#Tw personal

[zorosdimples]

being (mostly) offline for the past few days has been positive. i got a decent start on packing, and today i was able to travel and be with lucy as she passed on. i’m not ready to return, yet. in the meantime i’m sending you all my love; i hope everyone is doing well.

[queen-of-obsessing]

maybe everything i do really is pointless and i should go sit on a rock by the lake somewhere and become one with the moss

[delirious-donna]

tw: pet loss and grief

My cat Luna crossed the rainbow bridge this afternoon. I am devastated. She was 13 and loved for every second of her life. It was the right thing to do in the end because I couldn’t bear her being in pain for another minute. She fell asleep in my arms, against my chest.

Consider this a hiatus notice for however long I need. Please do not send me asks or messages about this, I appreciate the sympathy but I can’t process them right now.

[amywritesthings]

I got approved.

I have a lot of emotions to process. My date is February 26 (only 4 days from my birthday, unfortunately, but that was the earliest offered) but I'm on a wait-list for moving up.

I appreciate everyone's patience with me.

[crazylittlejester]

being a psych major is so much fun i LOVE having to fucking watch the most triggering video ever but not being able to email my professor like “hey sorry I couldn’t do the homework I actually had a panic attack because of your fucking assignment and couldn’t make it through the goddamn video without severely damaging my mental health and setting myself back MONTHS or YEARS of healing because the assignment was about people ‘like me’ and there are no words to describe how genuinely fucked up this video is” because for a psych professor they don’t fucking understand other people’s experiences and they also don’t give a shit. if you don’t do it its a zero!! hahaha!!!!

[weaverpop]

Life sucks. I am stuck behind a train. Yay.

[sillygoblinantics]

Can I trauma dump for a second?

Personal essay by Bri

Can I be vulnerable with you all for a brief post? You don’t have to read what’s under here if you don’t want to hear about dark thoughts and events from my childhood. So take this as a content warning going forward, especially if you are not in a good state of mind I want you to ignore this post and check out my other light hearted stuff in the meantime. 🩵

In the past month spanning the duration of September, Lily Orchard has made several posts answering self asks where she makes various and progressively worse than the last threats on many people who she labels are stalkers.

Each of these posts were said throughout the month that is a very particular awareness month: suicide prevention month. The amount of ways she’s phrased it are just heartless and reckless.

Today, being no different than the others has struck a cord to me personally.

For context:

I was transferred to a school for kids with learning disabilities when I was 9 in the middle fourth grade. At this private school I would receive proper education and resources that would help me excel but in less than four years at this school I would be the target and victim to one boy’s torment and abuse. Let’s call him Pepsi, because he wouldn’t shut up about bragging about how his mom was ceo of the company’s local branch. Pepsi had been a troubled boy who had bullied kids before I arrived and because of his parents the school couldn’t do anything outside of suspension. I being prone to teasing and not understanding tone or jokes due to being born autistic was the perfect target for Pepsi. So he would harass and pick on me: tripping me in hallways, flipping me off, calling me names and messing with something I showed interest in, standard bullying stuff. During this time I was slowly driven into high stress/anxiety and shortly following I would have depression. I would hurt myself by scratching my arms with paperclips which my mom would eventually request the school have a teacher escort me to and from the bathroom just so I wouldn’t self harm. This was between 4th, 5th and 6th grade.

It was around here that I begun having suicidal ideation… I tried asphyxia: belt, infinity scarf and even a cats-in-the-cradle toy. These attempts were always at home and would be stopped by my parents… at one point my old dog came bursting in to check on me when I was crying my eyes out and wouldn’t leave my side until she made sure I was ok.

(I’m tearing up over that specific memory as I type this out… she was a very good dog…)

Seventh grade Pepsi would do something that began my ideations and planning that would go into effect the next grade. During a school dance, I decided to invite my brother and his two friends as I didn’t know any guys or really thought someone liked me. I tried to hangout with my brother on the bleachers in the gym. While sitting on the bleachers one of my peers approached and asked if I’d slow dance with them. No boy ever did this and I thought it was genuine I was so happy until at the other side of the gym, under the basket ball hoop against the wall, surrounded by other boys (who weren’t goons) I saw Pepsi, laughing. Laughing and pointing and I still remember the feeling I had as I could feel my lil heart shatter into pieces in my chest.

I ran to the bathrooms tears running down my face. My brother and his friends saw this and were about to beat Pepsi up but the school chaperones stopped them. I wish they didn’t.

From then to eighth grade I was barely myself and would sit in class staring out the windows down the long uphill half mile long driveway that cut through a small bit of woods and opened to the busy road. I’d watch all kinds of cars pass: big cars, small cars, pickup trucks, suvs, eighteen wheelers, buses and all sorts of vehicles pass by between the tree line. I’d watch and imagine myself being hit, thinking of the day I’d enact this plan.

I was excited for eighth grade, not only would I be graduating and headed for high school but it was the year our grade would get to perform one of two Shakespeare plays! The class before us did Romeo and Juliet and our class would get to perform the Scottish play. I was excited even if I was a narrator. My mom made it clear to the school and teachers to make sure that Pepsi and I were kept apart at all times. At. All. Times.

The one time during rehearsal, when me and Pepsi were in the same room, the one moment that a teacher stepped out for just a few minutes. Pepsi took the opportunity and berated me, said every nasty thing he could at me.

I can’t remember most but what I know is something about my weight and that no one would love me and that I should die.

I felt a switch go off and suddenly I was speed walking towards the door of the gym (the stage was in the gym since the art and music classes were connected to the gym) and as I was walking I could hear my teacher calling my name but I didn’t look back. Once I got out the door I ran, I ran so fast.

I ran down the hill, the sound of my shoes hitting the pavement echoed in my ears still and the only thing in my mind were: the plan but also the hope that I was still being chased by the teacher, I kept running and running and by the third Italian cypress tree that lead to the small forested area and up the driveway of the school I skidded to a halt. I caught my breath and with a glimmer of hope for a hand to grab me I looked behind me:

…

The teacher wasn’t there… they stopped chasing me. Why did they stop chasing me? Weren’t they suppose to care?! Why aren’t they here?! I looked back at the road now crying for a different reason. I flaked out… I couldn’t go through with the plan. ‘No one would care’ I thought… so I turned around and ran back up the hill and past the school buildings and near the back where I waited and cried for the day to be over or for someone to notice me. The advisor or some type of teacher; who would take his class on nature walks behind the school on the old trails where an amphitheater was; found me. I didn’t tell my mom at pick up. I told my first therapist about it and later was sent to a hospital and then five days at a literal hell where it only instilled fear of being vulnerable and honest about my mental health stayed. I had to stay out of school for a few months until I could graduate… I missed my chance to be a narrator for the play, I fumbled my science fair… I would forget about this day until I was a junior in high school with a new counselor and my mom. I only had dreams of running down the hill of my middle school and I never knew why until my mom told me and my counselor… those dreams stopped after the revelation.

I was twelve years old when I tried to kill myself via being hit by a car.

Lily orchard, you have no fucking right to act like the bigger person because you’re trans or native or whatever bullshit you spew.

It’s been two or three years since I’ve had any suicidal thought, a year since I’ve self harmed and I refuse to relapse now.

I don’t wish any horrible thing on you, no one does, no one has or will ever wish harm or ill will on you. And the people who do have something to say about you are validated after putting up with your abuse that has been documented on so many occasions.

I don’t wish what I have gone through on my middle school bully, I wouldn’t wish the worst thing ever on him. I wouldn’t wish the worst fate even on you.

The only thing I wish you get: is help. Actually human help.

And Lily, if I see you talk smack about anyone’s mother or father like this again, there’s nothing I can do in my power to act; because you’ve already done it to yourself.

———————————

Thank you to those who aren’t Lily orchard for reading this, it’s a heavy subject for me that as I share and open up about becomes much lighter and helps me get the strength and confidence to be able to be honest with the people I care most about outside of the internet.

While I can say I’m in a better place it’s always changing but it’s gotten easier to manage and recenter myself.

Stay safe everyone (ówò)

[zorosdimples]

i have a screening call for a job prospect and i’m so fucking nervous i feel like throwing up

[mandyyvibes]

bucky barnes ass thing to say in retrospect

[theirlivesarchive]

birthday  tattoo  has  finally  healed  up  enough  for  me  to  share!  i  had  this  stain  covered  up  in  december,  but  it  was  a  rough  one  to  go  over  due  to  scarring  and  being  dark,  which  left  it  bumpy  for  a  while.  i’ve  spent  ten  years  hating  this  tattoo  and  the  history  behind  it.  i  initially  wanted  this  tattoo  to  represent  my  mom’s  first  battle  with  breast  cancer    [...]    as  you  can  see,  it’s  mostly  ended  up  a  blob.  that’s  because  i  had  it  done  drunk on  my  abusive  ex-partner’s  couch  after  a  night  of  him  treating  me  like  shit  because  i  wore  an  outfit  he  didn’t  approve  of.  the  'hope'  almost  ended  up  being  his  name  because  he    &    the  tattooist  'thought  that  would  be  funny'.  it  also  represents  the  month  i  fell  pregnant  and  later lost  our  baby.  every  time  i  look  at  it,  i’m  only  ever  reminded  of  bad  things.  now,  it’s  finally  gone  and  been  replaced  with  a  beautiful  lotus  flower.  i  didn’t  initially  choose  a  lotus  flower.  my  tattooist  suggested  it  as  our  best  option,  but  when  i  went  home  to  research,  i  learnt  it  has  many  meanings  including  representing  rebirth  and  rising  from  a  dark  place  into  beauty.  i’ve  spent  the  last  year  trying  really  hard  to  have  a  better  relationship  with  myself,  my  body  and  my  mental  health  by  quitting  the  shit  that  isn’t  good  for  me.  this  tattoo  is  just  another  one  of  those  things  and  the  flower  now  feels  very  fitting  for  the  girl  who  celebrated  nine  months  sober  yesterday.  feeling  a  little  emotional!  tldr:  i  got  a  new  tattoo,  isn’t  it  pretty?

[ae-azile]

Struggling right now. Just tested positive for pregnancy, but found out my HCG levels are super low. Doctor likes to see them at 50 at minimum. I asked what mine were and was told 8. It was my first blood test for it and the range is technically 5 - 400, but it's so low for my suspected dates currently. It's possible I ovulated 2 days after I suspected and implanted late, but I feel so hopeless, anxious, defeated, and alone right now since a risk of a chemical miscarriage seems so high, if it already hasn't happened. I am going to try to write in order to take my mind off it but I don't even know how good it will be.

[delirious-donna]

Groceries secured ✅

Meals planned for the weekend ✅

Time to prep 💪

[amywritesthings]

found out a lot of people are resigning from my department at work so that means my workload is going to be a nightmare. i've kind of just not been in the writing mood (i've been reading and overall in a funk that i hope to kick this week) but -- chances are my schedule is going to be up in the air.

[weaverpop]

Fixing to try a cherry chai frappe. Update when taste tp revew

[violetjedisylveon]

One of the first things I did after coming out of anesthesia was tell the nurse with me I thought Nemona was really pretty!

I really said that, I said she was pretty! She is but I didn't expect to say that out loud and only realized I had until I was home eating dinner 😂

The nurse and I talked about Pokémon too! She had Pokémon go and showed me all her shinies! It was awesome!

I also told her about getting Pokémon Violet for Christmas and naming my sprigatito after my kitty. And how I made a friend with a sandwich.

i am the purpleist bitch ever in that game, I am so purple!

And I am still dizzy as fuck, I needed help getting up this morning, the anti nausea patch I still have on has that side effect but I'm keeping in on cause I don't wanna puke, dizziness and needing help down the stairs is better than puking. Also it was ear surgery so balance is wonky.

All the nurses and doctors were really surprised how chill I was before going into the surgery, it's not my first rodeo with this surgery. And last time I was six.

They didn't knock me out until I was in the operating room, makes sense cause I can see how the operating room would scare a little kid, they also didn't tell me about the throat tube when I was a kid, again makes sense because that would freak a six year old out.

I was already on the relaxing medicine by the time I was in the operating room. I was already getting silly, before they wheeled me out I was deign double of one guy's hand, just one, the other was normal it was weird. I thought to operating room looked cool.

Last thing I remember was the oxygen mask on my face and waking up to an out of body experience, I didn't realize I was awake and kept trying to get out of bed, the nurse had to keep pushing and pulling me back down until I realized oh I'm awake now, I know where I am now, I don't need to run.

The nurse was much happier that I just tried to get up instead of waking up swinging, which has happened to her before

Am I rambling? Yes. I'm still not fully in my body, and my brain is on over share mode

Bye

[queen-of-obsessing]

see, the lord of the rings was my childhood. it left me in awe and created a wide-eyed, insatiable desire for fantasy adventures in me that has stayed with me my whole life. it's magnificent, oozing nostalgia, my family quotes every second line.

but the hobbit was my teen years. that was the one that taught me fandom and tumblr stannage, the one i wrote fics for, shipped my first gay ship (hi thorinduil), got into internet arguments, had a thranduil pfp on pretty much every social media site i was on for months...i owe everything i am today to the hobbit.