#Ive been feeling really fucking depressed at my drawings recently but sitting down to draw her was the most fun I had this year

[samix-asb]

there's an odd charm to her

happy late birthday to probably the best female lead ever, I don't even post encanto things anymore but here we are

[eirian]

im going insane so im going to tell you about it and by that i mean make a post to scream into the void about my troubles

this will be a rambly, stream of consciousness post so watch out. unmedicated adhd brain shenanigans are afoot

i feel like i need to draw for myself more. i try to very often, i do, but i still feel like im caught in the whole “if i dont draw for attention then whats the point” hellhole that ive been trying to get out of for years. but i feel like the reason for this is that i literally Need the attention to up my chances for commissioners??? because thats how i make a living rn???  like i literally rely on commissions as my main source of income and that pays for shit like rent and medication and appointments and food :( i barely buy shit for myself anymore b/c im putting it all towards needs and not wants

also im worried my merch wont pop off as well as it did when i first released the submas merch. i know those were in high demand, but im afraid the demand will go to single digit sales for them as well as everything else i sell.  im honestly thinking about just buying very small stock, maybe 10 of each item at most, and opening the orders that way (after i ship things out of course).  speaking of shipping my last shipment STILL hasnt come in and im a little frustrated b/c im like. bruh i need to ship out these preorders. im not gonna do preorders in the future i dont think, im waiting way too long for this stock to come in :( i dont want yall to wait forever for like..a keychain

ive been trying to work here and there on both villain + school and facets (facets is completely written and scripted, v+s just recently got solidified as an outline Finally) but i kinda only had energy to do so for One Day so im not sure when those’ll be out lmfao. sorry bout that

i want to make more ocs, i havent made new ocs in a hot minute and im like :( wah. my character design brain is kaput right now.  i wanna make more cool db ocs and such like i used to. it used to bring me so much joy.  or maybe even inazuma eleven ocs idk im just wanting New Boys

i have so much to do or at least so much i could be doing. like i could make new merch art but that feels pointless if i dont have the money to buy the merch. i still need to ship out my FIRST orders, christ.  and im trying so hard to get commissions rolling so i CAN ship out my shit but :( its a struggle. im struggling. god im stressed to hell and back hi

sometimes i do be like i wanna die !  but i wont.  i’ll be ok things will be ok.  i will get commissions its only the 6th.  i have time. and im going to check out some cons that i can maybe table at in the future. thatd be wonderful. fuck i need to reprint my business cards with my updated twitter im a little mad i ended up getting my account unsuspended right after i made those cards. at least i only made 50 of them i guess

i need like an online journal or something to write this shit into instead of like, a public tumblr post LMFAO. but i cant use washi tape online so there goes that /hj

i really really need to figure out a way to let the general furry population know that i will draw their stuff for commissions. like. i Will. i Have. i Can.  just give me a chance bro i’ll draw your inflation fetish art just give me a chance to make some money to live LOL.  i would draw more furry art but i am so unmotivated and sluggish its so hard..

i kinda feel like i should try to get back into adoptables too but ive been so depressed and down and unmotivated its really really hard for me to design things for myself let alone to sell. so im like ok now what i have no income. im too brain fucky to get a “real job” so im just like. sits here on my ass doing absolutely nothing except being sad.  ok so i might have depression

anyway life is hard thanks for putting up with me

[salsdemise]

Kiyo with an s/o whos going through a rough time

Mini vent at the end bc ajhsjh i have not been doing great

Hhhhahsd ive been feeling down, mentally ill things, but i needed to write something so one of my biggest character comforting a trans(ftm)!s/p going through a rough patch. Based on my own mental struggles recently :) Ive had no motivation so this is the first thing ive made in months that ive liked even somewhat so yea enjoy

he/they for kiyo, he/him for reader

Tw for mentions of declining mental health, transphobia(mentioned), suicidal thoughts(mentioned). Please stay safe <3

playlist?: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/47tMeqTMGZQl31SQwt62A1

-First notices it when you’re at home

-he came over to help you study after you had asked, and instead he found you at your desk, head in hands a drawing you had tried so hard on scribbled out in frustration

- “s/o, dear? Are you alright?” his voice is soft and gentle as they set his bag down, going over to you.

-When you say nothing and just sigh, he’s concerned. Putting his hands on your shoulders, he intends to move you but you lean back in your chair, looking at him before standing up and suggesting you study elsewhere.

-not wanting to push the matter, they agree and you both leave.

-notices again over texts. Usually you were quick to respond, but now you were taking upwards of 15 minutes and they were getting worried.

-while he's on his way to your place, you’re in your room, barely focusing on anything, still in your pjs, too tired and out of it to get changed. But it had been that way for a few days now.

-you were letting things get ahead of yourself and it was overwhelming. It was getting to the point you were considering the worst.

-with the comments from your parents, classmates, anyone online, it was only hurting you. You were sure korekiyo didn’t really care.

-until they’re at your door, knocking frantically, concern etched on their face when you open the door.

-”Oh..my dear, you had me worried..” he’s taking in your appearance as he walks in, shutting the door behind himself. Your hair is messy, greasy and knotted, your skin turning grey and rough from not showering, your clothes were wrinkled and dirty. You couldn’t meet his eye, you were sure they thought you were disgusting.

-reaching for you, slowly so as not to startle you, they put a hand on your shoulder and one on your chin, making you look up at him.

- “Talk to me, my love. What has you so down?”

-that was all it took for something to snap inside of you. The feeling of empty numbness turned into sadness, tears running down your cheeks, your body shaking with the sobs you let out.

-Holding you close, Korekiyo quietly suggested he take you to your room, and though you hesitated, you agreed. -once in the room, kiyo had you sit on the bed with him and they listened as you talked, explained, apologized.

-”Darling, there's no need to apologize for this. I understand the feeling, not feeling like anyone cares, or not feeling important. I understand not wanting to get up and take care of yourself. All we can do is take slow steps to work on that, together. I would never judge you based on this. I find you amazing no matter how you look or feel, that is why I have loved you ever since we started talking. Come now, let's get you cleaned up, yes?”

-the whole time you’re struggling with this feeling, he’s by your side, comforting you, rooting for you, helping you.

-And even if that feeling never fully goes away, They’re helping keep it at bay.

vent this way dont read if you dont want to see me complain lol

Mental illnesses fucking suck, especially untreated. Early september i was diagnosed with depression and im not getting ANY help despite needing it so hahhaa. How i cope is with sitting here frustrated and sobbing while beating myself up for the tiniest things lol. I hope you guys are/are able to get the help you might need :,)

[smuglemon]

time to vent here because it somehow feels safer then anywhere else 🦎 . it will go into stupid detail cause lol

i just. fucking Hate how. everything has turned out! I hate coming to terms with the fact i have actual trauma . but. it doesnt feel right to say what i went through is trauma even though it was. or maybe it wasnt i dont know but i literally have flashbacks when im feeling weak, i dont KNOW if thats normal. i still just wish things were different i want a different childhood. i know was neglected my whole childhood , i missed months of school my parents fought all the time over drugs i witnessed kittens pass away and i had to deal with that . I know my parents still loved me and tried for me and they are recovered now. but it just hurts so bad still. i coped with everything by having a horrible internet addiction. Which led to me getting insomnia whcih i still suffer from to this day. i wasnt depressed back then but i had horrible anxiety, it wasnt social yet but every time they fought i would break down and i didnt know how to deal with that i still get involuntary shakes whenever i hear yelling from my parents . I wish i could control it but ggahhh fuck. i used escapism to deal with my problems, id just sit and draw and watch my little pony and just look for anything that would be a distraction. I didnt have any friends outside of the internet or school and usualy i wasnt going to school. my parents never wanted to do anything with me and i was always really lonely, id talk to anyone who would talk to me. this led to some good things but a lot of bad things. but all this neglect whether it was trauma inducing or not just led me to not seeing doctors, getting a proper education or learning how to be social . Whcih leads to today!!!!! hahahahahhahahhaha :(

to start I have no friends outside of the internet period anymore. everyone irl left me 2 years ago on a total whim, and i have no reason to believe it was anyone elses but my own fault. I love and appreciate tje friends i still have online, but being suddenly dropped by my old friends left me with really severe abandonment issues with the people im closest with rn :( i need to constantly be with people especially a specific person who my emotions seem to rely on,, i know im the only one who can control how i feel but ggod. it feels like evry emotion they have i have to match it or i will not be good, if im visibly sad when theyre happy i will be left alone agakn and i know that isnt true i know they wouldnt leave me but the fear still exists and i dont know how to get rid of it. i always read too far in nto their tone and worry whether they are mad at me or sad or any other thing, i fear im annoying for constantly asking for reasurance :( and every time they go i fear when they come back they will realise im bad and they will leave me and it feels almost inevitable. i know logically i know i shouldn't but god i have nightmares abt it,, theres so many better people out there. my friends deserve so much better than that.

ive also been diagnosed with ADHD recently ! man as if i didnt have enough problems. its just been really awful to deal with. with a combination of trauma(?) driving me to want to indulge in my childhood fixations and nostalgic things and , like idk if its age regression but just ,, trying to imagine a happier childhood alot. mixed with getting hyperfixated on anything but my school work,, mixed with not having a classroom environment , its lead me to fail 2 semesters of school so far . I feel like I have no future anymore because of that. i feel so lazy and i know im just making excuses for that but despite everything tjat happened i just wanna be a kid again! I want to be raised normally I want to get help for my problems early i wanna not have to worry about anything :( i want to be normal.

[fallen029]

I’ve been trying to get a part of OpB out a month, but this month I got swamped and just didn’t have time. I’m hoping I get it finished by this weekend, but it might not happen, so for the ones of you who follow me over here, I thought I’d post the first half (or quarter, really), for you to read over. This part involves a lot coming together all at once, so it’s just been a bit of a hassle to piece together. 

I don’t usually post OpB shit over here and I’m not going to start, but if you see this and wanna follow the rest of it, it’s over on Fanfic and Archive. You don’t have to be all caught up or even read any of the rest of the Remember Me shit to understand it. It stands on it’s own, loosely in the Fairy Tail realm, focusing on the slave trade in Bosco. Nearly full OC, and kinda just me indulging my own shit a bit. It’s not for everyone, but I rather like it. 

.

Operation Bosco: A Call to Arms, IV

it was always strange.

The feeling of it.

Waking up.

Since Haven had been revived following the mishap on the gauntlet, it was always a bit of a jolt, first thing, as her eyes peeked open and she was greeted to a new day. There were some difficulties in adjusting, right at the start, to the feeling. Her chest would get heavy and the breaths she drew in always seemed to burn, just a bit, as the scarring over her stomach itched.

For as bad as the nights were though, the mornings made it worth it.

She’d never really taken a break. Before. Had always been on, constantly. From the day her parents let her start snagging the fliers off the job board, she’d either spent her days completing them or training to be able to do so.  Days were meant for toiling and nights were meant for getting fucked up in her father’s guildhall. Her mind was focused on very few things and everything felt simple. Easy. Broken down.

Get stronger and reward yourself along the way.

But when she was revived, things were different. She couldn’t take jobs right off the bat, she was too weak to train in the first few weeks, and her father no longer held a guildhall for her to act out in, with not too veiled hopes of gathering his attention.

Everything was different.

Locke had to go back out, on jobs, and even once she was up to training, she had no one but her boyfriend’s father or Ajax to do it with. Navi was gone, Locke now had friends, real friends that he wanted to spend time with, if he wasn’t out, and it was jarring.

All of it.

Her family was there, but she was trying to ease back into those relationships and they were dealing with their own trauma, what with her coming back to life and her father disappearing in the middle of the night.

She’d spend days, both with or without Locke, at a bit of a loss as to how to get back to where she was. Or, honestly, how to be sure she’d never return to it. There was a call for the long stretches of solitude and peaceful atmosphere she was rewarded with, but at the same time, it felt far more like a punishment.

She was a woman of action. Strong action. Constantly falling in and out of dangerous scenarios in order to prove her worth. Those few months of either taking no jobs or taking one and needing a be recovery period was hard on her.

Very hard.

“I never want to be like this again,” she told Locke, more than once, and he only snickered, smiling even, in the beginning when he was still just amazed to see her alive and breathing, with him once more. “Don’t nothing. Sitting around. Waiting.”

“It’ll be different in Bosco,” he assured her and it was still a dream to them then, not fully realized or understood, what it would mean.

What any of it would mean.

She spent months getting stronger and him proving himself to the guild master, just to find their power and prowess useless. He’d spent the majority of their time away on guard duty, back on base or across the border, while her true powers had been suppressed and her new, fancy one she was so pleased to wield had only come into play once.

And for what?

So she could find herself folding clothes in a sweatshop, hoping to win the approval of women that saw her as little more than a kid. A fucking, stupid kid whose current placement in life did more to depress them than, perhaps, their current surroundings. Reminded them of their first time. Times. In new places, adjusting to the new regulation and lack of freedom they were presented.

There was a resignation, back in Ewings, but it wasn’t buried nearly as deeply as it was the majority of the women she was currently housed with. The majority of them were too old, had been under too long, and she was made known of this the second she tried to broach the topic with any of them.

It was a headbanging kind of realization, the ones she had every single day and night, as she tried to assimilate herself with these women. She lacked the nerves or fears she had, on Ewing’s manor, but they were instead replaced with frustrating jitters of wanting to do something, to start something, but not quite being able.

She didn’t connect well with other people. She never had. But it was now a major part of the job and, though she wished that both Locke and Shae were able to carry the heavy load in this, she knew that her position in the hoped revolution was very important.

One of the things that she’d learned recently from the short months she’d spent back home actually came during that down time she hated. And from Marin, her lame younger sister, of all fucking people. Marin possessed the potential for all the power in the world, but balked in her formative years, and instead had to build other skills.

She wasn’t great at it either, after all. Connecting to other people. And maybe that was Haven’s fault, at least somewhat, but whatever it was, Marin found ways to overcome it. Where Haven thought to prove herself physically and violently, Marin managed her natural awkward disposition in another way.

With her natural abilities repressed, she found herself accessing social skills in other ways. She learned things about people, rather easily. She served them beers and fed them filling food until they felt comfortable enough to express things to her. Whether this was intentional or not, it allowed her to easily transverse any other personal relationships she was forced to have with others. They felt naturally inclined to consider her something. Not exactly a friend and maybe not a confidant, but at least someone that, even when sober and starving, they could count on to be there for them.

The best part of this arrangement was that Marin hardly had to offer anything difficult up to others; she merely had to provide the expected level of care. This wasn’t exactly an imparted benefit on Haven through word of mouth, but rather observation. She watched her mostly quiet and reserved sister in the guildhall many times following her resurrection, and it was a very alternate experience from how Marin was once treated around the place.

By doing her work, she found an avenue that otherwise wouldn’t be easily presented to her.

Haven wanted to be like that. With her job. To do her job and make friends along the way. It used to be that way, anyways, when she was just a regular mage, running around helping others. She fell in and out of relationships in her time away from Fairy Tail, nothing serious, but her prowess had always spoken when she was unable. Helped her fall in with the people she needed in the moment who required her powers just as heavily.

But now she didn’t need them. Didn’t have them. Couldn’t use them. It felt better, honestly, than it had back at Ewings place, now able to at least use her transformation magic, but it still ached a bit, as it always would, whenever she couldn’t draw electricity through her veins at will.

It was depressing.

Just how things had felt, when last year’s long, hot summer had faded into the darkness of a new season. But now she was trapped in the dull shadows of a hotbox sweatshop, equally as shut-in and alone, but just for different reasons.

Sulking wasn’t productive though. Nor was her natural inclinations towards anger and brash attitudes. Shae and Locke were both out of their element and struggling to find ground, but she was given the easiest job of all; she couldn’t fuck it up.

She just had to gain the trust of a bunch of old women.

Marin did it with the older men in the bar, plying them full of beer and liquor and listening to their problems. Finally, for once drawing true inspiration from her sister, Haven found that getting frustrated with her position wasn’t going to get her anyways; she just had to do her job and keep her head down.

So she tried it.

Haven had always been kind of afraid of it. Silence. Left to her own devices. To think. After her ventures into the afterlife’s eternity, she found mostly that she’d never not be afraid of the concept. Silence was just too much for her to handle.

But without even Shae now, it was what her days were mostly filled with. And as she focused, tried hard to get the folding and sorting all down, box breaking and box opening, but fuck.

Fuck.

It was just hard.

But she seemed to be endearing herself more, this way. Or at least she thought. There was a woman, anyways, of the few that were on folding and packing duty, that seemed to not look on her as harshly as she once had.

She was a...hearty woman, Haven thought. Homely, maybe, was the word. She kept her messy brown hair clipped back and out of her face for the most part, but sometimes a strand would fall from its containment and she was mutter curses just loud enough for the typical blonde to catch. A dark, rough patch laid over the older woman’s eye and she cursed about it at times too, wiggling a finger beneath the fabric to deal with an itch.

She went by Bea, the woman did, and she was a glimpse into the world Haven was merely visiting.

It started just like that. Not so harsh looks and, eventually, her grumbling at Haven to take a seat, beside her and two of the other women, during lunch break, down in the grass.

There wasn’t much to talk about. They probably didn’t really have much in common, removed from their current position, but they were trapped, all of them, with the magical marker denoting them as less than, and if they only had one thing to speak on, then it made sense that they eventually would.

“You wanna ask about it,” Bea remarked one day in that gruff she had. They’d had a few conversations by this point, short and to the point. Grumbles over the food, the work, maybe on a too cool summer evening, about the pond water. But this time, as they sat together in the warm grass, sun bearing down on them as they scarfed down their lunch, it seemed different. The tone. The intention. “All the new people do.”

Haven knew what she was talking about, of course, but even for as socially inept as she typically was, even she knew that she was heading down the entirely wrong path. Quickly shaking her head, she had to swallowed the hardened sliver of bread and warm meat of some sort that they’d been served before saying, “N-No, I haven’t. I-”

“Things were different,” Bea told her simply and this, at least, hadn’t been the first time she’d heard such at hing. “Around here. Before.”

Haven paused, not wishing to ward off the potential for further conversations, but also being reverent of letting this once slip through her grasps.

“Before?” she asked softly.

“Before,” the older woman went on, “the current master. The young one. The son.” She almost sneered, maybe, shaking her head as she insisted, “He’s not nearly the...man his father was.”

“Did he...did he take your-”

“Plucked it right out.” She made a popping noise with her mouth that made a woman sitting nearby visibly appear revolted. Bea only reached up, almost absently, to sneak a finger beneath the flap, scratching with a sigh. “Punishments were stiffer. The work harder. What we were dealin’… But I was so young then. Your age, maybe younger. Things were just...different.”

“That’s fucked,” Haven remarked, but Bea only shrugged.

“I’ve seen yours.” Then she made that face again, that sneer, the finger slipping back out from beneath the patch so that she could gently tap the pad against the course fabric. “Well, as well as I can see somethin’-”

“What do you mean?”

“Your scars. On your stomach.” Bea raised an eyebrow. “Told ya mine.”

Which meant she wanted Haven to tell hers. It was probably the entire reason she’d brought up the conversation in the first place.

It was with a bit of a sigh that Haven thought about it. All of it. She had a lot of scars, of course, and wore them well, but the most important…

The fact it was even visible was her own fault, honestly. Her transformation wasn’t that draining, but she needed it to be perfectly even, refilled and never taking away too much. Leaving her scars where they were, hidden beneath her clothing, was an easy concession. And the visible ones only added to her credibility. But they all stripped together, each night, and even though the moonlight didn’t illuminate much, all light only revealed the most inconvenient. Or at least it always had for Haven.

“I got cut open,” she admitted, softly, and though it wasn’t the full truth, as she looked away and reflected, she told just enough of it that her pain was not only convincing, but real. “Died. A-Almost, I mean. I almost died. Someone was able to use magic to save me.”

“All that miracle,” Bea sighed with a click of her tongue and a shake of her head, “only to land you here.”

“Only,” Haven agreed, “to land me here.”

Things only seemed to look up from there. It was difficult, of course, to be too optimistic for the future when you were dealing in such a dank reality, but Haven did feel good about herself. Bea seemed to like her well enough, maybe, and though the other women all seemed to be distant, it was nice to have something of an in.

She felt comfortable in it, at least somewhat, and was very ready to shove it in the often doubting Locke’s face one day when she disappeared off into the shed, equally anticipating her boyfriend as she was the soda pop he’d bring.

Which was why, as he slipped in empty handed, she had a bit of a glare.

“Nothing?” she questioned. “I literally have nothing to look forward to and you still manage to disappoint-”

“Haven.” He rushed the short distance to stand before her, his goofy gaze rather harsh that day. Clouded. Concerned. Reaching out, he grasped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to stare up at him, linking their gaze. “Something’s happened. Or is happening. I don’t-”

“Is it Shae?” She shoved him off, tossing up an arm and, originally intending it to crackle with the heat of electricity, she instead found herself merely flexing. “We’ll fuck ‘em up, Locke. We’ll-”

“No, Have, it’s…” He only frowned at her. “It’s you.”

Deflating some, Haven returned the gaze though hers was accompanied by a raised brow as she questioned, “What do you mean?”

He wasn’t quite sure, honestly.

The concern came from Shae herself.

Locke had the benefit (misfortune?) of being one of the guards sent up to the penthouse, not for their irregular defiling of select hostages, but rather to rouse Monty from where he was shirking on his duties. It had been with a bit of a huff that Wick chose him, finding the young man eating with some of the other guards in the dining room, and as he and Locke bounded up the stairs, his only offered explanation was, “You talk sense to him, Hux. He likes you.”

But he didn’t like Wick.

No one liked Wick.

He was a cold man, older than the other guards and from the old breed, Anderson had sneered to Locke once behind the man’s back. He kept to himself and mostly seemed to find his time spent trying to get Monty to do anything other than drink and hide in his arcade or penthouse.

It was a difficult task.

But recently, the Master had taken quite the liking to Hux and, while that was annoying to some of the other guards, Wick saw this as a new, unexplored advantage. Guys listened to their friends, after all, and if the new guard could, at the very least, supply an easy way to control the Master, then, well, his presence was worth it.

Up in the penthouse though, as Wick moved through the living area, unconcerned mostly with the women that hung around, and instead headed to bang on Monty’s bedroom door, Locke uneasily glanced around at the women seemed equally as uneasy to see him. He almost raised his hand to wave at their very pointed avoided glanced, but he didn’t have a chance as someone came rushing over to him.

Shae had spent the past few days sitting by the door, mostly. She avoided Monty when she could, but felt it very important that she get to Locke, as soon as possible. Being locked away in the penthouse, this felt completely impossible as the man, she knew, would avoid the place like a plague. Still, there really wasn’t anything to do, at all, other than slowly go insane in the place and though she knew she was meant to be gaining trusts of the women around her, she found herself far more worried over something else.

She’d gotten up. Right before he came in. To find what had been left for them to eat in the kitchen. There was more, here, than down in the sweatshop, but most of the women, especially those who’d been there long, seemed to survive mostly on their pills and alcohol.

But Locke came in, while she was doing that, and at first, the sight of Wick stalking through the apartment wasn’t a welcome one to the woman and she hung back. But as he was barking for Monty, Shae saw the man she was actually looking for and, not knowing exactly when she’d be given another opportunity, she ran right for him.

It was awkward, the next few motions, as she hesitated and Locke tensed, at the feeling of someone approaching him in such a manner, but then there was the awkwardness of all the women staring and one of them had to say something, but it had to be here, because she was the one who had something to say, and while he was too shocked for much more than his silence, Shae knew she need to get the information to him as subtly as possible and, well, given their implied relations by that point, she figured it wasn’t too out of the realms what she did next.

Somehow, it was even more awkward.

Locke pulled back, when he realized what he was doing and it was like pressing her lips against nothing, mostly his chin, honestly, as she leaned up, but not enough to account for how hard he was trying to evade.

Pulling away herself, just slightly, she whispered, “Haven’s in trouble.”

Locke blinked with a questioning, “What?”

“Take this.” And her hands had been wrapped around his neck, but one of her balled up fists opened then and a folded slip of paper tickled the back of his neck as it tumbled down beneath the collar of his tucked in shirt and came to rest around his hip line, right where his too tight cut off passage. Shae’s eyes were wild as she insisted to the man, “You have to do something.”

It was on instinct, almost, the way he nodded at her solemn tone, but again, the seconds in this encounter were stifled by another immediately following it.

Wick had been coming out of the bedroom then, chewing out an inebriated Monty while he was at it, but this stopped suddenly when he saw what was taking place. Shae still had an arm wrapped around Locke’s neck and he was still too dazed to do much about it. The sight, for some reason, caused Wick to shout at them, but his gaze was quickly somewhere else.

“Enough,” he’d growled, the older man had, and all the women, who hadn’t really relaxed the entire time, seemed even more uneased by the action. With a deep growl, he was stalking right back across the room then to grab Shae roughly by the arm and toss her to the side. “You will not-”

“Hey!” Locke bucked right up as Shae, fighting against all instinct she knew, forced herself to only fall away and not bite back at the man.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” And Wick turned to Locke once more, raising his hand and striking him, sharply right above his left ear. Having been raised on such things, if anything the feeling made the hardy mage almost nostalgic. If only the hit wasn’t so weak with no true iron behind it. As Locke blinked away the feeling, his direct superior only glared darkly into his red eyes. With a shake of his head, Wick insisted, “You will never do that again. Do you understand? You are on duty. And in front of her?”

“In front of who?” Locke griped as he resisted the urge to rub at his ear. “What are you talking about?”

But Wick just huffed then, turning on his heel and walking over to where some of the women were coward, wincing as he came close, but there was only one that he seemed interested in. Locke had seen her before and, though she hadn’t stood out to him before, he recognized her as one of the women that worked in the kitchen. Not marked. Hired help. She was the youngest one of them, a teenager, and Locke had mostly steered clear of the kitchen help, not quite sure how they fit into liberation.

He grabbed her though, Wick did, hissing something about how she shouldn’t be up here, right now, and she was wide eyed, the teenager was, nodding her head and being drug from the penthouse while everyone else stood stock still and eerily silent.

As the teen and Wick disappeared out the door, a beat would come to pass before Monty, the only one capable of breaking the tension laughed, drunkenly, shaking his head as he continued on then.

“C’mon, Hux,” he slurred as he came to weakly slug the man in the shoulder. Grinning, his glassy eyes found Locke’s as he remarked, “Gotta finish work, huh?”

“Yeah,” Locke agreed with a nod and, though he did glance at Shae, he turned to follow after the Master.

Monty stumbled down the stairs with Locke’s help and, with some more assistance, the mage managed to shove the guy into his office where, following, he was certain to close the door behind them.

“Wick’s just freaked,” Monty explained, going to fall into his chair. “That I don’t, uh, seem presentable to my uncle.”

“Your uncle?”

“Alwood.” He sniffled though, at the man’s name, Monty did. Raking a hand across his face, he groaned some as he said, “Man look’s out for me.”

But he couldn’t even think about that sort of thing, in that moment, Locke couldn’t. Instead, he only paced a bit, around the small office, while Monty continued to rub at his face trying to wake himself up.

“Can I ask you something?” Locke finally asked and Monty waved his hand a bit.

“Sit down and do it,” he grumbled a bit. “Giving me a headache.”

Hesitating, Locke glanced at the door before going to sink into one of the plush chairs that set before the desk. Softly, he asked, “Who was that? That girl?”

“I dunno,” Monty replied as he rubbed a palm roughly into one eye, the stinking eventually causing him to gasp and drop his hand. Then, dryly, he replied, “You’re the one fuckin’ her.”

“What? No, I meant… The one that Wick drug out of there,” he explained. “The young one. Who-”

“That’s Wick’s fuckin’ daughter.”

“He’s what?”

Monty snorted then, sneering some as he sat back in his chair and focused on the ceiling for a moment. “I’s a kid when it all happened. It was under my dad that it all happened. That fucker. Left me all this shit to deal with. And fuck Wick too. Asshole. Thinks he so good. So great. Knocked the woman up. Down in The Factory. Judges me. He does the same fucking thing. Did. Whatever.”

Locke shifted, a question on his tongue, but doing so caused the slip of paper down the back of his shirt to scratch against his back and, suddenly, he couldn't give a shit about Wick.

“Hey, man, are you going to be alright?” Jumping up, Locke forgot for a moment that he actually, sort of, had a job to do and straightened at the remembrance. As he looked over Monty, he added, “If I take off?”

Monty ran a hand for once through his hair, causing it to become even more disheveled. Shaking his head, he said, “Gotta, uh, sober up. Before Alwood comes around.”

Locke found it unlikely that this would be accomplished, but he had his own problems to worry about. Not only did he imagine Wick would be on his ass, should he run into the man again, but he needed to get that slip of paper and read it over as soon as possible.

His room was empty, thankfully, when he arrived at it. On occasion, the other guys would be lingering around to talk or try and goad him into going into town with him. They all got their checks every two weeks and, now with a sizable accumulation of cicles, the offer seemed like it should have been more enticing to him than he was displaying to the others.

But he didn’t want to leave the property. Not with Haven around. If he told her about it, she’d goad him into going out with the other guards, get to know them better, study them, learn something useful to the cause, but fuck that. He wasn’t leaving her alone on the property.

It was hard enough knowing she was so close and yet barred off from him the majority of the time.

His chest was pounding, as it had since what had popped off upstairs, but alone now, closed off in his tiny bedroom, his heart felt like it was trying to rip from his chest. Ripping off his shirt, he probably looked a foo as he spun around in a tight circle, trying to find where the slip of paper had fluttered off to, freed now.

It wasn’t much. As he found the white slip sticking out against his dark hardwood floor, his fingers trembled some and he was both disappointed and terrified by just how short in length Shae’s note was.

She had to be straight to the point, of course, and there wasn’t much there for him to glance over, but still, he found himself collapsing onto the edge of his bed as his eyes traced over the short writing.

Alwood’s taking Haven back with him. Stop her from going. I’ve heard bad things about him. She’s not safe.

The note didn’t tell him much. And though he tried to get what he could out of the guys he had patrol with the next morning, because of the former, he didn’t have much to offer Haven that day, as he stared with heavy concern at what, truly, was a strange woman, but exuded all the warmth (or lack there of) that his girlfriend did.

He’d spent the majority of his life trying to protect her. And others. It was in his nature, since he was a boy. He liked for all the people he cared about to be as safe as possible. This was a difficult task, growing up as a mage, but he always saw after his friends. Haven especially.

His whole point in coming to this place was for that exact reason. He dreamed of more, he wanted more, but deep down, it was the only thing that really mattered.

“Alwood is going to try and take you,” he told her simply. “But I’m not going to let him.”

Haven stood there for a moment, after his words, losing her tension and fear for Shae and, at least somewhat, gaining some for herself.

“Alwood,” she repeated his name softly then, frowning, “knows Ewing.”

“What?”

“I told you. That’s where I know him from.” Turning from the man, she could only blink in the darkness, her desire for static, not to draw, but to expel, pooling in the pit of her stomach. “What if Ewing told him about me? And he came here to get me?”

“Haven, I don’t think-”

“He knew me, Locke.” She shook her head some. “From the last time. When I was there. The first time. He knew exactly who I was. He’s connected and shit and is after me now, I bet, and-”

“If you need me to get you out of here-”

“What?”

Locke looked quite serious when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Softly, he said, “I’ll sneak you out. Whatever. That’s why I came. If you or Shae run into trouble-”

“I’m not in trouble.”

“What do you mean? You think some rich fucking sicko is out to get you.”

“Are you kidding? Fuck him. He’s after me? Ewing’s after me?” She turned quickly then, bouncing on her feet, seemingly amped. “Fuck him. He doesn’t know what he’s messing with.”

“Haven-”

“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill them all.”

“You’re not-”

“I’ll fucking kill them, Locke.” She threw up a fist again, still with no electricity behind him, but as the blow connected to Locke’s chest, he had to suck in a breath. Twisting her fist, she pressed harder into him, but didn’t stumble forwards, instead only hanging her head, arm taut and rigid as she breathed heavily down at their feet. Bravado deflated, she only whispered, “I’ll fucking kill him, Locke.”

“You won’t have to.” He balled his own fist, but it was only to crash it down on the top of her head, sighing some as he took in her new look. When she raised her eyes, they were dark and not her own, but the heaving of her chest alternated perfectly with his own as he tugged her to him. “I fucking will.”

Haven rested there for a moment, indulging maybe, if just for a moment. Shoving him off after a beat, she only whispered, “You can’t kill shit. Fucking worthless.”

“If you had killed Ewing back at his place,” Locke retorted with a frown, “then we wouldn’t even be having to deal with this shit.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re,” he replied, “in trouble. You get that, right? This isn’t a joke. You can’t go back with Alwood. And if he’s intent on taking you, then it’s probably best if we start figuring a way to get you out-”

“No way.”

“Haven-”

“Give me time,” she insisted. “We can’t fuck this up. Shae upstairs, I’m down here, you’re a guard… This is too perfect to not be the plan. How it’s meant to be.”

“I’m not going to let you-”

“I’m not going with him. I won’t.”

“Then-”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Shaking her head, she asked instead, “How do you even know they’re taking me? Have you spoken to him? Alwood? Or did your little friend the master-”

“Shae told me.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “She, uh, passed me a note.”

“How does she know?”

“Haven, I don’t fucking know.” It was his turn to be annoyed. “How do you not know? If she does? I thought you told me you were making friends.”

“Friend. I’m making a friend.”

“Haven-”

“I’ll ask her about it.” Haven seemed to snap out of her funk, if only for a moment, as she snapped her fingers together. “I’ll ask her to tell me everything she can about Alwood and if she knows why he’d even want me, what for and all that, right? She’ll tell me. We talked, you know? Seriously talked. About-”

“You’re not going,” Locke told her simply. “With Alwood. If I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming-”

“Calm down. Idiot.” Haven held her head higher. “I didn’t want to go with him either. I’m not going to. Especially not if he’s tangled with Ewing. That’s not why we came. We came to get access to tunnels or some shit, right? So I’m going to fucking get us that.” Then she conceded a bit, “We’re going to fucking get those. I’m going to talk to Bea and you’re going to actually be fucking useful and we’ll figure out how to avoid Alwood all together. When does he leave?”

“I don’t know. I-”

“Useless.” She shoved him this time, but it was playfully, maybe, and Locke pushed her back, maybe too hard, but he was kind of tired of being smacked that day. Still, when she sighed, he gave one back, only nodding his head when she ordered, “Find out. Okay?”

It felt weird, when she turned her head up to press her lips to his, and Locke laughed some into the kiss, which got him shoved again, but he only shook his head.

“Doesn’t feel right,” he told her. “Here. With...this you.”

She snorted, shoving passed him then, “if you could make yourself taller-”

“I’m going to find out when he’s leaving,” he insisted. “And if we haven’t figured a way to make sure he’s not taking you with him-”

“You worry too much, Locke.” And she clipped his name the way that he liked. Poised to head right out of the shed, she only reminded, “Do what I told you and everything will be alright.”

[writeouttaluck]

This is a quickie. Partially inspired by my childhood and teen years.

Both Elementary and Middle school had hammered home the idea that people are shitty and that they will fuck you up at any given chance in any way they think of. I started spending more time by myself and away from people. The only time I ever left was to hang out with friends and even that seemed to be falling apart for me. It was rough, really. Ive known my friends were shitty for a while, but its what i got. Everybody else is either too stupid or weird for me to fit into. Not to mention the assholes.

Everyone in my class was a fucking asshole and they could suck a fucking dick if they thought i was about to drop years of resentment and turn the other cheek.

Fuck that.

Ill stick with the criminals. At least they can be fun.

After my first day of 7th grade, I felt about 3 feet tall and twice as exhausted. I had an inkling that it was depression. I did some looking online and thats what matched how i feel. Tired, lack of motivation, easilly upset by everything. It felt like i was loosing my edge and i cant say im too happy about that.

At the same time, it seemed that as one fire was being put out, another was being discovered. Something felt wrong. I was still angry as ever but it was different. I was more angry at the world than i was angry at a particular thing.

I was slowly realizing that things just arent gonna get better and if they do, it wont be for a long, long time. I was pretty much destined to do nothing with my life considering i wasnt smart enough to carry myself education wise. Ive needed help with a lot of things for as long as I remember.

It felt unfair. I was supposed to be such a smart person, right? Yeah what a crock of shit. It seems that adults have been lying to me about far more than just santa claus and the tooth fairy.

And right now I really felt like knocking someones teeth out of their head.

Like the universe had read my fucking mind, I heard a few pebbles get tossed at my window.

I got out of my chair and peered behind me. Out the window stood Dylan. He cupped his hands and shouted.

“Lets fucking go!”

I nodded and slid the bandana up my face. I grabbed my leather vest and walked out of my room, making sure to close the door behind me as quietly as possible. My mom was passed out on the couch again with the dogs laying beside her. I stared for a moment, watching her breathe heavilly in her unconscious state before i decided it was safe to sneak away. I practically slithered to the door before taking one more look back.

Mom layed facing the tv and away from me. I knew the dogs were gonna go apeshit as soon as the door opened and so i prepared myself.

Then like ripping off a band aid, I swung the front door open and hopped outside, swinging it shut behind me. They started barking like crazy as I thought they would and so I stepped down the stairs on my porch real fast and ran around to my backyard where Dylan was waiting.

“What took you so long?” he said to me as I caught up with him.

I didnt answer, deciding that answering him was just a waste of time.

We walked through our backyard and through the tall grass of the house that lived behind us. It happened to be on the market for years now and didnt seem to be selling anytime soon. That made it a great place to break into and hang out. It was a regular thing at this point. Although since the yard was so open and surrounded by other houses, we kept the hanging in there to a minimum.

“Dude, this fucking kid has been talking some mad shit about me recently.” Dylan started in, “Hes been talking to my girlfriend and saying some really fucked up shit to her. Saying what he wants to do to her and all this shit and I swear if I get my fucking hands on him…”

He spoke with gnashed teeth and a vein fit to burst from his neck. He said all this while looking at his phone screen. I could only assume he was looking at this guys facebook profile.

All at once Dylan turned back to me and showed me the phone screen.

“This fucking faggot. Im gonna fucking kill him!”

I looked at the photo and quickly recognized his name. That was the guy my girlfriend cheated on me with. I could feel my blood draw to a boil as i stared at him. I balled my fists at my side white knuckle tight. Each digit made an audible popping sound as they rolled up.

“You know this kid?” Dylan asked me.

I looked away from the phone and to dylan and nodded my head.

He nodded back at me in understanding and we both had the same idea in mind.

“Lets find this motherfucker”

…

After some talking and walking and all kinds of looking, we figured the easiest way to get this fucker out of his safe space was to have Dylans girlfriend bait him into coming to a secure location. We decided that under the bridge in town was a pretty good place considering that not many people know how to get to the path down under. We headed there and waited for the little bastard.

After a while of sitting around, it was about 9:00. The sun had gone completely down at this point and it was dark. There wasnt any foot traffic above for nearly an hour until we heard a bicycle rattle its way over the wooden slats. I nodded at Dylan and he ran over to the bushes to go hide while I stayed in the the open. I leaned on one of the concrete beams and crossed my arms.

This was going to be interesting.

“Bella! Psst, Bella!” I heard him whispering as he walked down the little hill. He waded past some real tall grass and walked out onto the smooth surface before he noticed me standing there.

“Uh...hi?” He asked, looking at me.

I stared at him and waited.

I watched as Dylan stood from the grass behind him and bolted in the guys direction. Dylan decked him from behind in the back of the head and he stumbled foreward, falling on his hands.

That was my cue.

I walked over and pulled him up to standing level. He had his eyes squinted shut and teeth together. That punch definatly hurt.

Not taking time to hesitate, I held him infront of me with my hand around his mouth and holding his right arm behind his back.

“So, you think youre hot shit, huh?” Dylan said standing over him.

He drove a fist into the guys gut and I struggled to hold him as he doubled over in pain. I snapped him back into place as dylan got into his fighting stance. He stepped over and punched him across the face hard. It was the kind of hit that would leave a bruise the size of an apple. I felt the guy breathe heavier, and tears hit my hand that was still clamped over his mouth.

Dylan reared back again and swung, hitting him right in the teeth. The guys head rolled back a bit at the force of the hit. Im suprised that didnt knock him out.

Than dylan got a start and drove his foot square into his gut. The guy moaned in pain under my hand.

Then the guy did something balsy. He bit right down into my hand, hard. My instant reaction was to let go of his mouth and suddenly he pulled his arm away too. He tried making a dash for it but my anger had flared at the pain. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back hard into the rocks and gravel at my feet. He flew into the rocks face first and tried getting back up. I grabbed his belt and tossed him again, swinging his face into the rocks once more. At this, I didnt wait to see if he was gonna get up again. As soon as his head was raised, I crouched to his level and put my hand on the back of his head, slamming his face into the sharp rocks again. He yelped a bit in pain so I flipped him over and clamped my left hand around his throat. I squeezed like I meant it and closed off his wind pipe. He looked up at me in pity as he choked. I picked him up off the ground a bit and slammed him back down. I brought my right up like a big ass flesh hammer and brought down hard on his face. I raised it again and smashed him in the face again.

Once I saw the color start to drain from his face, I let go of his throat. He coughed and gasped for breath he desperately needed. I saw something move quickly out of the corner of my eye and brought my arm up to sheild my face. Dylan pelted a handful of sharp rocks at the guys face before following it up with another hard punch. Once I knew dylan had this, I stood up and brushed myself off.

Dylan crouched to his level and looked him in the eyes. Than he did something that actually shocked me. He produced a knife from his pocket and flipped it open real fast in front of the kids face.

Holy shit, was he actually going to kill him?

Dylan brought the knife up and dragged the dull side of the blade down the guys face, who now was so terrifyed that he had full on tears streaming down.

Right as I imagined dylan jabbing the knife through his eye, He stopped just short and whispered real low.

“You come near my girl again or If I hear you talking shit about me around down, Im gonna come to your house and kill you and your whole familly. Do you fucking understand?”

The guy just looked at him in fear.

“DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!?!” He shouted in the guys face.

He quickly nodded out of fear.

Than Dylan clamped his hand on the guys face and shoved him back to the ground.

I got up as did dylan and we both started walking back to the top of the bridge. Once we got up there, we saw the guys bike parked next to the bench without a lock. So Dylan kicked the peg up and started walking it over the bridge.

At first I thought maybe Dylan was gonna steal this guys bike but that didnt seem like something he would do. Then we got to the mid point in the bridge and he stopped walking. I stopped too. He suddenly grabbed the bike by the middle and flung the whole damn thing over the edge like a big ass frisbee.

It dropped for a second before we heard it smash into the water below.

“That will teach that fucker…” Dylan said.

…

[steve-keychain]

i have some emo emo EMO emotions im gonna put em under the cut bc apparently all i do here anymore is scream so i will CONTINUE

i havent even posted any pics yet and i have a while to go but this pic of katya im drawing is legit the best piece of digital art ive ever made and im SO SO proud of myself like???? i never thought i would be able to draw again after my awful first year in art school like. not to be... the most but i never talk about it- i was so depressed and in the WRONGEST program for me i got fuckn. TRAUMA with a BIG T bitch and since i’ve barely been able to paint/make art. like actually trying to make anything causes me actual physical pain 7/10 times i sit down to work on shit. I only ever thought i would become an artist/illustrator and all of a sudden i wasnt anymore and everything was wrong!! yee fucking HAW but recently ive been taking it really slow and trying to let go of idk- feeling like i got a huge thing forcibly ripped from my life??? im dealing with my grief its gross and im doing it by working which might be stupid idk but. ANYWAY

this one particular piece is the first one ive worked on in TWO YEARS. where i havent felt Pained whatsoever while working on it. what the fuck- so like.... when i post it yall better not let it flop is ALL IM GONNA SAY. im so proud of myself and im proud of where im going!!!

[thedapperrabbit]

She-Ra Rewatch: season 3 and onwards through season 4, and boatloads of Introspection time!

So Ive been rewatching She-Ra with my partner, because sharing Entrapdak is caring. I could probably squee on about that for a century or more (because eeee, sharing things i love with people i love AND THEY EVEN PAY ATTENTION TO THE THINGS AND REMEMBER THEM!)...but ill spare you, kind internet strangers who for some reason find my thoughts mildly interesting enough to be reading this. This is going to be a lot. Like, a LOT. A lot especially from a stranger that youve probably only seen a notification from due to me sticking a heart on your content or for reblogging something lovely youve made in pictures or words. I dont think anything is going to be violently trigger-y because im not always great at judging that stuff and also ive yet to feel quite comfy enough to be  fully open-posting specifics about my own past trauma, other than a vague allusion to self-harm and distant-ish unspecified abuse aaaand the usual childhood garbage truck of assholes....but i suppose you could possibly draw some darker potential conclusions from the content im focused on. Also, my ADHD makes it incredibly hard to keep to a straight and non-branching narrative so...ramble-y bits and expressions of brain frustration ahoy. Either way...you are forewarned, just in case. Sorry in advance, this is going to be a small booklet by the time Im done explaining, and thinking, and then attempting to stick words to abstract feels which sometimes im great at, and then others i fucking suck at...but at least this is all written and not me trying to say this to any of your faces! Thats....a mercy all of its own. Haa...  Anyway, while rewatching with my partner, I realized just how much more painful parts of it are to sit through now...they were the first time, and each time since, but NOW having spent a while mulling over the series as a whole a bunch, and reading a lot of other peoples writings on here and finding myself largely in agreement with most Entrapdak fan’s assessment of things, I just....feel like all the air is ripped out of me during some moments, watching  with keener insight. And despite thinking i had myself reasonably well figured out by my age, its all also made me further consider a few things about myself as well. Particularly my notable internalized fury response to chunks of it which have been consistent through all my viewings of SPOP. With Hordak at least, its way easier to understand my reactions. For me at least. Maybe not so much for the people around me. And, shittier due to intensity and subject matter, but still easier in the long run because...the broken bits in me that he resonates with are fresher and sharper and still more recent, like within the last ten years, and thus more towards the front shelves in my head, compared to things that resonate with Entrapta, which are all old, lifelong dull aches at this point. I feel like nothing i can point to is fully sufficient to fully express my feels involving Hordak. But, maybe the best representative moment is with the crying i do every damn time I see his face looking up at Prime just after he glimmer and catra were beamed up...because ive seen that face in the mirror. I HAVE MADE THAT FACE. That same. Goddamn. Face. I may not have gotten a jab to the back of the neck directly from the person I made it at...but they often seemed to silently goad me to harm myself in an attempt to jolt my brain out of getting stuck in re-looping through what theyd just done/said to me. Likewise, much of his interactions with Entrapta are very...very weirdly familiar in feeling, but in a good way. Watching the stuff with Hordak hurts because fuck me if it isnt frequently like watching myself back in 2008ish to 2013, which was the duration of the worst parts of that particular circle of hell i parked my ass in. So...that makes sense. Hes so well written in those moments, it occasionally gave me PTSD flashbacks (still does a little, but now im prepared and braced for it and can shrug it back off....thanks, lifetime of therapy and years of studying abnormal psychology! Still totally not an expert, just very passionate...just, as a disclaimer).  Entrapta though...Entrapta is a different story. Mostly, I see Entrapta and in her free expressions of delight and joy and her bouncy enthusiasm I am reminded of a younger, less discouraged me in some ways, and in others, a “me” I could have been, but...well, extremely early-onset anxiety and depression made me insanely self-conscious super-super early on...not that i was great at hiding or...i guess the term people seem comfy with is “masking”? Which was a huge problem, or so it was in the 80s when far less was understood of such things. Id do so for a bit and then would forget to, in a way (because id forget long enough to go and trust again reflexively) and would get badly bullied and would squish everything down until id feel a crumb of safety again, and then almost instantly ADHD would pop that mask right the rest of the way off aaand it would start all over again. Ad nauseam until my teen years, where the depression sort of “fixed” that, and made it much easier to destroy my desire to share much of myself freely at all, save for with one or two people, and to a less deep extent a broader circle of nerd friends. Course, then i hit 30 and ran out of the majority of fucks I used to give. Or I became so damaged and salted with anger that parts of me dont grow any fucks anymore? Either way, plowshares to swords, WHEEEE!) And, maybe thats where this time while watching, I started to really think back to all that, and to how i see Entrapta treated by the other princesses, or really just in general except by Hordak...and why it burns my biscuits so badly. Every time I see someone roll their eyes at Entrapta’s beautiful unbridled enthusiasm or try to make it seem distasteful or at least weird and unwanted and uncomfortable for them but then dont even bother to try coming to terms with why they feel that way... or how they seem to feel free to grab and manhandle her without her consent, or the way they try to lessen her contributions because shes non-normative? Like its the fucking least she can do to make up for being weird in their space (...okay, that might just be the anger kicking in..but i dont feel like its an entirely innacurate assessment, is it?)  All of that...seeing it inflicted upon someone, It feels like someones punched me right in the damn sternum, but because its a hurt that im so desensitized to, it seems to have a much different effect than the sharp, violent crushing pain that i feel when I relate to Hordak a little too well for comfort. Again, i could go on, but its nothing more eloquent people on here havent already spoken volumes on. And my first gut reaction is always “I dont understand! why is that their reaction to her?! it doesnt seem logical at all, i dont seem to be able to parse it correctly, how is this acceptable? I HOPE SHE IMMOLATES YOU ALL.”. Which...I suppose isnt entirely usual for me (the silent wishing that people be immolated, I mean...i blame my past years of working in retail. And devouring too much Warhammer 40k contentl).  (oh gods...and this is going to be the most clusterfucky part cause i can feel my meds kicking in and thats gonna be hard to keep coherence on but i gotta get this all out of my head or ill forget it or get too scared of you fucking BRILLIANT insightful smart people on here and then ill continue to live scared and regretful that i never said..anything, and just sat here like “noticeme, entrapdak sempais!”  Ehhn...which is to say, if this is a garbage dump from here down, dont worry, when i wake up ill fix it...but hopefully itll at least make a tiny bit of sense ) But I realized something...something I hadnt ever rememberd much about due to the shitty neuronormative (apology if thats wrong term) behaviors continuing over years and years but in less and less directly aggressive ways as i grew older and was more prone to losing my shit in , (and likely because I got excessively lucky and managed through...uhhh...agonizing determination? Sheer stubbornness? Alleviatory rebalancing of universal karma? fuck if i know --to  curate a surprisingly supportive circle of other castoffs and misanthropes.) That was exactly how people used to treat me.  OKAY THISLL BE EDITED LATER to add in the rest of what i was gonna say...im...too full of Ambien sleep meds and damn write it anymore...and im aing trouble separating realigty and dream...an i k apawing at the kybord...not safe Lov yous for reading this far. Il fix it later, swears.

[modiintrainguy]

Message to the Mrs

February 26, 2019

On Wednesday last week I had a bit of a bad evening - as usual i built up an expectation of how i was finally going to start organising and deal with things that evening and then i didnt. i sat in the dark when the kids went to sleep and when mrs came home i said id look for a job while she went to the therapist but instead i went to bed and watched some tv programme about a year off on iplayer. then when she came home she said shed been discussing litlun and that even if there are other issues, my “mood swings” have obviously been a big factor. and that was it i felt awful. all i could think of was “they fuck you up your mum and dad”. the mrs saw i wasnt feeling good and asked me why but i just couldnt talk - maybe i gave up too easily but i just shut down. so in the morning i started wrtiting to her on whatsapp to try and explain what happened. then i felt my manager would see, cos i was writing on the computer, so i started writing in a word doc. but i never finished it.

anyway thought i might as well put it here.

This is what i wrote on word:

>>>>>>>>>>>>> One thing that really frustrates me is that we don’t plan things most of the time and then we don’t really do as much as I feel like we should. I feel like we are wasting our lives – we have the opportunity to do things and go places and experience things and we don’t do them. We don’t go on holiday, we don’t go to places. We don’t make plans with other people. This is my fault and your fault but I know that if I knew how much money we had and we planned things properly we could do so much more and get so much more out of life. But of course it means researching where to go, speaking to people, planning things etc. I always feel like we have some sort of amount of money to use on doing stuff and going places and we could use it so much better. also i know this bothers me alot more than it bothers you.

And I forgot to write about how im so confused about my mind/mood issues. I just don’t know what exactly is wrong with me and who I can go to see to work it out and therefore what I should do to improve it. I know something is wrong. Obviously. But I get upset that people are so easy to tell me its depression and I should take antidepressants – because it is such a simplified analysis. all these medications do is increase the amount of serotonin (or dopamine or Norepinephrine) in the brain, and theres no reason to think I have a lack of serotonin/dopamine/Norepinephrine in the brain apart from people kind of guessing that the lack of these neurotransmitters could perhaps be the cause of mental disorders. So by agreeing to take these antidepressants that its like saying the low level of serotonin/dopamine/Norepinephrine must be one of the main reasons for my problems and now we are well on the way to improving things. There is a lot of evidence that these drugs don’t even help and could even make it less likely there will be an improvement in the long term also. And the potential long-term affects are not clear at all – as far as I have seen in the limited amount ive looked into all this, these drugs have permanently change the way your brain works in the long term. Of course, I know that mindfulness and breathing and meditation can help – and I try to do them - but I don’t think they are overall solutions. So im all confused and uncomfortable because I feel like ive got stuck, like im at an impasse.

The one thing ive read/heard about that sounds interesting is called “Critical psychiatry” – a network of psychiatrists who are sceptical about the efficacy of medication and the focus on medication as a cure and on using catch-all terms like depression to describe an individual persons situation. So I thought is should find a psychiatrist who comes from this perspective. Im just uncomfoirtable with spending so much money on sessions unless it really feels like its going to be worth it. Like instead of going to 2 psychology sessions or just one psychiatrist session I could have a brand new pair of trainers.

So the thing is, each day when im in the office all these things rush through my mind. And I think I cant deal with it now so I’ll have to deal with all or at least some of it in the evening.

So I start imagining how in the evening I’ll sit with the computer and plan money and my amazing intermittent fast-keto diet food plan and an exercise plan and jobs and all of our food and supermarket plan and a holiday plan and work out yoga and stuff, and look into the theories and writings about psychological disorders and “critical psychiatry” and possible therapists. and I also know I need to clean up and do washing and stuff and I feel terrible that I leave you to deal with the clothes washing as well as organising money and all the million other regular things u do just to keep our household running normally.

But when I get home I feel overwhelmed  - with the reality of the situation and how bad I feel about how you are tired because I feel like its my fault for not doing enough and for making you feel upset and uncomfortable in your own home because I have what you recently started describing as “mood swings” but really its me getting frustrated with things and expressing that frustration in a negative way.

And im also tired and I feel I deserve to have a rest and I know im going to have to get up early – either 5.30am or 6.30am so I feel like if I don’t go to bed soon im going to be tired.

If I’ve picked up the kids then I can’t do anything till ive put them to sleep, and then I usually sit in the dark for a bit because I don’t want to disturb them once I leave their room and I cant work out what I want to do and also I feel like I cant do anything till I have at least cleaned up the kitchen and organised my draws in my room and dealt with the washing. And I get frustrated about the mess and the dirt and the lack of real organisation and how I can never remember how to do the washing machine and drier.

And if I don’t pick up the kids and get home after they’ve gone to bed I see you sitting there trying to just relax and take yourself out of the stresses of your situation by watching video clips on your phone or on the tablet. And I feel even worse because of what ive done to make you feel like this, even though I know its not only because of me – its because of your stress at work and your dad and you miss your mum and how you feel a bit uncomfortable in Israel and how you worry about the girls and all this other stuff. But still I blame myself because I am to blame for a significant part of this.

And then I start regretting and feeling upset about how ive not stuck to the diet and I fucked up the job interview and I cant work out what I really want out of my job or my life and im never going to have time to organise a holiday or even things to do on Fridays and people to invite and how much we can afford to spend on people.

>>>>>>>

Then i sent this message:

[undesired-attention]

okay, i have a little bit before i want to go to bed so ig ill write about whats been going on

my dad found out i smoke weed, but he hasn’t tried talking to me about it or brought it up to me. he told my mom he knew because i ordered this pretty pipe to smoke from that is a crystal, but i had it accidentally shipped to my house and my dad found it in the mail. it was shipped from china so it had what it was on the package, but he still left it with my ipsy bag to get when i woke up the next day so idk. he’s found out i was doing stuff like that before, maybe not pot but cigarettes and would scream at me and stuff but he didn’t with this, and since he hasn’t yet i know he won’t at all (unless relevant in his eyes in a future fight, always possible). he basically told my mom to tell me not to get caught with it in my car, which i wont. 

these next two things are both things that happened yesterday so these are what sparked the slight urge/interest in wanting to type it all out,

so first i came back from lunch yesterday and my roommate was standing in our kitchen and said “you just missed the craziest shit” and i was like lol, okay what. she broke up with her boyfriend over the weekend and had sex with another boy (what a life, right? whatever tho) and he was in our room with her yesterday just hanging out because they are really good friends and are going on a group trip somewhere and were looking at plane tickets. so she heard the front door open and close then heard nothing, so she got up and opened her bedroom door and her ex was right there screaming at her to open her door and talk to him and she was holding the door closed screaming at him to leave and the boy in the room was helping, but apparently he had ACL surgery recently and couldn’t really help, so her ex eventually got in. he shoved my roommate into the closet, knocking her curtain down (we don’t have closet doors in our dorms here) on her face, then started screaming at the boy “you fucked my girlfriend” because he had hickeys on his neck from the previous night with her, and he just made up a lie that he had a gf and whatever. so they got into a fist fight, it moved out into our kitchen, then out into the dorm hall and my roommate was screaming and calling the police and the RA down the hall. 

so at this point her ex runs out of the building with my RA chasing him telling him to stop, 5 cops show up, and it was 12:30 and she had class at 1 so they only talked to her for a few seconds and then she had to leave for class then go to the police station after. (this is when i came back, there was no cops and she was literally walking out the door) well her ex was texting her saying “im on campus, im not telling you where i am, and im not leaving until you talk to me” so she had a bunch of bigger boys walk her to class, and basically her friends ended up seeing him just off campus at a wawa and chased him here into the police station (where she was at this point, after class) and she didn’t press charges and neither did the boy he fought, but the police banned him from campus. 

--okay next story 

also yesterday, i went to my clinical. i really wasn’t in the mood, i was tired. our prof. showed up 40 minutes late and said the boy in our group who was assigned to go to the children’s ER (special experience for our peds rotation) called in sick so one of us needed to go in his place, so i went because we don’t have to fill out any paperwork due the following week so that just made my life slightly easier at this point in time. so i got down there and talked to the charge nurse and she said they were getting an emergency trauma in ~5 minutes so just to hang around and watch (usually we are assigned a nurse, nothing exciting usually happens, just respiratory infections usually or accidents like broken bones and burns) so they got this 17 yo girl unconscious from a suspected suicide attempt and i got to watch in the room as like 20 people total were talking and running around getting stuff for her. it really was exciting, i got to watch them insert an IO (im assuming thats how you use the abbreviation) which is an IV they drill into the bone in the leg when they can’t get peripheral IVs in (happens in IV drug users, this girl was very dark skinned though and it was hard to see veins) so they draw her blood, get her on a vent, insert foley, several epi drips, several narcan attempts (antidote for heroin) and nothing was reeeeally helping, so the lab work came back and she had a blood sugar of 1400, which is AMAZING because that’s INSANE i’ve NEVER EVER EVER heard of blood sugar over 600-700 range from when i work in the ICU as an aide and i take blood sugars there, but this was basically BEYOND critically high. i didn’t even believe the nurses when they told the doctor in front of me, i thought they had to have been talking about a different value. her creatine was also SEVEN, for an ADULT female it should be under basically 1, she isn’t even an adult yet and it was 7x that.

basically, her Dx was diabetes, DKA to be specific. she didn’t have a known diagnosis of diabetes, so this wasn’t expected at all. the nurse told me this girl must have been sick for months and nobody really noticed. so because her creatine was 7 and BS 1400, her kidneys were basically destroyed. she will be on dialysis for the rest of her life because of this. another doctor came in to insert a dialysis catheter so they could start her STAT because that was the only way to lower her levels at that point and i was just like a lil mouse squeak “can i watch?” and he was like “yes please! that would be great, as a nurse you’ll assist in these and it will be really educational.” so i was like iight then, i had to basically scrub in and then he talked me through (along with a med student) how it all worked, it was really cool actually and there was a LOT of blood, which doesn’t bother me but i’ve just never in person experienced that before. it was pretty neat, the whole experience was not expected. at one point a nurse asked me”do you have any questions?” and i was like “oh god, not that i can think of,, i wasn’t even supposed to be here today!” so i got really lucky. i won’t be able to follow up with her, but hopefully she is okay and can recover. 

the last thing i wanted to mention that was shocking:

i was sitting at my window last thursday and it was a really really nice day so my window was left open (i open it to smoke cigarettes out of it, not allowed but i’m just a rebel whatever) and i heard a girl sobbing and screaming into her phone below my window and i looked down and there is a little table hidden in an area where you can’t really see it, the main lounge in my building protrudes from the rest and there is all picnic tables around it and it’s just a little corner where people go to smoke weed and stuff, so i just took a picture of her and sent it to my friends saying there was a girl screaming at her boyfriend on the phone crying below me. so about 5 minutes later i look back down because she’s still crying and she’s just clearly (from my angle, directly above her) cutting herself. she kept looking around to see if anyone could see, but she never looked up. i was SO SHOCKED at this point that i texted one of my friends who has gone through a lot of the same things as me (past history of self harm, to a pretty “bad” extent) and asked if she was in her room (my building) and she wasn’t, she was still in class so i told her what was going on and so she told me when she was leaving and a minute or so after she started walking back the girl got up and left. i just didn’t know what to do, i just know i’m the type of person that when i’m upset or even when i used to hurt myself and if i ever did again, i don’t like talking about it. if someone tried i’d just shut them down or walk away. but i didn’t know this girl at all, so i didn’t know if she was going to flip out, run, try to hurt herself/me so i didn’t go down. it all happened so fast so i didn’t call anyone else, and she hasn’t been back since.

it was just surprising and like blood-chilling to look down and see a girl hurting herself because i’ve never WATCHED someone else do it, i used to do it really bad, i have scars from my wrist to my armpit on my right arm (left handed aye), some on my left upper forearm, my thighs and stomach so i can really relate to self harm, but i just have a hard time relating to people because my friends in high school were just complete opposites of me, they were/are just such happy people overall and none of my close friends ever were depressed or self harmed so i just never really had anyone to relate. so i didn’t know what to do. 

okay, so that’s all of it. i feel really bad it’s so long, but it’s been about a weeks worth of stuff built up.