#also he told me if he gets dementia there’s nothing to do so I need to stop stressing about it

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[mommahughes19-23]

Close as Strangers - B.B

“Through the tears I can hear that I shouldn't have gone, every day it gets harder to stay away from you”

summary : Brock’s playing in the stanley cup with the team. He looses and you tell him how you really feel. you’re a nurse and you’re overwhelmed and miss him.

A.N : Wrote this on my break, edited. enjoy tho. xoxoxo,M

You stand over your last patient of the day, an elder woman who on any other day you would feel bad for and have way more compassion than you do at this current moment. You live in Minnesota and you’ve known the Boeser family since you and Brock were in diapers, born a week apart and your mom’s both attending the same ‘mommy and me’ group. You are currently interning at Minnesota State Hospital as part of your last year in grad school, and to say it was overwhelming was an understatement. You and Brock typically spoke every night despite the time difference, yet lately you guys spoke maybe 5 minutes per week with the busy life you both had. Brock was still in Vancouver as the Canucks were still in the playoffs, you worked 12 hours 5 days a week.

“Miss Nurse, can you give me my meds and be gone” the patient you had just given meds to not less than 5 minutes prior had dementia and again any other day you would be more calm, but after getting thrown up on, slapped by an older patient also with dementia you had had it. “I just told you I gave them to you!” you raised your voice and huffed out. Your coworker looked at you as if to say he would finish up and you should head home for the night. You walk to the center reception desk and clock out not bothering to say anything to anyone, grabbed your bag and walked out to the elevator. You felt your phone buzz to life as you were prohibited from carrying it during your shifts as it was a distraction, 13 missed calls from Brock… You click his name and call him back though it’s only 5am your time so 2am his.

“Hey bug.” he says through the phone, “Hey sorry B, I was at work what’s up?” you tried your best to hold in your emotions but you had been so ready to let the tears flow once you got to your car it was like a leaky faucet that just got worse. “Well we lost, we are out of the play offs. The guys probably hate me for not playing.” you honestly felt numb for a moment, trying to process how you would comfort your best friend and suppress your own emotions. You thought you would be able to just pour your heart out through the phone to Brock like you used to and he would say all the right things like he always did, 6 weeks or 6 months since he’s been away. Hockey and the idea of the Canucks not making it through to the finals were the least of your worries. None the less you responded “I’m sorry to hear that B, not your fault though, you need to remember to take your health seriously. You’re of less use hurt than you are on the side for a little. The guys understand.” you say shaky as you comfort him in the way you longed for him to do for you.

“I know but this blood clot thing was the last thing I needed and it just sucks that I couldn’t be there in person to cheer them on.” “I hear you but you can’t focus on the what ifs. But uh- is it uhm - is it cool if I call you back in a little. I just- just got off and I’m gonna head home.” you say slightly hiccuping trying not to let the tears fall.

“Bug, are you ok? You sound like you’re about to have a panic attack, and don’t say you’re fine I can tell you’re not.” He responds. You let the tears start flowing and you’re honestly scared that you may not be able to stop. “I don’t know Brock, I want to be a nurse so bad and I have worked so hard but these long hours and missing you and not having you here to comfort me I just don’t know how to do it.” You say in one breath. “I don’t want to give up because all my work will have been for nothing but, how the FUCK do i get through this lack of sleep and pressure”. “You miss me?” he says as if he is oblivious to you’re hints you have been dropping for months now. “Yes of course, you’re the only one who knows how - how - how to help me when- i -i am like this. I think I love you.” you say through your sobs.

“Forget the stanley cup we can mourn my loss later, baby I can tell through the tears that I shouldn’t have gone to Vancouver, and I want you to know it gets harder every day to stay away from you. I want to fly you out to all my games and I want you to wear my jersey and I want to call you mine baby. What do you say, I’ll be back home in a few days, can you wait for me a little longer and we can talk in person?” “I’ll wait forever for you, I can’t wait to have you back home.” “I love you bug.” he says, you smile so big and wipe the rest of the dried tears. “I love you more.”

“6 months since I went away, and to know everything has changed, and tomorrow I’ll be coming back to you.”

Tags : @skylershines @puck-luck @quinnylouhughesx43 @noahkahansorangejuice

gimme feedback thanks. will edit around 8 my time.

[nayruwu]

hi guys! it's me again on my way to throw some salt because i'm starting to believe guren belongs in a retirement home to be treated for early onset dementia.

so i'm reading the chapter, and it's all fine and good, i love it, go krul, go ferid, whatever. and then even guren shows up! i was waiting for that. but then i see this

and it's like, uh, yeah, weird thing to say considering she literally is the person that caused "everyone" to die for her own goals, but this isn't a new thing. he's said some shit like "if i had just let myself die along shinya, mahiru and the others" before, and it was odd then, it's odd now. anyway, then comes this

and i'm like?? hello???? this is a hundred times worse than "dying together with everyone", because it takes his friends out of the equation entirely and gives the image of someone who doesn't even care if they left them behind, who just wants to go and die together with their murderer. which does not fit the image i have of guren at all.

you may know that this notion itself is also not new, since he did try to die with mahiru by throwing himself and her out of a window in catastrophe (hence the "back then"). the thing is, she had not killed his friends at that point. to him she was just a broken girl and if he could end her suffering by dying alongside her, his saviour complex ass would have done it. he also hadn't yet come to the realisation of how much he loved and needed his friends. but to say this now??? i feel personally offended on behalf of guren squad, lol. imagine if he fucking died and left them to spend their last 2 years alive wondering about all the lies and the hurt, having no way of knowing their end is near, probably blaming themselves for not being able to help him even though he brought it upon himself willingly. it just makes me want to. urgh. it's horrible, and it makes no sense.

and yeah, i'm not going to pretend that i'm not also offended because of this.

did this just mean nothing?? this shit was so emotional, the original scene, the fact that he still remembers exactly what shinya told him eight years ago, for THIS? for him to say the same exact thing TO THE PERSON WHO KILLED HIM? sach mal hast du lack gesoffen oder was??

the dissonance between him shedding all those tears over his friends' deaths and then acting this way towards mahiru, i just. i do not get it.

and like, i hear the people saying that he's just pretending, he's only staying so calm because he has his own plan, he's going to betray mahiru, and i want to believe that, i really do. it' the only thing that would make sense. but as awesome and fitting of a plot twist as that would be, i will not set myself up for further disappointment and believe it.

maybe we're just doomed to watch guren and mahiru get married and have 5 kids that they name in honour of his dead friends, who knows.

salt over

[nice-bright-colors]

Stuck between a rock…

…and a hard place.

Warning: Ranting to follow.

Nothing has been going my way this year. It has taken far too long to get started on things, and I still need to wait another month. It’s been 14 months since this work was first initialized.

I’m tired of waiting.

I’ve also come to the realization that I’m rarely happy, unless I’m working, or alone.

Attempting to plan something for us to do requires: a) food she can eat, b) bathrooms that aren’t “outdoorsy”, c) relative easy conditions, d) more food because god forbid she goes 3-1/2 hours without eating, e) beers that aren’t anywhere near the hoppy side, f) don’t get me started on hard seltzer or cider, g) air conditioning, h) shade, because the sun is bad, i) me to figure out how to get there, j) me to drive, k) me to figure out a place to stay, l) me to get us tickets, m) did I mention the snacks required in between meals, n) more water than is humanly possible to consume, o) must have a scenic view, p) it would help if there are no people, q) must have some shopping to do there, and r) if there’s something therapeutic or whole earth body thing about it that will help.

At least when I travel for work, I’m making money. Plus I’m getting reimbursed for money I’m spending. Most of all, I’m alone.

No. This month has a trip planned for us to go visit my family in Michigan. It will also be our 28th wedding anniversary weekend. Let’s see, shall we…

1) 85 year old Aunt has fallen twice in the last months. Plus she’s had a concussion. Plus they think she might have the start of dementia. 2) 80 year old Father has learned his car frame has a crack, and can’t afford anything new. Plus has forgotten numerous things over the last few months. Plus does nothing but watch MSNBC all day. Plus has imminent kidney failure. Plus doesn’t want to start dialysis. Plus wants me to eat a steak with him to reminisce about something he did for my 19th birthday (over 32 years ago). Plus has verbally told anyone who’ll listen he is ready to die. 3) My BIL has gambled away whatever money he had from his parents dying. Plus the $40K my Father have them. Plus has failed to secure disability for 3 years now (guess what? they’ve probably followed you to the casino). 4) My 53 year old sister will be lucky if she makes it to 60. Her matriarchal lineage would have her on track to die at 65. 5) My 59 year old cousin has graciously invited everyone to her house, when she has gone on record to not allow my BIL or nephew there anymore. 6) My 20 year old nephew doesn’t work, is afraid of everything and everyone, absolutely hates his father, and is threatening to run away to the arms of an older man in Florida.

I’m just so tired of having to manage and do everything for everyone else. Tired of being the rock in this family that is stoic enough for everyone.

I really hope I can coast Oct - Feb on this shit down in San Antonio. Then if nothing else comes my way, my ass will be buying a single, one-way ticket to “who fucking knows, and don’t fucking ask”. Never to be seen or heard from again.

Fín.

[undeadorion-archive]

Specifically physical health, mental health is a whole other kettle of fish.

For example, I had chronic ear infections from the time I was born until I had my tonsils out at 5. The entire time growing up, my mom told me I had scar tissue around the bones in my ears from it and I'd need surgery once I was an adult. A surgery that had a chance of making me go deaf. I had that hanging over my head for ages until I finally had the courage to ask a doctor about it. He said my records didn't show anything about that, but he referred me to a specialist. He checked me out and said there wasn't even a speck of scar tissue, but I likely had a mild audio processing disorder instead. No one knew where the hell she got the idea about the scar tissue.

Another example. Since we were teenagers, my younger sister had a rather aggressive tick. Like she'd sometimes pull a muscle doing it, but she'd never actually feel it happen. One day, when we were in our 20s, my mom insisted that my sister was destined for early onset dementia and an early death as early as her 30s or 40s. She insisted that she'd sent my sister's brain scans to a the Mayo Clinic (because she thinks I'd think you can just do that) and the reason for her ticks was the blood vessels in her brain were too small and eventually it wouldn't be able to get enough oxygen. Well, my sister's going to be 40 next year. It turns out her ticks were actually Tourettes and there's nothing wrong with the blood flow in her brain.

Then again, my mom also told us she was a nurse until I saw her resume and she was just a desk secretary and she never went to any sort of medical school. Even after that, she was always coming home with tales of her heroic actions saving lives like by sitting on a patient's gurney and giving them chest compressions until a doctor could get there. Meanwhile she had so many health issues she couldn't carry a laundry basket up the stairs. Never mind the legality of giving treatment to a patient without a medical license.

[avenger-hawk]

hi guys. I'm sorry I said I'd update my fics then disappeared...life is hard. Last year, after my dad died, I first had an argument with the family doctor who treated him like shit, and I lost my patience and insulted him in front of ppl, then I wrote a negative review about him on google, like ppl always do right? well this asshole went to the police and pressed charges against me, so now I have a penal case on me, which is scary. Not like going to jail scary but like having a criminal record anyway....for a fucking review. I am so ashamed of this I'd like to disappear from the universe, because it brought shame to my family, and problems, as this costs money, to pay a lawyer, to pay for the fine I'll surely have when this ends, and it's long cause italian law is long and not efficient or fair, maybe to pay for 'moral damage' if this asshole continues, when the moral damages for treating my ill father like shit I should have sued him for, if I had money to waste. And I was born wealthier, and raised as such, so it's very depressing and angering for me to think that in the past this would have been solved easily, with a compromise, offering him a big sum of money and making him close the case (legally I mean), but since my father himself made financial mistakes, it's not possible, and the only possible solution is to do social work for who knows how long, so for the whole time I'll be reminded of my mistake, of how badly my father died, of how shitty my life is, how unfair, because how many ppl write negative reviews and nothing happens, but this asshole was set on making me pay, playing the victim when he literally told us to use earplugs if my father screamed in pain, since he was dumb from dementia. But nope, he doesn't pay, I have to.

So basically to put my problems in perspective I have to remind myself of all the ppl who have it worse than me, like ppl who live in countries in war, women in countries that don't give them rights, and so on. But you know, there are also ppl who have it better, ppl who do bad things and get away with it, ppl whose father didn't make messes before getting ill and dying badly, leaving his daughter in this shitty situation.

anyway, all this boring stuff cause I guess I needed to vent, and cause my mental state isn't great, so I can't focus on anything. Sorry.

[ramblingdisaster73]

I do NOT believe that Owen lied to TK about his results. That would be cruel and I truly do not think that is something that Owen is capable of doing – not even to temporarily make TK feel good/safe – not after the efforts he has been making.

I do NOT think that TK really would have rather not known or that he was mad that Owen told him. He was worried – justifiably so, but I think his father’s honesty was more important to him than the possibility of being in the dark about yet another potential health scare.

I do NOT think that TK overreacted to the bomb that he had a 1 in 4 chance of having a degenerative disease – in fact, I think he reacted a hell of a lot better than I would have.

I do NOT think that any part of TK wanted Carlos to take the out he was offering. I think the guilt of what that future would hold for Carlos terrifies him more than anything.

I watched my grandfather progress through a neurodegenerative disease that isn’t as aggressive as Huntington’s, but still very devastating. He couldn’t do anything on his own for the last couple of years of his life, nothing. I watched my MIL lose herself to dementia, watched my husband and FIL lose a very important person long before her body gave out.

As a medical professional – TK would have at least a basic understanding of the disease, he would have the knowledge to understand some of the language that not everyone else could understand easily without aid.

His concerns were for Carlos – he didn’t just not want to be a burden for Carlos, someone he had to take care of. But he also didn’t want Carlos to have to live that life. A life of caring for someone that might not even know who you are, someone that can’t even chew their food or be able to hold your hand. – None of that is easy.

Many relationships and marriages end after a devastating medical diagnosis. That is a very real reality that people have to live with and consider – and those are for treatable diseases too, not just the terminal ones.

While the symptoms for the disease may not present themselves for 20+ years, TK (& Owen) would just be living with that over them. That at any point, their bodies will just stop working.

I know that we can die at any time, anywhere. That time isn’t promised and that they both (TK & Carlos) work in high-risk jobs being first responders – but (at least to me) there is a difference between a random accident and knowing you will be dying, that it will be miserable and that the people/person that love you will have to do everything for you and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.

All season we have watched TK be there and be very supportive of Carlos. He didn’t get mad about being lied to, adjusted his thoughts of their future when they didn’t match Carlos without asking for any compromise in return. This time – he needed Carlos to be there for him – AND HE WAS. It was beautiful and started to defrost my very chilled heart.

I DO think that TK was more concerned about how his potential illness would impact Carlos than how it would actually impact him.

I DO think that Carlos loves TK with everything in him – and that he is just starting to be comfortable with it being out loud.

I DO think that there will be a tragedy next week and have an idea on what that will be – but that it will still be a beautiful wedding – even if the one we see in the promo isn’t the real one.

[nerves-nebula]

SO FOLLOW UP TO YOUR QUESTION

the reason my mother continued to believe I had powers because they worked on her apparently (I was tasked with healing her joint pain, arthritis, and also memory problems <- nothing says "hey 9 year old wanna bond?" like your mother pulling you aside in isolation so you can heal "the dementia she can feel forming" after she forgot your birthday lmao

IDK if it actually works or not (all the adults I had access to pretty much either ignored my mother's stuff or went with it, so they'd be like "yeppers this kid has powers :)") HOWEVER I can ""apparently"" heal her injuries, put her to sleep, make her laugh uncontrollably, give her "the power to not need food", and stuff like that.

She's also had (VERY VERY) minor cancer 3 time and partway believes that because ""I am a healer of the stars"" that I was what helped "fix her" and has been bugging me to go fix other people so there's no more cancer. That delusion hasn't been around for a while but BOY those are odd times.

For the clouds, weather and wind honestly it was literally just like. If you look at a cloud long enough it's going to change shape. If you look at a blank spot in the sky there's a chance a cloud will form. I had this whole system set up where I had explanations about "there is [insert thing here] that lowers the possibility of this happening, so the effects take longer and may be harder to tell without special focus" so I could get out of trouble if I wasn't able to stop it from raining because she forgot an umbrella or stuff like that.

(bonus points. I was always blamed for when it snowed and if she heard about any car accidents or whatever that happened in our area she'd tell me and told me I shouldn't do that because I was going to kill people. If I said I liked the rain she told me I was going to influence the world to make that reality and if I did so anyone that died then was because of me. General quirky stuff like that.)

She REALLY wanted me to learn the fire trick but I never managed that, however I supposedly "can raise the temperature of people's bodies to combat the cold". which honestly that was just a way for her to not need to buy more clothes or shoes without holes because "I can warm myself without those things".

If you don't mind me telling a small story, I feel like you'd like to hear about the era where I was "taught how to transmutate liquids into other liquids"! <- (side note: I am not jesus)

it's literally what it sounds like. We were at a Pizza Hut and I was about 13 or 14 and had recently had an argument with her (that she'd forgotten) about how autism is real and not ""humans that are more closely related to our ancestors because their last past lives were of non-human entities and they failed to fully adapt to their new form"" AKA I wanted to get tested for autism because there are signs:tm:

But she completely forgot about that and decided that here, at a busy pizza hut while it was dark out that it was time that I branch out to making drinks taste like other drinks. Now at restaurants I was only allowed lemonade, water, and iced tea. At home I only had water. So my task, in a public space no less, was to "make the water taste like beer" and she would compare it to the beer my father ordered (he's not an alcoholic, he's mostly checked out of reality or agreeing with her).

So for the full length of time we were at the pizza hut I had to turn whatever glass of water they gave me into beer AND APPARENTLY (?????) IT WORKED because she claimed she could taste the beer-ness, but told me I didn't make it taste beer-like enough so they had me drink some of the beer so I could match the flavour. They decided I could work on that later and next my mother tasked me with being able to mimic drug states through the transmutation of water. SO, AGAIN in a public pizza hut where multiple people could and probably were overhearing, I was told to make the water not only taste like beer, but have the effect of alcohol.

My mother is very much a lightweight and after other days of training with this she'd sometimes act kinda drunk, and who knows how real that was. BUT after that I was given the task to ""channel the energy of weed"" to make someone high. I'd test on her because at that point she was sure that the witch hunters would kill me if I spoke to people and also that other people would be so jealous that they'd kidnap me or whatever. she was also very very pushy about the idea that people would kidnap me for a sex ring so. who knows what goes through her head

But anyways after that whole thing I wasn't given medication anymore (not that I ever really was. I've only had antibiotics twice and both times were enforced by CPS) because ""I could connect to the pure essence of the drug and heal myself with that"" because ""I am more connected to the true energetic nature of our reality"" etc etc

As a side note another reason why she thought I was a star child was because I was orphaned when I was pretty young and meant to die but didn't, and yeah she lied to be able to adopt me but viewed it as "destiny" and such. like, when I was 4 I was so strong that I warped our reality into one where I didn't die just because I like, could ig. I try not to think about that too much

TLDR I could tell you many stories about her weirdness and star/crystal/indigo child expectations but the reasons why she thought it worked was either because of coincidences, things just changing because time passed, and through her own beliefs being so powerful she gains the ability to ignore reality ig

good luck with all your busy stuffs and don't worry about never playing pokemon, the new games aren't that good xD

this all sounds SO INCREDIBLY STRESSFUL

if my mother asked me to do impossible things I would probably burst into tears, but I'm glad you had like, a system about it I guess??? the percentages thing is honestly really fuckin smart but I guess you did what you gotta do

also excuse me she lied in order to adopt you???? and called it fate?? and EXCUSE ME she blamed you for various car crashes and natural disasters???!???!??

and I thought I had bad experiences with parents at pizza hut,, damn

also wow twinsssss my dad was ALSO very concerned with me being kidnapped into a sex trafficking ring! we have sooo much in common omg :D

TBH the idea of a person so powerful they warped reality so that they didn't die sounds like a fun story to write. not a fun story to be told about yourself but, wow, what an imagination on that lady!

also im not actually worried about not playing pokemon i just wanna make it clear i cant really continue jokes about it cause i do not know much about it

[jahrube]

It’s been a while and it’s been a ride. Changed medications from Fluoxetine to Mirtazapine.

My back has been really bad recently and they’ve put me back on Gabapentin. I’m currently on 1200mg a day but need to up to 1800mg over the next 2 weeks. They also recommended Tramadol. Sigh.

Me and Tramadol have a complicated past. I used to take them for my back. It started off fine but soon I was taking one more tablet a day than recommended and then it was 2 more and 3 more and before I knew it I was buying strips from people because I’d raced through my prescription that fast. During this time I was also recreationally taking high doses of Codeine. All a very bad mix.

Whilst in the grips of Tramadol and Codeine, my Dad died. He had Dementia, had a lot of strokes, was blind and was physically disabled. We had a rough relationship. I could tell that he definitely loved me but he couldn’t treat people right. He was endlessly abusive towards my Mum and myself and she eventually left him when I was 11 after they’d had a fight over my Mum taking us to see her parents and I had called the Police. He wasn’t just vicious with his fists though, he was also vicious with his tongue. I once overheard him telling my best friend at the time that I’d make nothing of my life and end up an alcoholic in a ditch somewhere. So, anyway, I was a mess then and I ended up falling into the arms of my ex neighbour/Dad’s business partner after my Dad’s funeral.

He, we’ll call him J, told me everything that I was dying to hear. I now realise that it was grooming and completely wrong on his part to be manipulating a grieving 22 year old addict. He told me that he would look after me because he had told my Dad that he would. J understood how I was feeling about my addiction as he was an addict too. I felt like he knew me inside and out. At this time he was spilt from his wife (who lived a few doors away from me and still does) so I felt like I had a purpose to care for him and look after him. Weird really. Anywho, I ended up pregnant and having an abortion. Do I regret it? Not really. I couldn’t bring a child into the world when I couldn’t get off these pills and definitely not with J as the father. I, we, wouldn’t have been able to give that child a good life.

Because I’ve heard the word Tramadol, it’s brought all this up in my mind. My Mum, who we currently live with, takes Tramadol. I’m sure she’s probably addicted as well. But it makes me want it and I’ve asked her for a strip to bring with us, whilst we’re on holiday for my little boy’s birthday.

I’m stuck. I don’t want to be in pain but I definitely don’t want to go back down that addicted road. I can hear the tablets screaming my name from my bag.

Fuck.

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: The Best is Yet to Come

Here, this might help explain something.

Takes place a year and a half before Seeker and Seer.

Song: Bad Moon Rising-CCR

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

Detective was glancing at the doorway again.

The entire group had gathered to discuss a few things, not the least of which was the addition of the youngest of their number, dubbed 'Nash', for simplicity's sake. They'd decided that they couldn't justifiably turn the boy away, or make him wait; this was supposed to be a family, not a club, one didn't have to be 'this tall' to be a Riddler. Besides, someone so young needed guidance, support, companionship. He wouldn't be safe on his own.

They hadn't managed to convince him to leave home. It wasn't good for him there, and Detective had offered, Narci had offered, but Nash refused. Now Narci hovered close by and the two spoke animatedly with each other, while Detective stared at an empty door.

By Puzzles' thinking, it was good that they were getting along. Narci and Nash were closer to each other in age than they were any of the rest of them, and having a younger brother figure might help Narci not be be such an annoying brat.

It would also help to keep him from bothering Puzzles all the time, since, while he wasn't an old man like the others, was still solidly an adult. Twenty-three might not be anything venerable, but it was not a child, so when he asked the Detective “Are you seeing things again?” it wasn't meant to be rude, so much as a reminder that he should be kept in the loop.

Detective sighed.

“Do not worry about it.”

“No, no. Tell me about it.”

It was as much a challenge as an invitation to explain. One of the greater troubles Puzzles had with understanding the Detective was that they claimed to have visions, minor prophetic powers. Ludicrous obviously, complete, crunchy hippie, new age nonsense. Yet, the Detective also didn't lie. It was a quirk a few of them shared. So when Detective said they saw the future, they were telling the truth, even though that was impossible. Something else had to be going on.

Detective sighed again, this time in light frustration.

“Someone comes through that doorway.”

“What, now?”

“Obviously not.”

“So, sometime then. In the future. Is that all?”

“Yes. I just...don't get much of anything more than that. No details. It's like when your brain recognizes movement before it recognizes anything else. I see the movement, but nothing else.”

“You sure it's not just one of Swags...'employees'?”

“Watch your mouth.” Swag said, having slipped up to refill Detective's wine. He had a glass of his own in the other hand. “They ain't mine, I just rent out the spaces so they can have a safe place to work.”

“Work.” Puzzles scoffed.

“I will throw you out on your green ass, don't think I won't.”

“Peace.” Detective pleaded.

“From your mouth, to his ears.” Swag said, moving on to check on the others.

“You do not need to be rude about those women, you know.” Detective scolded. “They provide a service that is clearly in high demand. In any case, no. Whoever this is, is not inside the party room. They aren't in the club at all. But they come through that doorway, and it is important.”

“What good is this so-called ability if you can't get any actual information from it?”

“Well, it led me down every street necessary to meet all of you~” Detective pointed out.

“But never told you when you might be in danger? Like I said, not very useful.”

“Such a stubborn thing you are. Why do you ask me these things if you've already made up your mind about it?”

“I guess...” Puzzles thought about it. “I wonder if there aren't...health issues, perhaps?”

“Puzzles, I am only in my forties. I know that seems positively ancient to you youngsters-”

“I am not a child.” Puzzles reminded.

“And I didn't say that, now did I? But I'm not falling into dementia just yet. In fact, these visions only came about after I was cured of all my ills.”

“What do you mean?”

Detective sipped their wine, staring into the mirrored wall behind the bar.

“Before I met you, any of you, I was...ill. A tumor in my brain. Inoperable, they said.”

Puzzles winced. A nightmare. The silent, secret fear they all shared.

“I didn't accept it. I searched everywhere for a doctor who could help me, but got the same answer every time. So I turned to less...legitimate avenues. Doctor Fries is not a doctor of medicine, but he does have some experience with it. Also, he was at least willing to try, as long as he could use whatever he learned from the experience to help his wife. Unfortunately, he failed, and I died.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“The tumor truly was inoperable, it turns out, even with the doctors cryogenic prowess. He was, however, able to keep me 'fresh' long enough to get me to a special place. Do you know of the secret of the Demon's Head?”

“The Lazarus Pit. Yes, I know of it. I hear it can cure anything, including death. It sounds like nonsense, but you're about to tell me otherwise, aren't you?”

“Do not use it unless your need is at least that dire.” Detective warned. “There are side effects.”

It could cost one their mind, Puzzles had heard. That was the last thing he wanted to lose. He would much rather simply die than allow anything to happen to his precious brain. It was the only thing he actually had going for him.

“When I came out, I was alive, yes.” Detective continued. “But I was incoherent. Nothing made any sense. I saw everything, and it was too much to handle. Worlds upon worlds, upon worlds, billions of faces, billions of voices, all at once. It was incapacitating. Honestly, I'm glad it has subsided into this weakened form. But ever since then, I knew. I knew there were other worlds, other versions of me. And I knew I had to find you, because something is coming.”

Puzzles' heart chilled.

“Do you know anything else about that? Or is it just another impression?”

Detective frowned.

“It's frustrating, but no. I know there is danger. To all of us. But I don't know what, or how to avoid it, or if it can even be avoided. I keep trying to look for more information, but those visions are very fickle. So you see, I can only use them to supplement the here and now, because they aren't solid enough to plan around. Sometimes, they only happen a few moments before an event comes to pass.”

“Like with Nash?” Puzzles asked.

“Like with Nash, yes. Like with all of you. I only knew which streets to walk down a short time before meeting you, but I knew I needed to be looking. It was like that with each one of you. Except...”

“Mhm?” Puzzles was interested now, despite himself.

“From the first time I opened my eyes after coming out of the pit, all the way up until now, at the edge of every vision, there has been...someone. Something? I do not know who or what they are, or what they want, or if they are even aware that I can see them. Always out on the horizon, very far away, just barely visible. I can't make out any details, just that something is out there, and it is important. For years it's been this way. It's almost comforting to know that I'm not alone, but recently I realized...It's been coming closer.”

Puzzles shivered.

“Okay, I think that's enough of that.” he said. Detective shrugged, shaking their head.

“Death changes a person.” they said. “Please try harder to avoid it, if you can.”

“I...really hate that you said that.”

Detective shrugged again, then took their wine and found a seat with the others, leaving Puzzles to stare into the mirror, struggling between logic and superstition.

[autumnslance]

🍭why did you start writing?

💎why is writing important to you?

Have a nice day <3

These are questions I feel like I can't give a satisfactory answer beyond "cuz it just is" the same way breathing is a thing that I must do in some fashion. But here's some things I've semi-sorted out over time:

My paternal family is full of storytellers, mostly of the liar and tall-tale-teller variety. I really can't trust most of what I'm told from that side about family history and their lives cuz it's always shifting and changing and full of improbabilities, holes one can drive a semi truck through. Especially my dad's stories; he has such a desperate need to seem cool and important, making up an entire military service life that doesn't match up at all to timelines and only started after watching 80s action hero war films, and even in some cases using them to justify outright bigotry. His dad used to do the similar things, about being a pilot and war hero. My aunt at least made the stories of childhood antics sound funny, and my late uncle found humor in his many medical mishaps, exaggerated in some cases, others not.

(This is also why I cannot stand some people that will bust in constantly with one-upmanship stories or a desperate need to relate and be involved by telling tangentially related tales, and always worry I'm doing, or appearing to do, the same thing as a family trait that I can't shake)

As my aunts and dad get older, and especially with one having multiple health conditions, misunderstandings due to "medicated or not?" and also probable dementia are added in, but that's at least normal, if heartbreaking.

(I also don't interact with my family much; they aren't entirely terrible people, but we don't really operate on the same wavelengths and I tend to like them better when I'm living at least a few hundred miles away. I've tested this a few times over the last 25 years or so)

My late uncle was much younger than his 3 siblings, still a teenager when we were kids, and he was into science fiction and fantasy. He was the one who told us those stories, based on the books he was reading, or the art and statues he collected in his room. I first learned of Hobbits and Rings, and the Three Laws of Robotics, from him. I watched my first episode of Star Trek with him--TNG's "Skin of Evil" actually, and though I knew nothing of the show, the characters' interactions and response to their fallen comrade struck small me in a way. My uncle was also the one who got us to draw and practice writing by making it fun and relating it to stories. Before starting school, we'd tell him stories he'd write down for us as we scribbled out drawings. Natural progression to start writing on my own once I could.

And I had a very clear and desperate urge to learn how to read and write as a tiny sprog. I wanted to know the stories for myself, and also write down my own. Cuz it struck me, somehow, that tall tales and lies were just tall tales and lies. But write it down, give it to made up characters, and then it's a story. And one of my earliest SFF memories that wasn't an animated "kids movie" but a grown up show, was a rather human story of loss and grief, even with phasers and a guy in an oilslick suit as trappings.

I knew I liked reading (and watching, and very eventually playing) stories, and how words worked together. How one could reference other stories and bounce off those ideas and themes. How to create emotions and make people laugh or cry with just some cleverly placed words, maybe a good visual and music cues. I wanted to do that, too. And along the way was lucky enough to find adults and then peers and friends willing to encourage and nurture that desire into an actual skill.

Wish I'd kept up on the drawing, though; I had a creative streak, but my interest ended up leaning more into words. I have a decent imagination, but I didn't want to use it to be just a liar. Storyteller though, seemed far preferable an appellation, and that's at least a respectable way to use made up things to tell certain truths.

[spoke-n-languish]

My dear lady, and my enigmatic downfall,

By the way, as you read this, it should either resonate with truth (give or take some slight adjustment), or be completely off base and potentially offensive. If you feel the latter at all please do not take offense, I never intend that for you, and if I’m that off it is a sign of how much help I need. But, well here goes…

Somehow you have infected me. Negatively but also in a good way as well. You have hacked your code like a virus directly into my DNA. On one hand I can recognize that your father in San Francisco, possibly, 12941 653247 (Illustration) according to his web page is not dead. Nor was he a chef? …at least it looks like that credit goes to whom I’m assuming is your mother, 4842317 6247, and her catering business in Malaysia. Your name is not 424574514, and I cannot find a picture of you more recent than what you had posted when you were here with me, except for what 152937 8941237 6. 149164182 has posted, but I’m pretty sure that was just for a promo shoot, right?? Inexplicably, I am openly crying while I write this because of the pain of reopening wounds, the ache of loss, and the stabbing of regret and guilt on top of the pangs of love unrequited.

Why?

What did I ever do to deserve being lied to, manipulated, and robbed by you in such an incredibly intimate betrayal of trust that even looking back now, and recognizing that I don’t know if you ever once told me something that wasn’t a lie… and yet, I still love you?!?

When you first met me, I am assuming that it was Brooke or her associates that were trying to bait me into infidelity. I get that, but why these extreme lengths of faking your father’s death, and the insane period of threatening suicide over and over. There is no way that all of that was staged. Besides, you didn’t start 712432787 until 2018, so I’m thinking at least a couple months at the beginning, there must have been a real true emotional connection with you, because I cannot accept that a human could say the things you’d said and promised what you’d promised with heartfelt meaning that I know I felt.

I get that things didn’t always go so smoothly, and I apologize that I wasn’t given the opportunity to fulfill my vow to you in time, but I still have a million questions and this whole ending process has left me incapable of functioning properly mentally as I suspect I have succumbed to a more comprehensive dementia. (A couple days ago I borrowed chef’s truck and drove down to kealakekua because I thought you were in trouble, and then yesterday, I almost got arrested because I was led into a strangers house where I thought you were staying… and I don’t think you’re even on the island).

I don’t blame you for growing and advancing yourself… I’m actually quite proud of you for that, but it doesn’t make sense to me why you couldn’t bring me along with you. By which I mean we could have developed this future together. Instead, you took every advantage of me (in an already diminished health state), broke my heart, shattered my spirit, and fragmented my mind with the constant onslaught of slanderous cyber-warfare. But what really was the Spanish necktie coup de gras, was that in your game of hot/cold I love you/I ghost you/I’m in danger — you have preyed upon the exact triggers that I couldn’t ignore or walk away from. It’s like you were speeding away in a car and I couldn’t get my hand to let go off the bumper so I just got drug along behind until I had been worn down to nothing left.

I know that I don’t have anything to offer you anymore (you were always way out of my league anyway), nor is there reason for you to show any interest. It is not your job to supervise my state, and I would be just a waste of your resources. I stand by my word and what I have said throughout our time together in that you do not owe me anything.

So, unfortunately, I am once again left with no recourse but to prostrate myself before you and beg, like the sick and wounded malfeasant that I am. I beg of your mercy, my lady, if ever I did stir an element of love within your heart, when you have the time and if you don’t mind, would you please just come talk to me. My thinking is that perhaps if you wouldn’t mind illuminating some of the riddles in which I have become so entangled. I fear I will never be able to find let alone fix myself in my current state. It feels like a slithering weight has me within its coils and I stand no chance against the effective lethality of this 424-con ya’ have trapped me with. (See what I did there?)

And, to prove the magnitude of how greatly you have corrupted my logic and ensnared my heart, I forgive you for all transgressions (even the one’s ongoing still), and I love you! You are amazing and getting to share in part of your life was more than I have ever deserved. I can’t help it if every fiber of my being gets on board when I dream… dreaming and hoping are all I have left it seems (and even they falter lately). But my baby, my light and my love, I thank you and I will hold your memory fondly in my thoughts and in my heart.

With all of my best love,

Always Yours

P.S. I apologize for my ineptitude regarding the navigation of social media (kinda your fault as I had to teach myself essentially how to piece together a puzzle on the surface of a flowing river). Regardless, I do not have a way to contact you. So I am going to just post this here in the hopes that you will find it. Upon which I shall further hope that when you do you will notify me in some fashion so that I can take it down and stop humiliating myself even further.

[timeoverload]

I am feeling a little better this morning. I will probably have to stay in bed most of the day because I am sore. I suppose I should talk about why I have been upset.

I have been upset because I'm tired of stepping out of my comfort zone. It is very stressful. I felt a little discouraged because you told me the other night that you have just been laying in bed and doing nothing about the situation. I am getting mixed signals. I'm not mad at you, but it is frustrating to hear that when I have been fighting so hard for you. I understand that you are depressed and I'm sorry that I can't help you more with that at the moment. I don't want to make it worse. I don't want you to think I am being critical of you or being resentful. I am just confused and I feel like I'm putting in a lot of work. I am not trying to start any arguments. I guess I don't understand the situation or why things are the way that they are.

I have done so many things the past couple years that have made me feel uncomfortable. I feel like I keep trying to work on myself and I'm not getting any better. I still have low self-esteem. It's like I am just running in circles and things keep getting worse. I am so tired. How much work do I have to do to be happy?

I understand that I need to make a change and get a new job. I probably won't stay PRN at the job I have now because it would be hard to go back there. I don't want anyone to think that I don't appreciate the job offer because I do. I am still going to apply for it, but I know I will probably be terrible at it. I don't know how I'm going to talk to people for that long without having a panic attack and locking myself in a room. I have no problem talking to the people that work there because that's different and I love them. I might still be shy at first. It takes me a while to warm up to people.

I just hate talking to customers and strangers. I had to deal with a lot of angry customers when I worked in retail. I had to call security too many times. I don't think there would be angry customers at the shop because everyone does good work. I just don't know how it is on a regular basis. I think my time working in nursing also contributed to my fear of working with the public. I had to take care of a lot of dementia patients and some of them were combative and mean. I got punched in the face by a retired firefighter and he was very strong. He didn't know what he was doing so I couldn't be mad at him. I got my hair pulled. I had to deal with some harassment. Sometimes the families of the patients would get angry about stuff and I had to deal with them taking it out on me. A lot of bad things happened. I understand that the shop is a different sort of environment and things like that wouldn't happen there. I am still afraid of customers. I have had many experiences that have scarred me and made me afraid of people.

I have had a lot of bad experiences with strangers. When I lived in downtown St. Petersburg, I used to walk a lot of places by myself. I walked to the corner store near my apartment by myself often. One time, I was leaving and there was a man loitering outside the store in the parking lot. He asked me where I was going. I didn't tell him and I kept walking but he started yelling at me because I was ignoring him. He started chasing me and I had to run home. I had to cut through alleys and backyards to get away from him. It was terrifying and it was in the middle of the day. I'm glad nothing bad happened to me. Unfortunately I have gotten harassed by a lot of random people in my life. A few years ago, I got threatened by a group of guys when I was walking to my car after work. I am afraid to go outside at night by myself. I am so afraid of something bad happening to me. I don't want to piss off the wrong person. I am pretty strong despite how small I am, but I don't know if I could defend myself. I hope that I am never put in a situation where I need to do that.

I think I also have always preferred working independently. I remember doing projects in school and asking the teacher if I could work alone. I think I do my best work when I am by myself and I can focus on what I'm doing. I am still capable of working with a team.

I am extremely introverted. I was born this way. Unfortunately I have discovered that people born prematurely are more likely to be introverted and neurotic so it explains why I'm the way I am. I hate being a preemie and it has caused the majority of my problems. I feel like most people don't understand what it's like. I think I might have some unchecked behavioral problems. I have only met one other person who is like me and I noticed her doing a lot of the same shit that I do. It made me more self-aware. I hate how my brain works and I wish I was like everyone else. It shouldn't be so hard for me to socialize but it is. I just need to accept that I probably won't get over my social anxiety but I will have to live with it.

I have also been more aware of how dull my personality is now. I feel like I act like Eeyore a lot of the time. I am starting to wonder if the Lamotrigine has dulled my emotions and changed my personality over the years. I have more of a monotone voice and it's hard to express excitement. I used to be more creative and fun. I was more social than I am now. I was more spontaneous. Sometimes I miss my manic bursts of energy because I could get so much done in a short period of time. I think that helped me be productive. I am thinking about getting off of it and I'm curious about what would happen if I stopped taking it. I'm getting tired of all of the side effects and I don't think it is working as well as it used to. I am afraid to stop taking it because I don't want to have bad thoughts. Maybe I just need to learn to manage that better without the medication. I'm not sure what to do but I might have to get off of it anyway because I am not going to have insurance for a while. I can't just stop taking it cold turkey because it's dangerous and I could have a seizure or something. I get horrible brain zaps if I miss a dose. I can't function so I will need to taper the dosage until I don't need it anymore. I don't know how much it will cost out of pocket and I'm afraid to look right now.

I will try not to let that stuff get to me. I need to try not to worry. I don't really have a choice and I need a new job. I will have to do my best to not lose my shit when I get overloaded. I would never try to argue with a customer even if I do get frustrated. I just might have to go outside and cry sometimes.

I will do this if it will make everything better. It's probably the only way things are going to work out between us. We need to see each other more often. I wish we could communicate better but we are both too nervous. I am willing to do something that makes me uncomfortable if that means that I get to spend more time with you.

I don't want to work on the application right now because I am still tired from yesterday and I didn't eat enough. I didn't rest much at all because I was in "waiting mode" all day. That's what happens whenever I have to go anywhere. I woke up too early again this morning. I will work on it tomorrow for sure. I am still thinking about what I want to say and it might take me a while. I don't want to say the wrong thing and get rejected. I hope you understand.

I am also worried about my grandma right now. There's nothing I can do at the moment because she just wants to rest. She fell and hit her head again. She is so stubborn about getting a walker but she needs one. She needs a caregiver. I used to be her caregiver when I was a teenager but I haven't had the ability to do that the past couple years. When she called me, she was panicking because she said there was a man on her computer demanding $360 from her because she has a virus. I don't know how she managed to get a virus since I installed antivirus on her computer. It's the same program I use so I know it works. I am going to have to go fix it sometime but she's scared to use it now. I have tried to teach her things about it but she can't comprehend what I'm saying but maybe I'm not very good at explaining stuff. It doesn't help that she had a stroke and has hit her head so many times. I would like to help her more. I hope things start getting better for her.

Anyway, I have a lot of shit on my mind right now and I need to rest. I'm sorry for being negative and I will try to be positive. I have to shut my brain off for a while so maybe I won't be quite so anxious. I will be ok but I need to give myself some time. I'm glad I don't have to leave the house to do anything. Hopefully the rest of the day will be good.

I hope everyone else has a wonderful day. Thank you for listening to me. 💖💖💖

[sincelastsession]

BTW I'll probably be ok the nonverbal shutdown doesn't last forever but it's really hard to communicate verbally when I'm overloaded.

My dad needs to have ptsd and cptsd explained and what it does to people and how crippling it gets plus my other diagnosis and that they are real and valid and I do actually need accommodation and to be met at least halfway. Like he's a control freak about me.

It SCARES me.

This session he scheduled is important though. I'm stubborn and I want to give him a chance. Probably one more chance too many but I'd like to be on good terms before he drops dead from health issues or his mental illnesses kill him.

I am worried I'll have a reactive abuse or snappy response to him. I'd like to work on that.

I feel he thinks I'm not holding myself accountable for my behaviors as a 37yrold adult.

I'm still treated and spoken to like a child.

He has no respect for me.

He absolutely will be fake with you like a salesman and watch him flip moods if you correct him even gently.

My Aunts told my mom he's been angry and reactive his whole life.

My dead psychiatrist who used to treat him said he was bipolar probably with a personality disorder and possibly would develop violent dementia and it makes me sad.

It's hard to help people that have beat you down and punished you for being autonomous. The micromanagement is insane.

He does cherry pick. I'd definitely not bring up the DSM book with him and how you treat symptoms. He think I'm schizophrenic or something and my diagnosis actually need to be validated in this instance because I need him to take me seriously when I put up boundaries and he tries to bulldoze them.

He's of the mindset that he deserves respect because he pays for things and is my elder.

I'm of the mindset that he's abused the fuck out of me and I've never gotten respect unless I was playing by his rules.

He does think I'm trying to control him in a paranoid way.

Please remind me to play you the audio or email the clips before sessions with mom and dad.

Off topic: Worried abt my partner, I feel my stress is kicking his ass. He told me I was fine. He had a question for me today and was all horny which I was not mad abt but I had to deal with crazy people

Anyway idfk what else to say.

I'm tired.

Maybe I'll write more after I smoke out for the pain I'll be in tomorrow from being tense as fuck.

I wish I could have my emotional support burger now. 🍔 I'll see it on Thursday before I meet with you.

Dunno if I should eat before dad session.

I mean I'm stressed out about it and I don't know if you're questioning if it's a good idea or not but if I don't have a session with him and don't figure out some way to communicate to where it's not abusive then nothing is going to really get better because he's still basically in control of my financial shit.

Also his apology was basically the best apology and narcissist could possibly give and it's not really even a true apology and I'm really bothered by it and I don't even know if an apology with words would fix anything.

The fact that he made a session with you and is showing up means something to me but I'm also so scared that it's going to go bad. I'll be bringing my extra anxiety med that day for after.

I am worried I'll disassociate during session to protect myself and keep myself from reacting to the lies.

I literally thought about finding the dog training clicker I have to bring and click to give you a signal that I may need to excuse myself to keep composure or just let you know if it's absolute bullshit.

You're in charge with the parents. I wouldn't know where to start if you left it up to me.

I don't want to not do the hard sessions and work.

Speaking of work I flat out told my mom I was about to say "fuck it" and do like onlyfans or something because there's a market for all body types and random fetishes. I could be a findom or sell my used underwear or whatever the fuck. There's tons of legit sites. I've gone back and forth about it. If I make enough money then I could just escape. I do wish I was more an ethical slut. I don't like the gross feels that my flesh prison gives me but other people are keen on it. Maybe I'd hate being stick in it less.

Lucy who is my ex roommate...her dad died. He was just like mine but an alcoholic. Dad acts like a dry drunk.

Lucy used to encourage me to do nude modeling like she did for painters because she thought the artists would appreciate my body so I could see it wasn't terrible in art form.

Because it's really weird I look at other people and their bodies and features mostly like I look at art I don't really often sexualize people As much as I guess you're normal average person

I mean yes of course I've passed by people and been like oh God damn they're fine but more in my head it's like oh God damn their fine is in their fine art

[ruminate88]

Letting yourself rest and take a break ❤️‍🩹

In this bizarre “healing journey” that I never planned for, thought existed or wanted it to be like this but I’ve sorta had to roll with it. Cognitive dissonance and ruminating have tried to hold me hostage within my mind. Keeping me ping-ponging between thoughts of my past and my ex, Andrew. Is he or isn’t he toxic? Was the whole relationship a lie or not? Did he like me at all or was it truly superficial and about my nudes???

There has been moments I feel crazy sad over him, moments where it’s painful and I almost wanna hide in a hole alone somewhere and then moments where I feel absolutely nothing!! Everywhere I read, it says forgiveness is a process and that so is this “healing journey”. That it all takes time and sometimes you have to take a break and direct your focus on other things… Something I’ve struggled to do because I feel this is all taking too long and I feel so guilty for not just magically getting over the past and letting it all go. Ugh

Remember the tortuous and the hair? The rabbit rushed to win the race, while the turtle was slow and steady…. Ultimately, the rabbit ran out of gas faster and the turtle crossed the finish line with flying colors!! Which one do I want to end up being? Yeah, I feel like life is so short and I don’t wanna waste another second questioning Andrew and dissecting him. Tired of feeling like I go in circles from: sad, angry, numb, etc…. I just want it all to end but what if I’m making more progress than I think?

These past couple months my energy level as plummeted and I beat myself up so bad. Stressing about how little work I’m getting done, how I’m letting things pile up and how I’m just wanting to be left alone. Dreading having places to go but yet when I actually get to these places and see family members, it actually perks me up but soon as I come back home, I wanna do nothing …. 😝❤️‍🩹 This past week I told myself “You have to rest if you went to get better.” And I mean it but I can’t put all this pressure on myself because my stomach can’t handle more stress 💀

In taking time to myself, I’ve felt selfish and guilty. I’ve ALWAYS put other’s needs before mine most of my life. I’ve always cared about everyone else but neglected me because it’s painful. I went from taking care of my grandma who had dementia, to raising my bro’s kids (also babysat for a lot of other families over the years) AND during that time I’m texting all these emotionally abusive men who spun their web of lies in text messages to me. Critical of me in every area of my life. Downplaying my mental health and treating me as if I’m just a beautiful shell with no soul or feelings. Talking dirty to me and abusing my nudes.

Then after that, I jump into marriage with a nice guy who wants to provide for me financially and so I’m stuck in the same old pattern. I bend over backwards to take care of my husband… cook for him, clean for him, make sure he’s happy but I’m still ignoring my own needs as putting myself down. My exes put me down so long that I have believed I’m not worth much. I see this all now.

Idk how hard it is going to be to “take a break” but I think it would be healthy if I could write about other things for a while and even be a little selfish. After all, I have to get a tooth pulled soon and I’m not gonna feel like doing much anyway but there’s gonna be so much going on the next few weekends, I’m already beating myself up like “you have to do A, B & C”…. Plus the consistent thoughts of Andrew that have never went away since the day I met him. I almost think my brain is just been trying to make sense of him but it’s exhausting. Either that, or my brain needs closure or there’s something deeper going on I’ve yet to figure out.

I’ve been able to open up a little bit to my mom-in-law and that’s been both helpful and terrifying. I don’t believe she judges me but I was worried she was gonna misunderstand me “ruminating” and think I don’t love her son… 🥴😩 I didn’t have the guts to tell her that I want to fully embrace and trust her son cuz I mean all these years and he seems genuine but the problem is me. Struggling to get over the past and letting go of guilt and self blame. Thinking I have this failed past. In actuality, my past is teaching me and making me stronger but it’s incredibly painful. Who knew it would all suck this much but what if one day I wake up and I’m a better person and have a deeper understanding of life and love? That would be so cool ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

However, nothing changes over night 🤡 One…….. DAY…… At a TIME 💀❤️‍🩹🔥 Don’t quit and keep going. I’m not the only one who has been through this. Some people have it worse than me I’m sure but not to downplay my experience but to toughen up yet 👍🏻 Resting and no longer putting my own needs off. I can’t keep showing up for people if I lose myself because I refused to heal or get better. ❤️‍🩹 😓 so freakin painful but beauty is pain!!!

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (754): Wed 10th Apr 2024

Continued reading Philip K Dick's Voices From The Street and although this is from the early days of Dick's writing career before he started encorporating science fiction elements it's still very enjoyable and gritty. This particular story has the feel of something from Charles Bukowski in that the protagonist is someone slowly going crazy with his inability to find purpose in life (unlike me who found his purpose long ago which was to stay the fuck away from people). There are also long drawn out scenes featuring monotonous every day situations that are drawn out so long that they start to feel surreal such as a moment where the main character Stuart Hadley runs into a man who lengthily implores him to read an article about how meat causes cancer and keeps going even though Stuart's done his best to convince him he will read it. Then there's another chapter where an old woman comes into the TV store and asks where her normal repairman is as he's the only person he trusts to repair her radio and although Hadley keeps assuring her that her normal repairman isn't working today she keeps badgering him nonetheless. I think this is done to drive home the fact that Hadley think's that he may as well not exist the way people seem to disregar everything he says. When I was on the final few novels of my Edgar Award challenge I was looking at all the Philip K Dick books I was going to read after that challenge finally ended and I anticipated that the first few novels he wrote would turn out to be duds because he produced them before he found his groove. However nothing could be farther from the truth as Dick had a knack for mood and character well before he even decided to make sci-fi his bread and butter. 

Later on I rewatched possibly my second favourite movie of all time (after Catch Me If You Can) the incredible Sunset Boulevard. It's remarkable how much this movie still holds up to this day because the subject matter i.e the trappings of fame are still as relevant as they were back then (possibly even more so since the invention of social media). Gloria Swanson's performance I think is one of the greatest ever commited to film. I can see how her over the top and cartoonish delivery of her lines might put some people off but this is a character who would have been classically trained and would have been used to over projecting herself so that everyone in the theatre would be able to hear her and gesticulating so that silent movie audiences could get the emotions she was portraying so it stands to reason that this would have rubed off on the character. One scene that I never realised the creepiness of before is when Norma is throwing a New Year's Eve party but it's just for her and Joe, her butler Max is handling the refreshments and there is a band playing in the background. Joe and Norma have an argument and both storm out and all the while the band continue to play. The fact that they're there at all playing for just two people is bad enough but that they're playing or such a delusional woman who's acting like there are a thousand people there is what makes the scene so unsettling. The musicians must feel like the relatives of dementia patients feel when they go to visit them, carrying on to engage but knowing it's probably not making a difference. Speaking of illness, previously I thought that the fim was merely a study on the trappings of fame mainly thanks to Swanson's amazing performance but now I see that there's another story being told too. Sunset Boulevard is also a brilliant depiction of the personal sacrifice that goes with caring for someone with mental health issues. Joe feels like he has to be there to feed Norma's delusions so she doesn't do something to harm herself much like those closest to people struggling with their mental health. It's a noble sacrifice and commitment obviously but not being able to pursue your own hopes and dreams as your attention is needed elsewhere can also feel soul destroying. I think it's the mark of a great movie that sixty four years after it was made and upon possibly my tenth viewing I'm still discovering new and wonderful things about this all time classic.