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i swear my dog is krypto. he matches that level of chaotic neutral

he’s a runner. why? because he likes being chased and going on long ass walks. you either gotta sneak up and snatch him after walking down the road after him (like how humans hunted mammoths to extinction) or pull up in a car and open the door next to him. and then he just jumps straight in

dude will demand to play but growl when you try and get the toy he’s brought to you

he will nip at loose clothing and drag you around the house. he will attack towels and blankets

he will go completely still while staring at you before lunging to lick your mouth and he WILL succeed

he’s so frustrating but i love this dog so so much he’s my baby brother and i will go running down the road for him every time

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i have spent most of the past two years without doing much physical exertion since my health is sporadic (get periods of pain and tiredness for days or weeks all on and off throughout the day and then it goes silent for days or weeks or months before coming back) and today i did a lot

praying i haven’t theybossed too close to the sun cause just a week ago i was in so much pain i couldn’t sleep 🥀

frustrating not knowing what this is. all of a sudden i got told about ms by one of the doctors i go to and like, ????? why am i just barely learning about something that might fit better with the waves of symptoms

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oh to be in love again(bittersweet). oh to be in love again(full of dread).

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keep remembering the last time i was being harassed (still not sure if im allowed to call it that?) and how my arm and back kept getting felt

and i can’t even layer up or anything to stop from remembering feeling gross cause it was happening when i was wearing a SUIT. a whole ass SUIT

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throwback to when i was 3 apples tall and not interested in relationships AT ALL so i decided fuck it, i’ll become a nun when i grow up

tricked myself into believing seeing someone as cool = attraction for a bit then BAM. aroace.

it took a while but i got there

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finally confessed to my therapist that i was forced out of the closet in my first outpatient program and that my parents don’t actually use my name or any pronouns other than she unless we are in an area where i am openly out as gender nonconforming

she asked if i’d like them to use my name more and like, fuck, idk? it’s been around 5 years now i’d get whiplash. i’m oddly used to my gender never being discussed or affirmed.

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im once again projecting my breakdown pains (not yet my general nerve pains though) onto dan goodman

him being in pain whenever he cries. that first day after losing gabe he just locked himself in a closet to break down and for the first, but far from the last, time he starts to ache.

with every sob his arms start to burn, his legs, his chest. like the universe itself is damning him. so, as he adapts to a life of caring for diana, he learns to bottle it up and avoid even thinking about their son. because the memory will bring tears. and with the tears comes pain.

he does well until diana starts spiraling. and all of a sudden he’s in pain even when he’s not locked in a closet crying with a fist in his mouth. he’s so scared all the time and it hurts in more ways than one. but what can be done about it? he has to keep pushing on and taking care of his family.

so he tries to shove it away with the rest of the ghosts in his closet

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i find it funny how i’m the only one in my family who has accepted that i’m slow. i was the fastest to realize it.

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if i could edit like those videos where they crop characters from scenes and put them in self care day routines i would make one of those for natalie and dan.

some father daughter bonding as they do self care instead of facing the horrors

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dan goodman post-canon seeing someone who vaguely reminds him of diana and just breaking down crying

he knows it’s not her, it couldn’t be, she’s far away, but it hurts. natalie has to guide him away as he tries to hold it all back. just when he’d thought he had overcome his grief

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me and my blorbos who are metaphors for trauma and mental illness and the people they haunt <333

as i obsess over next to normal im also making a story and ocs. and i just, love non-villainized personifications of mental illness, trauma, and grief. they are not malevolent, they just are.

im making this little kid whose very presence is something another character was denying and hating for so long. she’s not evil, she just happened and she needs acceptance because her existence was no one’s fault.

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deciding if my therapist would be concerned or proud of me terrorizing dan goodman. but avoiding grief by focusing on other stuff is also a very dan goodman thing of me to do

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my main goal in life is to get old and be that old person in the rocking chair with a patchwork quilt on their lap peacefully knitting or sewing away

but the planet is on fire, fascism is on the rise, citizenships revoked, and healthcare denied while being ill is criminalized

so maybe i’ll never reach the goals i’ve set for myself after fighting to stay alive. but maybe I’ll keep fighting. because i don’t want to die. for once in my life i don’t want to die. i want to fight to be that old person in a rocking chair

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even though i’ve been working through my fear of men it’s weird. these men have done nothing wrong to me, i feel so much guilt.

i’m too uncomfortable to be too close to my grandfather still and i feel so guilty. he’s done nothing wrong. i can’t even communicate the why of it to anyone. it’s so dumb.

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i’m 18 now and instead of thinking about the horrors i am excited to get more piercings and get new library card and apply for jobs

and of course torment dan goodman some more. as always

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i’m back and the brainrot is worse than ever. even my hair tie is living on a latte and a prayer today