lunch-is-banging

[lunch-is-banging]

not a suicide note.

  every time that i feel like i am getting better, something bad always happens and i realize that i was never getting better. i really did feel like things were starting to get better though. the weather was beginning to improve, i found someone that i really like. i was starting to be genuinely happy. but of course, something had to happen and i go back to square one. i go back to feeling like i would be better off dead, like nobody likes me, like i will never amount to anything. i go back to thinking that i am worthless and incapable of being loved, no matter how many times people remind me that they love me. i feel like everyone hates me, and like everyone is constantly judging me. like i can never do anything right.

i know that i am overreacting. this is not a big deal, and it will eventually blow over. i think what hurts the most about this, is that i now know that some people actually think the things i think about myself. i try to comfort myself sometimes in thinking that no one really thinks that. that i am the only one who feels this way about myself, once again i have been proven wrong. i can’t lie, it really hurts. like really hurts. it felt like i was finally starting to be comfortable in my own skin, and i was finally starting to be confident, but that all went away within a day. two posts on the internet, over 100,000 views collectively and about 1000 comments about me. that is the definition of humiliating. i know that it’s stupid to be upset about what a random person on the internet thinks about me, but i can’t help but to be upset about just that. why am i like this? so emotional. truly pathetic.

i hate feeling this way, because sometimes other people notice and then they feel bad for me. that is always the last thing that i want. i hate people feeling back for me. it makes me feel worse. it also makes me feel good though, it is nice to be cared about. that is really the only reason i am still alive. because i know that a lot of people care about me, and i know that a lot of people want me here. if i kill myself they will be sad. i do not want that. that would be selfish of me.  i try to not be selfish if i can help it. if this were a perfect world i wouldn’t feel like this, and i wouldn’t be writing this right now. of course, the world is far from perfect. so here we are.

sometimes i think about what life would be like if i did decide to kill myself. if any of my attempts succeeded. how people would react. how different things would be. i know that my parents and my sister would be sad. i know my friends would be upset. i know that people i used to go to school with would post me on their stories saying some dumb shit like “i wish we got to talk more.” or “we didn’t talk, but you were so loved.” when in reality they wouldn’t give it a second thought. nobody cares about you until you are dead. when you are alive, they could care less about you, they could treat you like actual shit, your existence means absolutely nothing to them. that’s crazy to think about.

this is not a suicide note, if you haven’t caught on yet. i am just venting about my feelings, in a healthy way. i won’t lie though, i already got some of these feelings out in an unhealthy way. oops. currently 25 hours, 18 minutes, and 27 seconds clean. woohoo. i was so close to a month clean. but that stupid video happened. those stupid comments happened. and i broke. i don’t know when i’ll be okay again. but hopefully it’ll be soon. i don’t know how much longer i can live like this. it really sucks. waking up and feeling like shit, feeling okayish throughout the day, and then by night going back to feeling like shit again. but really feeling like shit. crying myself to sleep has become a new daily. i hate this! so much!!

i do try to be okay though. i don’t want other people to worry about me. i don’t want other people to leave me. i don’t want this to ruin anything. people tell you that they will always be there for you, but they won’t. most of the time anyway. as soon as things start to get really bad people leave, and that sucks. it’s not anyone’s fault if someone is mentally stable enough to help someone else. but i would rather them just say that they can’t help me because they are not in a good place rather than them leaving. or maybe they just leave because they think you are so fucked up that you are impossible to love. i know i can be hard to love. i know that i am not anyone’s first choice, but i wish they wouldn’t leave. hopefully, he won’t leave.

if i ever do kill myself though, i don’t want anyone to think that it is their fault. no one is to blame but me. it was my own choice to do that. i would never do that because someone told me to. I would never blame anyone either. i would just hope that people would be able to recover quickly. i know that wouldn’t happen though. but if i ever do, please don’t blame yourselves. please don’t think you could have done something, you couldn’t have. i won’t tell anyone that I’m about to kill myself. i will probably just write a paragraph saying how much I love you and shut my phone off. I might leave a list of passwords; I don’t know though. some people know my phone and computer password already though, and my password is pretty much the same for everything, using capital letters and special characters as needed though.

what do you think the afterlife is like? i like to believe in a heaven. and although i guess I’m not the best christian, i would like to think i would go to heaven. heaven is supposed to be paradise. everything you can imagine and more. i could see mamaw again, and grandpa. i could see uncle norm and uncle chuck again too. another chance to hug them. that would be so great. nothing can be taken for granted there. you get forever with the people you love. how could you NOT want something like that? you get the perfect body, the perfect face, the perfect teeth, perfect skin, perfect stomach. no one will call you ugly. no mean things will be said about you. everyone will love you. why wouldn’t someone want that? ugh, so tempting. just to say fuck it and end it all. what do i have to lose?  is my future really that bright? will i be happy i stayed when i’m older? so many questions, but no answers. not yet at least.

maybe one day i won’t feel like this anymore and i will look back on this and laugh. i will look back on this on something so silly to be upset about.  maybe i will just look at this like a small little speed bump on the road of life. ew that sounds so cheesy. you get my point though. things happen for a reason, i guess. Hopefully i can find the reason for this though.

[lunch-is-banging]

[lunch-is-banging]

Christine: What’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?

Jake: Some girl on the bus screamed “sexy boy” and when I turned around she said “nah not you”. I cried actual tears.

[lunch-is-banging]

Recovery part 5

tw: break down

 Jeremy sighed, “Michael, you don’t know that.” He grabbed Michaels hand,” just give it a try, I want you to be happy.”

“Thats selfish,” Michael retorted, he didn’t intend to sound rude, but it just came out that why, “its selfish that you want me to be happy. It’s like if I wasn’t your friend, then, then you wouldn't care at all!” He pulled his arm away.

“Thats not what I meant,” Jeremy said facepalming, “A lot of people want you to be happy! A lot of people care about you,” he smiled.

“Why because if I’m sad it makes them sad?” Michael asked, “if I feel anything other than happiness it affects their mood and I shouldn’t be so selfish to ruin their happy mood.”

“Michael, stop it!” Christine said, “you’re thinking too into this, we just want whats best for you, its okay if you’re sad some days, angry some days , or just don’t feel anything some days. We just want you to be you.”

 Michael shrugged walking up the stairs and slamming the door. He walked into his parents room and locked the door, he was a burden wasn’t he? He was rude wasn’t he? He did over react at Jeremy being a good person, didn’t he? Fucking hell, why can’t he ever do anything right? Why is it so hard for him to be a good friend? 

“I hate myself,” he whispered, “I deserve to die.” He opened a small cardboard box with the initials, A.M. written on it. It was his mothers, Amy Mell. He opened the box and found a note, addressed to him, 

“My Dearest Mikey,

 This is hard for me to write. It’s harder for you to read. Michael, I’m sorry I’m leaving you to deal with your father alone, I’m sorry, I’m leaving you to deal with life alone, but please do me a favor and never, ever, harm yourself. You are perfect, you are special, you are loved. I know you have atleast one person in your life who cares about you more than you know, whether its a boy, or girl, they love you. 

Please do not ever do what I am going to do, I don’t want your fate to be the same as mine, I know you are stronger than I ever will be. This will all end, whether its with me going, or maybe someone will be there to save you, whatever stops this, you are strong. You can overcome this baby, you can do anything I promise.

Michael, I want you to know, this is not your fault. Even if you were 16 years old, knew about this stuff and were able to try to talk me out of this, I cannot go on knowing my son is getting beaten whilst I just watch and act like its no big deal. I was a terrible mother and this is my punishment. I love you so much my son. You were the one thing that kept me alive, but the thoughts just won’t go away. Not even the brightest light can withstand the darkness of space. 

You were the brightest light in my life, and for that I love you. My thoughts, my heart, my mind are as dark as space and nothing can brighten it up anymore. I’m sorry, you are best thing to have ever happened to me, I love you Michael.

                                                              xoxo,

                                                                Momma.” 

[lunch-is-banging]

I want to kill myself, but please dont tell anyone. I know I won’t, I am incapable of tying a rope around my neck and jumping. I am incapable of taking an entire bottle of pills and swallowing them. I am incapable of drinking a toxin that would kill me in a second. I want to kill myself, please dont tell anyone. I want to end my life because I am tired of constantly hating myself, constantly hearing the small voice that says, ‘go ahead do it.’ I want to stop being so depressed all the time. I want to kill myself, but please dont tell anybody.  I dont want to die knowing that someone out there would try to stop me and make me hate myself more for being so selfish. I dont want to see my mother crying , my father stop talking, and my sister so upset she quits her job. I want to kill myself, but please dont tell anybody.

anon 2001

[lunch-is-banging]

Rich: People keep making fun of my pancakes. Like bitch fuck off.

Jake: That is the most Canadian problem I’ve ever heard.

Rich: I’m just offended that those dildo sporks don’t think I can make good pancakes.

[lunch-is-banging]

Reblog if your icon would punch a nazi

[lunch-is-banging]

Re-Squipped part three.

Everything about you is still terrible.

“Everything about me is still terrible?”

Everything about you, still makes  me want to die.

Jeremy, soon you’ll see, if you still listen to me, than everything about you will finally be wonderful.

“I don’t want to listen to you.”

You need to listen to me.

“No.” Fine, have it your way, die.

“Geez okay.”

 Good, now go to the mall, we need to make you look cool again.

“I’m not letting another celebrity die.”

Of course not, just buy their merchandise.

“Fine, what celebrity?” I was thinking Lil Uzi Vert or Lil Peep

“Lil Peep is dead.”

I know that Jeremy.

“Then why would I buy his merch? I never listened to him when he was alive, why now when he’s dead.”

 Jeremy, what happened last time you listened to me?

“I lost my best friend and almost got laid.” Exactly, you almost got laid. Listen to me again, we can keep Michael in your life and get you laid.

“As long as Michael gets to stay.”

I just said he could stay. We can upgrade him.

[lunch-is-banging]

recovery part four.

tw:break down

still for the jeremy to my michael @daddydannyboylester

  Jeremy and Christine looked for Michael at school the entire day. He never came and that worried them. They knew the things that Michael was capable of. For all they knew he could be dead on the ground somewhere.

 As soon as the bell rang they left school and went looking around for Michael. They looked around the local park, the grocery store, even the arcade. They couldn't find him.

Jeremy thought of one place that Michael would go after his father beat him, or after something happened that made him upset. His basement. It was basically his room so he felt safe there. His dad wouldn’t come down there, he would make Michael go upstairs.

“I know where Michael is,” Jeremy said, “c’mon.”

 Jeremy drove to Michaels old house and he noticed the door was half open. They walked inside and Jeremy showed Christine the way to the basement. The door was cracked open and Jeremy told Christine to wait there.

He carefully crept down the steps and saw Michael on the couch, passed out. His face was red and swollen, probably from crying so much. Jeremy walked over to him, he noticed a picture in his hand, it was a happy family. It was Michaels family.

Jeremy lightly shook Michaels shoulder to wake him up. As soon as Michael saw Jeremy he buried his face in the cushions, “go away.”

“Michael whats wrong?” Jeremy asked, “you were doing so good.”

“I just had to get away for a while,” Michael said, “I couldn’t keep feeling like a burden.”

“Michael you’re not a burden,” Jeremy said shaking his head, “my family LOVES you.” “I was a burden to myself Jeremy,” Michael sighed, “nothing I was doing was good enough.” “Well we can take you to a therapist,” Jeremy suggested, “medication could help.” “Jeremy, this is a personal battle,” Michael said, “you can’t just give me pills and a stranger to talk to, to make me feel better about myself.”

[lunch-is-banging]

transformed.

  Jeremy is now officially Jeremy. He had top surgery, and now he’s been on T for about three months. He feels a little more masculine from the T, but feels more masculine from the top surgery.

Michael let Jeremy crash at his place while he was recovering since Jeremy’s parents were away on a business trip. Michael was extra careful every time he touched Jeremy because he didn’t know how much pain Jeremy was going through.

“Hey Jer, I’m leaving to get something from lunch? You want a slush?” Michael asked.

“Sure,” Jeremy yelled, “and some cheese fries.”

“Okay big man,” Michael yelled back, chuckling.

 Michael went out to get some things that he thought would make Jeremy feel better. He got some pillows, fuzzy socks, because everyone loves fuzzy socks, comfort food, movies, video games, medicine and a congratulations card. 

Michael bought a basket and put everything in there, including the slushy and cheese friends. He walked inside and quietly closed the door behind him. He walked over to Jeremy and put the basket in front of him.

“Micha! You didn’t have to do this!” Jeremy said tearing up.

“Yes I did!” Michael smiled, “you need this stuff.” “Michael,” Jeremy said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michael replied with a smile.

  A couple hours later Jeremy was drugged up on pain meds and couldn't feel a thing. Michael could, and what he was a feeling for his best friend. It was a weird feeling that most people don’t feel towards their best friend.

Michael had feelings for Jeremy, strong feelings.

[lunch-is-banging]

recovery part three.

this goes out to my friend @daddydannyboylester since shes sick...

tw self harm, relapse, running away

 Michael spent the night in his old house, ignore the incoming calls and texts from the few people that cared for him. He ended up just shutting his phone all the way off and sitting in the dark room alone. Sobbing.

 He decided to get up around 3 in the morning. He slowly walked upstairs and grabbed some non-spoiled food from the fridge and a mountain dew. He walked back down into the basement and turned on the t.v.

Michael was barely watching the t.v. The only thing he could think about was the knife in the kitchen drawer. He used it to cut open a box of mountain dews but wanted to use it for other things. He tried to shake the thoughts but he couldn’t. 

He went into the kitchen and grabbed the knife. He grabbed some damp paper towels and walked back downstairs. He locked the door, not that anyone would come in, but he wanted to be careful.

He pulled out the knife and pressed it to his skin. The cool metal feeling shocked him at first causing him to jump. The sudden movement made the first cut. After that Michael littered his arms with the red lines. After seeing the destruction to his skin, he threw the knife across the room, coincidentally getting it stuck in the wall.

He pressed the paper towels to his arms and let the cool feeling ease him to sleep. Michael deserved a good nights rest. 

-

 At school the next day, Jeremy was sure Michael was going to be there. In fact he was counting on Michael being there. He was a little shocked to see that Michael wasn’t there. 

Now, Jeremy wouldn’t be the slightest bit shocked if Michael wasn’t severely depressed, didn’t get out of an abusive household and never self-harmed. Michael missing school before Jeremy knew all this, was normal. He usually missed it once a week.

“Hey Jeremy,” Christine smiled, “where’s Michael?”

“I don’t know,” Jeremy replied.

[lunch-is-banging]

recovery part two.

tw: self harm, relapse, therapy, running away

 Michael walked to Jeremys house feeling defeated. He didn’t have any family to go for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, or birthdays. He’d have to go to Jeremys family events, and Jeremy doesn't celebrate Christmas or Easter because his family is jewish.

Michael tried to wipe away some stray tears before they just streamed down his face.  Instead of turning to go to Jeremys house he ran straight to his old house. The door was unlocked so he just slipped in. He locked himself in the basement and sat on couch sobbing.

He walked over to a picture he had sitting on his dresser. It was a happy family, a proud father, a happy mother, and a son, maybe two or three years old. Michael grabbed the photo and hugged it to chest. It was his family. A year before everything started spiraling. 

The next year Michaels dad would loose his job and stay out late drinking. Which would lead to him becoming abusive. That lead to Michaels mother killing herself when he turned 12. That was 5 years ago. The abuse went on for 9 years before it killed her, Michael had been enduring it for 14 years. He always had a terrible life.

Michael felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was Jeremy.

from: Jeremy Heere : hey Michael! My mom said you didn’t come home after school like you always do. Is everything okay?

to: Jeremy Heere: everything is fine Jeremy.

from Jeremy Heere: where are you? I will come pick you up & drive you home if you want.

to Jeremy Heere: I dont need to be picked up. I am fine where I am. I’ll be home soon. 

  Michael put away his phone knowing that last text was a lie. 

[lunch-is-banging]

Recovery.

 Recovering was hard for Michael. It’s hard for him to hear things like “fag”, “useless”, “idiot”, “useless” without thinking of his dad. Everything triggered him into a constant state of panic. It was easy enough to say that all that abuse from his father, earned him the “right” to say he had Post-traumatic Stress Disorder.

If anyone would so much as raise their hand towards Michael, he would flinch. Every time someone would go to high five him, he would cower behind his hands. Even if Jeremy lightly punched his arm, Michael would still freak out. He could not shake the memories of coming home from getting beat up, to getting more beat up from his father.

Jeremy and Christine had made themselves Michaels honorary body guards. One, nobody would hit a girl. Two, nobody would hit Jeremy in front of Christine. So now, the same applied for Michael. this was a put in effect as soon as Michael returned to school the next week.

Teachers had been notified about what really happened, so they were all going easy on Michael as he was forced to bounce back. He didn’t really have a chance to fully ‘recover’ for him it was all just, “recover as fast as you can.” He didn’t have a home to go to where he could sleep in his own bed. Every night for him was a non-stop sleepover.

Michael had officially been three weeks clean when he started to break again. School was not going easier on him anymore, Christine and Jeremy weren’t as ‘active’ as they were before leading to the occasional wedgie from Kurt or Ram. Everything started to sink in. He was still the loser who nobody liked, now he was the loser and the freak, that nobody liked.

[lunch-is-banging]

BMC but its Kermit

Jeremy’s theme

More than Survive

I Love Play Rehearsal

The Squip Song

Two Player Game

The Squip Enters

Be More Chill (pt.1)

Do You Wanna Ride?

Be More Chill (pt.2)

More than Survive (Reprise)

A Guy that I’d Kinda be Into

The Squip Lurks

Upgrade

Halloween

Do you Wanna Hang?

Michael in the Bathroom

The Smartphone Hour (Rich set a Fire)

The Pitiful Children

The Pants Song

The Play

Voices in my Head

- Mod Jenna 📱 (With Help from Mod Rich and Christine)

[lunch-is-banging]

LOOK AT GEORGES FUCKING FACE. BOTH IF THEN ACTUALLY. DO YOU SEE THAT?!?! TELL ME IM NOT THE ONLY ONE

[lunch-is-banging]

Re-squipped part two.

since you guys like series’s heres a fun one little one.

Jeremy walked back outside pretending that nothing happened. He could still feel a throbbing pain above his right eyebrow. He rubbed it and took some aspirin but the pain was still there.

Jeremy, you and I both know that you know I’m here. You can’t deny it.

“You’re nothing but a voice in my head.”

Look in front of you.

“Keanu Reeves, nice.”

You reactivated me.

“How?”

Mountain Dew activates me. Mountain Dew Red deactivates me. Mountain Dew Blue reactivates me after deactivation.

“Just stay out of my head. I don’t need you.”

On the contrary, I can help you do chores in a matter of minutes.

“I don't need a squip to do my chores.”

Jeremy Heere, you must let me help you. The pain will increase. If I go long enough without being used or without being talked to I reset, and you have a 98.78453% chance of dying on the spot. 

“Fine.”

Good. Lets get these leaves raked.

 The squip helped Jeremy do his chores in double the time it would take him to do it. His dad was impressed by how fast Jeremy got things done, and asked him if he had that thing in his head again.

Lie. He can’t know I’m back.

“No, thats gone for good.”

Now, your plans with Michael tonight, cancel them. You’re going to Richs party. 

“I can’t cancel my plans with Michael. I haven’t cancelled our plans since you left.”

Cancel the plans Jeremy.

“Fine.”

[lunch-is-banging]

scars part four.

wow! a part four? incredible! 

 Jeremy looked at Christine when he heard why Michael wasn’t going to be in school for the week. Jeremy knew exactly why.  He knew that Michael was going to be late, but he didn't know his dad would go as far as to put him in the hospital.

This has only happened one other time. It was fourth grade and Michael didn’t tell Jeremy that his dad did this to him. Michaels dad broke Michaels arm and told the school Michael had fallen down the stairs and was going to miss school for the week.

Jeremy knew Michael was only a klutz when he didn’t have his glasses on, so he was skeptical of why Michael fell down the stairs. He found out a week later that Michaels dad broke Michaels glasses, and pushed Michael down the stairs. Jeremy wanted to tell his mom, but he swore to Michael.

“Jer?What’s the matter?” Christine asked, “is it Michael?”

“I need to go and see him today,” Jeremy said, “theres no way someone would just do this.” 

“What do you mean?” Christine asked, still confused.

“I can’t tell you here, meet me in my car after class,” Jeremy replied.

 Jeremy waiting for Christine to get there, to say he was impatient was an understatement. He wanted to go see Michael and ask if his dad did this to him. He wanted answers to the many questions he had. 

“Sorry I’m late Jer,” Christine said, “Rich was asking about Michael.”

“Its fine,” Jeremy said, “Michael has an abusive father, you can’t tell anyone.”

“What why?” Christine asked, “Jeremy, Michael could die from his dad , and you’re worried about a secret?”

“Look, I know his dad isn’t going to kill him,” Jeremy sighed, “he isn’t capable of murder.”

“Jeremy!” Christine snapped, “did you not hear the teacher say that he almost died? If his dad could almost kill him, what makes you think he isn’t capable of fully killing him?”

“You’re right, but Michael would have no place to stay,” Jeremy agreed.

“Can’t he stay with you? Hell, my dad would probably let him stay with us if he need it,” Christine replied. 

“Yea, my parents would probably let him stay in our basement,” Jeremy shrugged pulling into the hospital parking lot.

He quickly walked through the door, only stopping once to ask where Michaels room was. Jeremy ran over to his best friends side. Michael was asleep, un aware of his best friend and friend walking in his room.

“Michael, wake up!” Jeremy yelled shaking him.

Michael jolted awake and his mouth hung open when he saw Jeremy and Christine at his side. 

“Jeremy, Christine,” Michael said, “what are you doing here, its supposed to be 3rd hour?”

“I came because I know you didn’t get mugged,” Jeremy said, “you’re dad did this to you.” “Jeremy and....” Michaels dad walked in.

“Christine,” Christine said flatly.

“Christine, yes,” Michels dad smiled, “thank you kids for visiting.”

“Dad can I talk to them alone?” Michael asked.

“Of course,” he smiled.

 Michael waited until his dad left to talk.

“I got home ten minutes late, and he threw a beer bottle at me,” he began, “I slapped him and he just started beating me. I don’t remember much of what happened after, I passed out after seeing colors.”

“Oh Michael,” Christine said hugging him, “you can stay with one of us.”

“NO!” Michael yelled, “you can’t tell anyone!” “You could die!” Christine yelled back.

“I will die either way if anyone finds out,” Michael said.

 Michaels dad came back into the room a few seconds after Michael said that. He asked Jeremy and Christine to leave so he could talk to his son. He looked calm to them, but Michael knew he was about to get real mad.

“You little rat,” He spat, “you told them the truth?!”

“Dad-” Michael started being cut off.

“When you get home, I’m going to kill you,” His voice got deep, “and this time, I mean it.”

 As soon as he finished that sentence a few hospitals guards burst into the room. Pulling Michaels Dad away. He was yelling profanities. 

Jeremy and Christine walked into the room, “My mom said you can stay with us Mike, she loves you.”

 Tears streamed down Michaels face, his dad was going to jail and his mom was dead. He had no real family left. Unless you counted Jeremy, Jeremy’s family, and Christine. They were all he had now.