols were not really beloved. Plus, his traditions did intrigue her, how a family unit actually functioned. “Will there be more of these?” 

[justallnerves-blog]

[justallnerves-blog]

dcmcgcd:

      HE P R O M I S E D. it wasn’t the first time, & it certainly wouldn’t be the last. he never broke them – except this once. this one painstaking time. that hadn’t been the plan, to ditch her. he’d even convinced their MOTHER to show up. all of them would be there. cheering her on ! that is – until the car drive.

      everything was going perfect. mom in a good mood, no episodes. what could possibly go WRONG ? gabe. gabriel could go wrong. stomach churned, pain spreading through each inch of his body – AN ACCIDENT. to put it lightly. the brother remembered telling his mom that he wasn’t feeling well. a hospital visit later, the doctors fixed up what was – BROKEN. a rupture. bowel. not the first time. certainly won’t be the last. dad showed up after mom made a call, despite the teenager’s protests. & the little sister was all alone.

      he couldn’t tell her. couldn’t make her WORRY about him. he had plenty to go around. so, when her voice rang throughout the room – automated mood change. he can’t even LOOK at her. can’t see how much it hurt her. dark orbs remain focused on the video game. anything but her.

      ❝ i was busy – ❞ he lies. would rather she HATE him rather than know the truth. ❝ my life doesn’t revolve around you, nat. i’ll make it to the next one. ❞

      She wants to pull the plug on that STUPID game that is more important than what she is saying to him. Maybe it is better that way, she would prefer that he could not see her blinking back tears. They just . . .  did not do emotions together. Self-expression just wasn’t the Goodman way.

      “ Busy with what? ” there’s desperation, demanding to know what was more important. Perhaps motivated to catch him in a lie. Eyes are desperate — Don’t lie to me Gabe, not you. Even stronger being — DON’T LEAVE ME. Afraid of what her world would look like without him, now that they were getting incredibly close. If he faded, so would she.

    “Will. you?” It’s choked out and she hates herself for even going there, for even thinking it. Mom does that enough for the whole family & Natalie always tried to shrug it off. It was the only way she could cope, by labeling mom as paranoid and finding all the ways Gabe was fine — ignoring the ways he was not.

[justallnerves-blog]

but we all know the plots where the bad boy wants to corrupt the good girl. but what about the good girl, wanting to make the bad boy fall in love with her. a plot where she wants to see how those dark eyes look when he’s in love!! just!! all the angst when he starts to get nice but he then fucks up again and does stupid shit and hurts her and she’s all disappointed but they get stuck in this circle of shit and angst and fluff. 

[justallnerves-blog]

bansheeintuition:

     Upon impulse, she gently takes her hands and holds them steady with a shake of her head. “Actually… it doesn’t sound crazy at all,” Lydia tries her best to reassure the panicked girl, having had her taste of insanity once. “I don’t think you did anything wrong, either. Why don’t we call the police so they can help investigate what’s going on, and then figure things out together?” She assumes this young woman hasn’t the faintest clue of the supernatural, and intends to take baby steps with her keeping in mind she could possess a spark or simply be a very confused human. Either way, Lydia wants to help calm her.

Having someone assure her is more than she is used to, with parents who usually were the ones who needed the comfort, Natalie never quite getting the safety of warm arms wrapped around a tiny & sorrowful figure. She nods, “you’re right . . . you are probably right.”  reaching for her cell phone, fingers slowly dialing the three numbers9 deep breath, try and think where you are Natalie1 don’t freak out . . . oh god they better not call my parents1. She looks to Lydia for strength  before speaking,  broken but overall coherent, all before a hang up and some silence, allowing everything to settle into a jumbled mind.  “ . . .  Thanks”