#and gets very very very stressed out by cleaning stuff so our houses have always been Insanely messy. not that im like blaming my mom ik

[nomaishuttle]

this is not just me complaining bc its one of my chores but i truly donot think the kitchen needs 2 be mopped twice aweek

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Broken Headsets PT 2

-Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst.

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

**

“Baby I’m so sorry, please open up the door.” Chan’s voice echoes through the door and into the bathroom.

My knees against my chest as I was calming down from a panic attack. The sleeves on my sweater now dump from all the tears it was sucking up.

“G-go away” I cry louder. My body shaking and my salty tears freely running down my hot face.

“I don’t…I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

“Babe I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean to snap like that. Just let me talk to you. Let me hold you. I’m worried. Your going to have another panic attack”

“BangChan leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.” I throw whatever was in my reach at the wooden door. Making him jump on the other side of the door. Now HE couldn’t hold back his tears. He wanted to be able to sort it out because he genuinely didn’t mean to snap Or cause anyone pain.

“Okay I’ll give you some time my love, please don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry.” His voice now low and quiet. I had no response because I was so angry and so hurt by him.

I wasn’t being dramatic right?

The sound of his footsteps disappear down the hall making me quickly but softly wipe my tears away and get up to wash my face. The cold water making my body shiver. I stare at myself. Hair up in a bun, eyes red and eye bags deep from all the lack of sleep. A fucking mess.

The front door slamming was what made me jump getting me out of the trance I was in. Had he left? I pick up the container that was on the ground due to the fact I threw it and open the bathroom door.

I find Berry sat in-front of it as if waiting for me. I give her a soft smile and pick her up.

Walking through the house looking for any sign of Chan but there was none.

I glance at the clock and it read 12:45. Anger rises up my chest once again because how dare he leave the house at this hour knowing how much anxiety I have when his out late? Such a selfish bastard!

Get home.

I send him a text and switch off my phone to look around. A mess the house was.

“Shall we clean up Berry?” I look at the dog in my hands who didn’t even seem to be bothered by anything. “I swear I talk to you more than I talk to Chan” a chuckle leaves my lips when she starts licking my face.

“Now come on let’s get started.” I place her down and pick up things and put them away. My body needing the distraction but my mind and thoughts running at a speed of lightning.

Emotions running through “my mind and soul”. Cringe lol.

2:30 am.

The sound of the clock ticking was starting to irritate me and craw under my skin.

Worry slowly crawling up my chest. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he okay? Where could he be?

I hated myself for putting my self through this because after the little stunt he pulled causing me to sit in the bathroom crying my heart out for 2 hours begging for someone to come save me. I was still sat in our living at 2:30 am waiting and wondering where he had gone too.

Did he leave me? Surely he hadn’t cause all his stuff was still here.

My feet slowly taps the floor, something I do when I’m nervous. I tag on my sweater which is now stretched out due to the constant pulling. The material laying between my fingers feeling very satisfying.

“Why do you have to do this to me Chan?” I say softly, talking to myself.

The house was quiet once again like I’m used too.

The lights were off except for his studio room led lights that were on and passing through the glass window.

Berry was now sat on my lap cuddling me because I knew she sensed the stress my body was going through. She always just knew and she always tried to cuddle of just play around whenever Chan or I where going through something.

A sigh leaves my lips. I was tired. I needed sleep but I needed to know if he was safe.

I check my phone to see if he had responded but nothing came through and when I was about to set down the phone it stars to buzz making me jolt up. Han’s name pops up with a picture of me and him when we were at an adventure park in Japan.

I quickly pick up the phone hoping that somehow Chan was with him and they were doing some project.

“Hello?” My voice rough but still soft from all the crying.

“Hey baby.” He says softly from the other end of the phone.

“Hey..”

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, I could hear the nervous tone in his voice.

“Mhm” a hum in response.

“Channie Hyung is with us in the dorms okay? He showed up here really upset so we told him to just stay over until everything is calm,”

I feel my heart break into pieces. Was he really that upset that he didn’t want to stay in the same home as me? He knew how I hated when he didn’t sleep at home.

“Oh, okay that’s alright. Thank you for letting me know,” I tell him. A weigh being lifted off my shoulder because now that I knew he was safe I could sleep or so I thought.

After hanging up the phone. I slowly put Berry aside and cleanup the cold plate that’s till say on the table and decide to finish up the dishes.

The scent of soap filling my nostrils and a warm liquid running down my face. Tears.

Who would have thought that I would be here at the age of 25 doing dishes at 2 am while crying.

My vision was blurry and my legs were weak. My heart beating fast as I could hear it in my ears.

My face was hot and my body trembled from the heart aching sobs that left it.

I couldn’t be under this much stress.

It wasn’t good for the baby.

**

Pt 1 ⬇️

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying tomy dad he doesn't knows how to use the damn washing machine?

🎣 So I can find it later

Me (transmasc, 25) live with my parents. This is something they suggested me after I had a breakup with someone abusive, before someone jumps at my neck for living with them, immediately voting that I am the asshole. No they don't respect either my name or my pronouns, that's how bad the relationship was. I also pay a fixed amount per month that's about half of my salary+do more complex house chores. This was a while ago when mom had just given birth.

My dad is pretty big at fishing, and gets his fishing clothes pretty dirty. Fishy smell, dirt, grass, dirty water, you know the drill. Fishes a shitton of fishes and sell it for some extra money. I think it's important to mention his salary isn't bad, it's actually about 7 times the minimum wage here, he just spends in a lot of stuff he doesn't needs like getting a lot of toys for the younger sibling, a lot of fishing material he doesn't uses, paying for bills he made back when he exchanged our house for a farm and then got absolutely ridden in debt from farm expenses because he thought everything would be perfect like in those farm movies. And then had to exchange the farm again in a worse house and still pay back some money, getting pets he can't pay for the expenses like about 15-20 native birds (that are illegal btw) and canaries that cost some real money because they eat specialized food and fresh fruit+medicine. I think it's also important to mention that when I was younger my mom and him fought at least one time per month about his fishing habits that were like, leave on Friday and coke back either sunday night or monday morning. Now they're much more tamer usually capping off at one day, but still are frequent, like at least one time per week.

Now to the real deal: mom always washes his clothes, but in this specific time I was doing laundry because she just was cut open with a C-section to have the twins because of an emergency with the babies .Twins weren't home yet but it was not like she could do anything, so I was doing laundry, organizing my siblings chores (15F, 13M, 4F), taking care of the younger one, unfortunately overwhelmed from being the mom. And dad just leaves to fishing every weekend like it's no biggie and leaves their children to just fend for themselves I guess if I wasn't here. So I am making food, making chores and all of that, real mama chores including dealing with the very moody 4yo that isn't happy dad isn't home and mom can't get out of the bed and cried from about anything that mildly inconveniences her.

Then he comes home from fishing and tuck his dirty clothes god knows where, and one week later finds it again and starts bitching about how no one washed his fishing outfit and I, very tired, very overwhelmed and very stressed, say to him "why, don't you know how to use the damn washing machine?" And he gets like, really offended and says he won't even answer me do he won't offend me, and in my tired state I just answer that all he needs to do is to throw it there with soap and turn it on, he could do that and he gets more mad and storms off to fish (again yes, leaving my mom with basically a recovering surgery with the kids.)

Another detail is that a year before he did the same thing but mom had left for some christian stuff for two weeks, and when I asked him if he could load the washing machine so I could finish fixing lunch, he told me he didn't know how to use it and I taught him. He's 45. It's one of those washing machines with literally everything written on them on how to use.

I also should clarify that he's not mentally disabled or physically disabled, if the fishing trips weren't enough clue for his overall wellness. Mom acted as I should bend to his will and just washes the clothes because it's not worth fighting. My 15yo sister is with me because he makes her clean the sink he uses to clean the fishes every time he fishes. Mom is mad at both of us because we're tearing this family apart and we should just accept dad as he is and do what he says.

Tldr: AITA for asking my dad if he doesn't knows how to do the laundry even after I taught him to do so?

What are these acronyms?

[boylikeanangel]

can you please share a bit more of your thoughts on the spoilers? i haven't seen them anywhere and it would be nice to know them coming from you

hiii tumblr mobile does not give timestamps for asks so idk if this is in regard to the spoilers from the interviews or the screenings but all my thoughts are kinda connected to both so SPOILER WARNING FOR THE FIRST TWO EPISODES OF SEASON 2 UNDER THE CUT LALALALA

I don't even know where to start like. I have been in a state of shock all day because literally everything my friends and I speculated about is real. literally all of it. all of our wildest theories about aziraphale and crowley's first meeting were confirmed by the fans who saw the screening. I have never won this fucking hard and ive won AT GOOD OMENS OF ALL THINGS. 2022 me would be laughing. june 2023 me would be laughing. two days ago me would be LAUGHING. I genuinely think this may be one of the best seasons of tv ever guys

like. do you understand. how much this changes. how our understanding of crowley and aziraphale's dynamic throughout time has been totally flipped on its head. aziraphale approached crowley first. crowley was the one who sheltered aziraphale with his wing. so eden was aziraphale returning the favour. DO YOU UNDERSTAND. AZIRAPHALE FELL FIRST. HE DIDNT TAKE SIX THOUSAND YEARS TO CATCH UP. HE HASN'T BEEN CLUELESS THIS ENTIRE TIME. they've literally been connected this entire time, right from before sides or the concept of evil or hatred or enemies were even invented. of course they'd never buy into the whole "hereditary enemies" thing. AZIRAPHALE KNOWS HIM. HE KNOWS CROWLEY. HE'S ALWAYS KNOWN HIM.

and it doesn't even feel like a retcon. it doesn't feel like we need to ignore a bunch of stuff from season 1 to accept or enjoy the added content this season. it's literally just. more shit to help quantify the depth of their love for each other. their connection over countless millennia. I mean if you go back to the very first scene in season 1, aziraphale literally does a double take when crowley appears next to him. that's him realising who it is. he fucking recognised crowley and freaked out for a second. that's why he didn't hear what crowley said!!! he was processing!!!! AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOW MUCH MORE SHIT FROM SEASON 1 HURTS NOW. AZIRAPHALE PLEADING WITH CROWLEY BECAUSE HE WAS AN ANGEL, ONCE. CROWLEY WANTING TO TAKE AZIRAPHALE AND RUN AWAY TO LIVE IN A GALAXY THEY HELPED BUILD TOGETHER. AZIRAPHALE ALWAYS TELLING CROWLEY NOT TO QUESTION GOD AND BEING SO AFRAID TO DO THE SAME BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT'S EXACTLY WHY CROWLEY FELL IN THE FIRST PLACE. it's not retconning its just making everything worse!!! azcrow is canon and everything is worse now!!!!!!

the biblical minisode. well. I cannot think about that without having to pace around my house like a person going into labour. I literally stress cleaned my entire house earlier to distract myself from thinking about it. crowley has always always ALWAYS protected aziraphale. always. literally the only reason aziraphale has never killed anything is because crowley has protected him from ever having to do that. crowley's dedication to preserving aziraphale's goodness and allowing him to be his own definition of angelic/holy is the greatest act of service he could bestow upon him and it makes me SICK because him pushing aziraphale to kill adam in 1x06 after all that shows just how desperate he was. both of them realising and understanding at the exact same time that the only person in the universe who really understands them or knows what they're going through is the other, the only person they can rely upon is the other, its just. we've been so wrong. about aziraphale. about the extent to which he knows how important crowley is to him. he's always known. he's just been so afraid. him being prepared to fall to keep doing what he believes is right is so fucking heartbreaking and weve done him such a disservice all these years for calling him naive and mocking him for being slow on the uptake. HE'S ALWAYS KNOWN. HE JUST COULDN'T DO ANYTHING WITH THAT KNOWLEDGE. AND THAT'S SO MUCH WORSE

basically I have never been more scared in my entire life because if they packed this much into the first two episodes and it was deemed tame enough to show ahead of release then what the fuck is in the next four. what are we getting ourselves in for . it's really dawning on me the scope of what this experience is going to be and I simply dont think im going to survive it. again I never expected any of this. this was my definitive "high hopes low expectations" season of tv and it's now it's shaping up to be one the best things I've probably ever seen in my life and. it's cognitive dissonance in its crystallised form. how did we fucking get here.

AND GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY??????? PLAYING IN CROWLEY'S CAR AS HE GOES TO MAKE UP WITH AZIRAPHALE?????? SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW THIS ISN'T FUNNY

in conclusion

[cephalog0d]

Batfic - "Haunted AF"

HAPPY SPOOKYWEEN here's some silly Batkids! (Shoutout to @dangerousdan-dan for motivating me to finish this even though it's very last minute XD)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Category: Gen Characters/Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake Additional Tags: Humor, Ghosts, Dick Grayson is a Troll, Jason Todd is a Troll, Batkids Being Batsibs

Summary:

“I mean, would you want to spend Halloween in a haunted fucking house?” Jason asked. He received a collection of blank stares and frowns for a second before anyone realized what he meant. “Jason, the Manor is not haunted,” Tim said with a truly impressive eye roll.

“Has Bruce worked out Halloween patrols yet?” Steph asked as she flopped sideways into an arm chair. “I mean I assume there’s going to be some kind of catastrophe to deal with.”

“Last I heard he was still narrowing down leads. I think I’m supposed to review some data scrapes from Babs later,” Tim said, frowning absently into his mug. Either because he was remembering the work he had to do or because he’d just realized his drink was gone, it wasn’t entirely clear.

“Ooh, fun,” Steph said with a smirk.

“Yeah, well. Failure to prepare is preparing to fail and all that.”

“What, did you swallow a motivational calendar?” Jason asked without looking up from his book.

“Too blessed to be stressed,” Tim intoned flatly.

“Hashtag blessed,” Cass corrected him with a grin. Steph made a choking noise and clapped a hand over her mouth to avoid spraying her drink all over herself while Jason shot both of them a look of outright disgust.

“Does the Manor get, like, trick or treaters and stuff?” Duke asked thoughtfully. “I mean it’s way out in the middle of nowhere.”

“I dunno, actually,” Tim said with a frown. “Nobody’s usually home on Halloween anyway, considering…” He gestured vaguely at all of them in a way that was apparently meant to indicate “being a vigilante in Gotham on Halloween”.

“I mean, would you want to spend Halloween in a haunted fucking house?” Jason asked. He received a collection of blank stares and frowns for a second before anyone realized what he meant.

“Jason, the Manor is not haunted,” Tim said with a truly impressive eye roll.

“What, are you kidding me? It’s Gotham. Gotham is hella haunted-”

“Don’t say hella.”

“-just in general and the Manor is definitely included in that. You know how old that place is? How many people used to live there before Bruce turned into the Bat Hermit? How much tragedy those walls have borne witness to?”

“‘Borne witness’?” Cass repeated softly to herself.

“There are no ghosts in Wayne Manor,” Tim said firmly. “I’ve never noticed anything strange. Or, you know, strange compared to our normal level of weird.”

“You barely lived there. I saw all sorts of weird shit when I was a kid. Stuff getting moved around even though no one was home, doors opening and closing on their own, weird shadows that shouldn’t be there moving around. That was the worst. Headed up the stairs in the dark, seeing someone lurking up ahead, assuming it’s Bruce, and then nope, he’s behind you and nobody’s there. Scared the shit out of me when I was little.”

“So a bunch of stuff that’s easily explained as a child’s imagination?” Tim asked, unimpressed.

“There’s also the mirror.”

“The mirror?” Steph repeated in a mockingly serious voice.

“One of the bathroom mirrors back in the back hall would always have handprints up in the top corner no matter how many times we cleaned it. Alfred just thought it was me and Dick messing with him. Eventually he decided it must’ve been stained somehow and just replaced the mirror, but the handprints came back pretty much immediately.”

“You are so full of shit!” Steph laughed loudly. Tim was silent but the hard stare he was directing at Jason was more than eloquent.

“I heard yelling, what’s going on?” Dick said from the hall, poking his head around the doorway.

“Just telling them about the ghosts,” Jason said evenly. Whatever reaction the others expected of Dick (probably either rolling his eyes or sternly telling Jason to knock it off), they didn’t get it. Dick just nodded, entirely unsurprised, as if that was a perfectly reasonable answer, eliciting another round of Looks between the kids as he wandered over to stand by Jason’s chair.

“Oh, yeah,” Dick said matter-of-factly. “The attic one who breaks glass at stupid o’clock in the morning or the one who leaves creepy handprints in the downstairs bathroom mirror?”

“Wait, that’s real?” Tim demanded incredulously.

“Yeah, and that thing in the tiny guest room that blows on your neck if you stay there too long.”

“Ugh, I hate that one,” Dick agreed with a shudder. “So creepy.”

The other four exchanged a complicated series of looks.

“Okay, so you’re both full of shit,” Steph said with less conviction than before.

“Believe what you want,” Jason said levelly. Dick just looked slightly confused at their skepticism.

“I...need to check something,” Tim said as he hurriedly packed up his laptop and phone.

“Oh, yeah, you want some help?” Steph offered.

“Uh, sure, I’m just gonna…” Tim did not actually finish explaining what he was going to do as he left, Steph and Cass trailing along behind him. Duke watched them go, glanced at Dick and Jason, then shrugged and went to follow.

“They’re totally going to spend all night ghost hunting,” Jason said once they were gone.

“Yup,” Dick grinned, holding out a hand in Jason’s direction. Jason rolled his eyes, but fist bumped him anyway.

“Should we make sure they find something?” he suggested with a smirk. Dick blinked at him, looking slightly confused again.

“You don’t think they will?” he asked innocently. Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously. That was absolutely one of Dick’s “I’m full of shit” voices.

“Of course they won’t, because the Manor’s not haunted,” Jason said slowly. “That was all bullshit.”

“Oh, right! Of course,” Dick agreed with a (fake as hell) easy smile.

“Dick.”

“Do you think Bruce has finished his patrol schedules yet?” Dick asked as he headed out of the room.

“Dick! You said you made it up! Dick!”

[swaglet]

the worst part about it is if you try to justify or explain your behavior to someone who isnt autistic it just sounds like youre complaining. "it makes me mad if i cant put that thing there. it makes me upset if it goes somewhere else because this is where its supposed to go. i have to do this or else it's ruined. it has to be this specific way or it's going to stress me out and i won't be able to focus on anything else." Okay maybe it's an inconvenience to you and you don't understand it and think i'm just insane and crazy and obsessive and rude but imagine what my life must feel like. for example (not the example that's making me rant in the first place but it's always the example i use) we have a shoe closet across from my front door and my mom likes having all of our shoes on the racks and closing the doors (hiding the shoes!!!! more unecessary steps to get to the shoes or put them away!!!!) so the house looks put together and nice. and i understand and respect her reasoning. but i have a rug that's out of the way of the door, outside the shoe and coat closet, where i very neatly line up my own pairs of shoes in the correct order. they're not in anyone's way and don't impede on the door opening or closing, i like them there because shoes go by the door for when you leave, they're organized by what type of event i will need them for, etc. but sometimes after my mom cleans she puts my shoes away in the closet and gets mad at me for not putting them back. and i understand why she gets mad i just cannot put them away like that it stresses me out so bad and makes me feel sick and i feel retarded for being that way but i literally get so upset putting them in the closet because it interferes with my morning routine/leaving the house routine and then i won't be sure i've done everything. and then i have to go through and find them and get out the shoes when i need them and they're not organized by function it's just so stressful. I sound like a fucking wackjob but this stuff just makes sense to me and i don't understand why people get so mad at me when they know i'm autistic. "We accept that you're autistic" until i show symptoms of autism type shit. like my mom will think i'm arguing with her reasoning or someone else will think so but it's like No i appreciate you do it that way and you can do it that way i'm not trying to fight with you just let me chill and do my own thang

[your-greatest-queen]

I know a lot of folks don't like ADHD meds, for a variety of reasons, but oh my god. Oh my motherfucking god. These are a godsend for me.

I've been on concerta for about a year now (lowest dosage) and it's helped improve my focus and has lowered my depression. I thought it was amazing. Recently, I got my dosage upped.

My bedroom was a high level depression pit. It was nasty. I haven't actually slept in my own bed in months because it was covered in stuff. But it was so overwhelming to look at that it triggered executive dysfunction with just a glance, and so I never could clean it. My room is now clean; reorganized, dusted, vacuumed, disinfected, redecorated- it's been YEARS since it looked this nice.

I'm in grade 12.5 because I was so dysfunctional in grade 11 that I dropped out halfway through. I spent grade 12 making up for it; but even then, on my first dosage and doing better, I wasn't doing great. I haven't taken notes in years. I have winged almost every test I've ever taken. I wrote every essay the night before it was due. Rough drafts who? I managed to pull decent grades, sometimes even pretty good ones. But it was never ending stress because of my habits and I was almost always behind.

I'm ahead in my classes now. I'm doing assignments the day they're assigned. I'm writing notes and brainstorming pages of ideas and breaking things down for myself. I'm getting straight 90s. I haven't felt this confident and secure in academics since middle school.

Our house was never totally clean. The basement (my charge) was always a disaster. Having people over was at best a little shameful and at worst downright humiliating. My mother cleans, but the messes she makes outweigh it. It was my job to handle the basics, at least, after school every day. I couldn't. I could do a few things, but I got burnt out or bored too fast to complete a day's work. Small projects were put off for months.

I come home from school now and within a couple of hours, I've vacuumed upstairs and downstairs, I've done the dishes, I've taken out the trash, I've brushed the cats, I've cleaned the living room and the kitchen, I've switched the laundry- yesterday I used the toilet and then just. Reorganized the entire bathroom. Today I came home and immediately untangled the huge knotted ball of my mother's necklaces that she asked me to fix for her weeks ago. On Saturday not only did I brush my cats, I also shampooed them, conditioned them, and clipped their claws.

I used to hoard clothing because going through them was the most tedious, boring task in existence. I've recently donated over six full garbage bags worth of stuff.

I used to have to write down every single task as soon as it was given, even if there were only two, because I'd always forget at least one thing. Now I can remember upwards of five things at once, even better than the person who assigned the task in the first place.

My moods feel more regulated, I'm socializing more, I'm advocating for myself in situations where I'd previously let people walk over me, I'm making goals for the future, I have more real free time, I'm less stressed- it's a little sad that I've spent almost a decade not getting this, but I am BEYOND thrilled that I get to have this now :D

Anyway, lil happy rant because I'm very very excited!! Thanks for reading, byyyye~

[pokechbi]

Chapter 2 <3

"What the fuck, Cassidy." Here we go again.. I thought to myself. I can never catch a break. 

Mark gets out of the driver's side and slams the door. Hard. I almost flinch, but the encounter we just had with that Detective had to be the most humbling thing that had happened to Mark. And that pleased me. I was distracted in my own thoughts when Mark yelled at me to help him unload our belongings from the car. 

Well if you're the strong man you claim to be, do it your fucking self. I almost giggled. I was loving my newfound confidence. I was happy that I had something to distract myself mentally. I had some hope for my new start. 

As I get out of the passenger side door, I inhale the cold, crisp, misty air that smelled of grass and dew. I smiled at the freshness of the cold suburban air, glad that I can breathe again. While I missed the sunny, bustling climate of Miami, I won't say that it isn't congested and loud. And very hot. The winter quietness of my new little place was refreshing. 

"You seem to like it here already" Mark says. I didn't ask for his two cents.

"I do love it. It's so fresh and quiet. I'm glad we came." I say. I'd better stay on his good side for now if I actually want to enjoy it here. At least until I'm ready to haul ass away from him. 

"Now that's more like it. See how we have such good times when you're grateful for what I do for us?" He chuckles. He walks away from his side of the car where he's unloading, and approaches me. He puts an arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. Don't cringe. Don't cringe. I lean into his shoulder, and smile as we look at our quaint little house. The exterior paint was gray and white, with a rounded exterior window. I couldn't wait to get inside. Hopefully it had more than one bedroom so I can make one of them my space. Somewhere to de-stress and relax. 

While Mark and I were unloading the rest of our things, we saw a run-down RV slowly drive past us. I looked through the driver's side, which had tinted windows and was only cracked a smidge. Hm. With all of these nice houses, who would be driving that kind of RV? The window suddenly rolled down some more, and I got a glance of a kid with messy long hair, and outdated 70s glasses. How weird. I thought to myself. 

"What's an RV like that doing in a neighborhood like this?" I say. 

"I don't know, but it gives me the fuckin creeps. Hopefully he's just drivin' past. We don't need no creeps around here doin' some shady shit." Mark replies. 

"Yeah." Like he'd actually protect me if something happened. I want to chuckle, but I hold it. "Let's just get inside" I sigh. 

...

Unpacking is always an unwanted chore that I hate. I sat on the patio steps, getting as much of that crisp November air that I fell in love with just a few hours ago. The sun was setting, and I wanted to watch it set while sitting on my new, but temporary patio.

I didn't have much, but we planned on shopping for stuff anyway later on in the week. There wasn't much space to fit a lot of things in our Miami apartment, so we didn't bring much. Plus, Mark was too cheap to rent a movers van, and we only had a rinky dink pick up truck to hold us over.

I had lined up an office job before I got here, but wasn't starting until two weeks after today. I had some time to kill while Mark went to work at some office downtown in the bustling part of Conyers. 

"Babe, I start working at that new place downtown tomorrow. You gonna be alright alone here?" Speak of the devil, and he appears. 

"Yeah, I'll be alright. I'll just do some cleaning and setting up the house." I say nonchalantly. 

"Good girl, that's what I like to hear." 

Yeah, whatever, Mark. As if I do everything for him, and only him. I only want peace, tranquility, and my old self back. I couldn't wait for him to go to work, and leave me be. Back in Miami, he barely worked, and baited his parents into giving us money for a house. Mark's parents were filthy rich and provided him with what he needed, but wanted nothing to do with me or their freeloading son. If only they knew. I wasn't the bad guy here.

"Anna!" "Joy!" We heard distant yelling from a street ahead of us. It was a boy and the lady from the family from before, only missing the blonde little girl, and the tall, lumberjack man that was with them.

"I guess their little girl ran off to play somewhere. I hope she's alright. It's getting pretty cold for her to be outside" I say. 

"Whatever, not our problem" What an ass. It was a cold night, and they're calling out for their child. How dense can you be, Mark?  "You comin', or are you gonna sit here all night like a loner. You'll get sick or somethin' and then I'll have to care of you. Come on." He knees me in the shoulder, and that did it for my peaceful sunset watching. 

... 

I walk into the house, reeking of paint and the faint smell of our old Miami apartment floating off of our belongings. 

"I'm goin' to bed. I'll shower before work tomorrow. You comin?" 

"Yeah, I'll be up soon, I'll just sit here on the couch for a while." The house came with a couch from the previous owner, but it was corduroy, my favorite material. The couch looked relatively unused and didn't smell like anything really. Just fabric. 

"I thought you hated that material, Cass. Don't worry, we'll get a new couch soon. Just give your man some time to work for it." 

Was that his attempt at a gesture? What a man. Couldn't even remember that this material is my favorite.

I sigh, and lie my head on the couch's armrest. "I guess so, but I'll be good for now. See you soon." He approaches me and kisses my forehead. 

"Night, Cass"

Hopefully he falls asleep before I manage to get up there.

[bomberqueen17]

what year is it

i’m at that point where-- oh, no it’s been a while that i just plain haven’t known what year it was. i lost count somewhere and idk. how old am I? what year is it? we’ll figure it out.

Spent a couple hours the day before yesterday, during which I urgently needed to be working on cleaning my house, instead helping dude’s mom shovel out. she’d been working for hours, slowly, pacing herself-- she’s 70 after all, and in okay shape but not particularly athletic-- and then the plows finally came by and really plowed her in and she called nearly in tears, and Dude was ass-deep in alligators at work and I said, “give me an hour, and I’ll be over.”

So I got an hour’s worth of very necessary cleaning on the guest room, since my sister is staying there on the night of the 1st. I need to do more cleaning though, because of course she’s with her husband and Farmkid, who will be one day away from turning 9, and is like five feet tall, so they don’t all fit in that one guest bed and I need to clear out a bunch of space in the living room where somebody’s getting the couch. They’re always here in winter; I have guest space on the porch, but not when it’s cold! Oh well.

Anyway. Left that to do later, in what free time I don’t know, I’ll figure it out, and went over and spent two hours shoveling. It was a hard two hours; the snow was really compacted and wet. But we got a lot done. I cleared out the end of the driveway in about 35 intensive minutes, then went back and started on the Drift of Doom blocking the garage. She came out eventually and joined me, and together we broke through the drift but only got the path about four feet wide. Still, that was huge. On my way out I broke up a lot of the snow hoping to get it to melt. But I had to work yesterday, so i couldn’t continue.

She says it’s fine she’ll just back her car over the rest of the pile. I’m a bit concerned. But Dude managed to get out to grocery shop, and did the shopping for her too so she doesn’t have to get her car out and can just wait. She said she didn’t need to go anywhere else. So if she can make it, great, and if not, well, hopefully the thaw takes it down the rest of the way.

Anyway now we’re on flood warnings everywhere. We got 51″ of snow, was the final total, and now it’s 55F outside, room temperature basically, and so everything is melting *everywhere*. I am terrified for my basement, which I used to be great about keeping stuff off the floor of and lately I haven’t been able to and well, if it’s gonna flood I guess it’s gonna flood. I’m so nervous. OH i forgot.

wednesday night, when the temperature first rose, I woke up at 1:30 am to Dude saying, loudly, “OH NO.” I came fully awake immediately, and he said, “why is this wet”, and then I heard it, water dripping, next to my face, and I got so mad because that happened to me so much over the summer in the cabin without a real roof and I was like “NO this is my INDOOR HOUSE” but

the blizzard had forced fine snow through the cracks of the roof deck and it had collected and run down to the edge of the roof and melted into a puddle on the attic floor and now was in the ceiling of our bedroom dropping onto our faces. We had to go clear out a corner of the attic and mop frantically and it was still dripping afterward so I slept in the guest bed and dude slept on the couch so at least when my sister’s family comes we can attest that the sleeping accomodations are comfy.

anyway i’m like. idk the stress is a lot for some reason I genuinely can’t puzzle out. i’m very frazzled. i’m making progress cleaning the house. it’s not the dirt it’s just that there’s so much stuff i haven’t put away in all my traveling and back and forth i never unpacked and anyway it’s just piles of things, and anything that’s put away i’ve forgotten i owned so the only things i use are the things in the piles.

I helpfully tidied everything away into my bedroom and then I get up before Dude so I can’t get dressed until he wakes up and it’s awful. so. anyway. unsustainable. can’t live like this. have to live like this.

Also it’s only 23 days until we go on vacation and i have at least five more garments i desperately want to make so we shall see, especially if i have no time to work on them, what gets done. 

oh AND i have cramps, so that’s just like. shit icing on that cake really.

prayer circle for nobody drowning in these floods and the property damage to be minimal and for them to stop finding bodies in snowdrifts here.

[whentherewerebicycles]

here is a scruffy little angel! ok I feel pretty fragile inside from a week of bad sleep & an especially terrible insomnia experience last night but I am trying to be brave about it. two of my grad school friends I haven’t seen in forever are in town this weekend and I am v excited about that!!! I always get weird homebody inertia around social stuff but then I have a great time (like last night I really dragged my feet on hanging out with M&A in the park/getting dinner after and then it was so much fun) so I just have to commit to stuff even if I feel like socially hibernating. when it comes to most social things my instincts are not a reliable guide to what will actually make me happy. so tonight I will meet up with them for dinner/drinks and then tomorrow we will hang out at the lake.

here are some things I’d like to do with the day:

finish young mungo which is absolutely gutting ughhh so painful but so good. I kind of want to put up my hammock and read somewhere without distractions but can’t decide if it’s too much effort. mm tbd.

work on writing meme prompts (this has been v good for me it’s forcing me to dig into scene writing/revision which for whatever reason is the thing I’ve built up the most writer’s block anxiety around)

the house is a tip right now it’s not dirty really just super untidy and the clutter is making me feel on edge. I think I need to do a few song-timed bursts of putting stuff in its proper place and ugh I might actually start with that so my brain feels calmer about other stuff

fold laundry

long walk with dogs because I didn’t walk them at all yesterday… I can tell I am avoiding walks partly because it’s a bit hotter out and partly because I’m getting Walk Boredom with our usual route. I think I’ll drive them to the slightly farther-out forest (4 min instead of 2 min haha) because it’ll be cooler and kinda interesting/new. also if I’m feeling really motivated I could do a very short run after I drop them off at home—I’m talking like, 3 min run / 3 min walk times 3 short haha. gotta ease back into it somehow.

pick something to wear well in advance of leaving. otherwise I will get so stressed later on and will end up running way later than I mean to & being way more amped up when I leave. why are clothes so stressful to me literally no one cares and I feel like people care even less in this city than anywhere else I’ve ever lived lol

shower around 3:30/4 so I can be ready to leave between 5-6ish

mm okay that all seems good. I think now it’s time to get up and do my first burst of song cleaning… maybe I will do all too well 10 min version + I can see you.

[skysometric]

2023 Resolutions In Review

it's new year's resolution season, and for me, that means looking back as much as looking forward. yesterday i wrote about all that i accomplished this year, and today, i want to look at the resolutions i wrote for 2023. i got so much done that, surely, i knocked those out of the park… right?

so as the year draws to a close, i’m not making any resolutions about what i’ll accomplish online, because i know that i’ll be drawn to it no matter what happens. no, my resolution for 2023 is to improve my IRL, so that this year is not as miserable as the past two have been.

uh. Shit

okay, so… i definitely neglected my IRL this year, in favor of creativity. i'll freely admit that some of it was escapism, throwing myself into the act of creation so that i could get away from how i felt about my life. but other parts of it were to get something off my plate, so that i could handle my IRL with more grace and less stress. so it wasn't all bad!

but this quote especially hits like a truck:

then, once i’ve bolstered my IRL with stronger foundations, more joy, new inspirations, less stress… online stuff will naturally follow. i will always want to create. resolutions are for putting in the work.

the sad truth is that i did not get the stronger foundations that i wanted; most of my year was spent in survival mode until i could get home and create again. i want to create out of joy, not escapism! to be clear, there's nothing wrong with the latter – but only i have the tools to get out of survival mode, and i did not accomplish that this year.

i did, however, put a dent in the mountain of stress. here's some things i tackled IRL:

my partner and i put a LOT of effort into improving her mental and physical health this year, getting her to new appointments and treatment and professional help that she did not have last year. i consider this our biggest IRL accomplishment of 2023!

with good budgeting, my partner and i were able to upgrade our computers, phones, and consoles. every single device i just listed was 5-10 years old and falling apart at the seams, so these were very necessary upgrades! all of them have contributed to us getting more creative work done this year, like my upgraded computer allowing me to stream more often – as well as getting more rest.

we also got out of the house more, picking random nights to go shopping, go to the park, or just get food. it's nice to be able to do that again, after the pandemic locked us in the house for so long… but we're just natural couch potatoes anyway lol

i have a psychiatrist and a therapist now! i don't get to see them often due to my health insurance, but it's a good start and something i may be able to invest more into in 2024.

speaking of which, i got to try ADHD meds this year. they didn't work out… but i did try, and it was worth the effort of trying. i would like to try again next year, though i am not making it a resolution.

i wouldn't call this an accomplishment… but we lost two cats this year, and while we'll miss them dearly, it does mean a lot less cleaning and chores to take care of our remaining two cats. having four cats was a commitment we did not choose in the first place, and it was a sore spot for many reasons – but we did our best to care for them anyway.

it's a lot for one year! and i did accomplish my goal of being less miserable than last year… it's just not everything i hoped for, resolved for. i've allegorically polished up my house, but the house itself is still built on shaky ground.

i would say something like, "oh well, there's always next year!" and in truth, there are a lot of opportunities on the horizon that could very well bring the stronger foundations i'm looking for. but i am not going to make the same resolution again… because, quite frankly, i don't know what it takes to get out of survival mode! and i can't possibly predict how a year will go, or what the whims of my ADHD will decide to focus on. i'd rather play it by ear, and just… try to be cognizant of how much i'm leaning on escapism.

so here ends this resolution… but 2024 brings new possibilities, and maybe they'll lead me to where i was already headed.

[demonichikikomori]

congratulations on your moving!! 🥳🎉

I hope you're happier and less stressed in your new place with your sister!!

Wishing you all the best Devil !! 💞💓💖

—🌻

Ahhh! Thank you thank you Sunflower! I’m so so excited haha. I’ve always dreamed of owning my own space. Experiencing what it’s like to learn such responsibilities… I get to buy my own groceries hehe. Well, I sorta did before. But now it’s different! It’s just for me and my younger sister!

I have to go out house shopping… Maybe next week? I have to buy shower curtains! And me and my sister decided on a classy theme for our bathroom haha. My friend bought me a bath mat for Xmas so I plan to put it to good use! Oh, I need to buy lots of cleaning supplies too…

Maybe I should make a list of things to buy and what order they come in. I am very excited for us to live together. I adore my younger sister to death, she truly is my everything in this world. If I have the power to make life easier for her, I would always take the opportunity.

That being said, during the week of me moving I’m going to be very, very inactive because I have a lot of stuff to do! But don’t worry. I’ll be back once I get my computer plugged in. I might even consider buying a laptop? I’ve never had one but it could be nice. Instead of a bed I’m shooting for a futon.

Fuck everyone who shits on the idea of buying a futon “oh a futon isn’t comfortable!1!!” “dont buy a futon D thats dumb!!!”

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

I am going to sleep on a futon on my floor and I’m going to be very comfortable. I’m going to be happy in my Hikikomori room with a bookcase for my figurines, doujin, and my PlayStation games. Leave me alone.

Anyways,

I hope to impress you all with my ability to survive on my own. Let’s get excited.

[hollyannewrites]

No Way to Move On...

“Glad to hear you’ve been enjoying the warmer weather, Myra,” Francene said, crossing her ankles. “Now, I know we had an appointment set for next week, but you called to move up our session. Is everything alright?”

I folded my hands in my lap, considering for a few seconds before I replied. “I think I’m in love.”

Francene grinned, brown smile lines creasing her face. “Well, isn’t that lovely.” She picked up her pen and notepad from the table beside her without looking—she always made an effort to make our conversations feel natural, not like she was observing me clinically. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I nodded, picking absently at my nails. I’d thought about how I wanted to explain the situation on the train ride here, but the details still caught in my throat. What if she thought I was crazy? I’d never brought anything like this to her before—usually we focused heavily on managing my anxiety, or the stresses of living far away from my family. This was… not the same.

“Myra?”

My gaze flicked up and caught her expectant gaze. I’d let the silence hang.

            “Right, sorry. Just figuring out where to start.”

            “Don’t worry about getting it exactly right. You can just say what you’re thinking.”

            I took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, then slowly releasing. No way around it, I just needed to get it out.

“Ok, yeah. So, like I said, I think I’m in love. I’m in love with my roommate, Lucas. I might have mentioned him a few times before. He moved in a few days before me, was subletting from someone I didn’t really know. We were awkward at first, but now we get along fine. When I turn on the TV, he’ll come sit and watch with me, or sometimes we just settle on the couch and talk for hours.

We’re a lot alike, in some ways. His family also lives pretty far away, all the way out in Portland, and he almost never sees them. He works from home, does some sort of computer job, and feels a little isolated because he doesn’t really interact with coworkers much. We like the same genre of music—classic rock—and we both love to put on Led Zeppelin while we clean. We’re both left-handed but neither of us own left-handed scissors so we always rock-paper-scissors whenever something needs cutting out. Our politics are similar, we share similar feelings about faith, or rather, lack thereof, and we’ve always agreed easily about how we want to take care of our space.

It’s not like we’re identical or anything, like, he’s a night owl and I’m a morning person, and he is very introverted and I love meeting new people, but there’s nothing so glaringly different between us that we have tension about it. It’s genuinely nice to come home from the grocery store, or therapy, or a walk in the park, and know that he’ll be around the house, and we can hang out.

He sometimes goes out of his way to do nice things for me—like he’ll clean the apartment while I’m gone or turn off all the lights before he goes to sleep because I always forget. He’s sweet, and polite about it. If I bring up the things he does for me, he’ll just shrug and say it makes him feel good to do things for people, especially stuff that makes their life easier. Once he even said that hard work doesn’t count if it’s for people he really cares about.”

My face flushed at the memory. Lucas, in the kitchen, with a dish towel slung over one shoulder, grinning casually. His stormy gray eyes had twinkled a little, and his smile made my stomach flutter. He’d cleaned the mountain of dirty dishes even though it was my turn to do it and primarily my mess—he never seemed to contribute to the pile of sauced-up plates and coffee-ringed cups. I hadn’t thought anything of it then, but now, knowing that he really didn’t use the kitchen, didn’t need to… Well, it makes sense.

“I’ve really grown close with him in the months that I’ve lived there. He’s helped me get past feeling isolated here, since he so often seeks me out. He makes me feel like a valuable presence at home, which has boosted my confidence. I get this rush of comfort and happiness when I think about spending time with him. That’s new for me. I’m pretty sure that I’m really falling in love with him.”

I couldn’t keep gushing about how lovely he was—or rather, I could, but that wasn’t the reason I’d scheduled this session with Francene.

Her face had its practiced, neutral expression in place, the one she reserved for listening and withholding judgement. That careful detachment was the reason I decided to stick with her as my therapist when I moved out here. Her reactions and feelings didn’t cut me off when I started to open up. The uncreased, slightly-head-tilted look relieved the tension that usually coiled around my shoulders, and the words just flew.

As I watched her, she nodded once, an invitation for me to continue. I squeezed my hands together, tight, then picked up my story.

“There’s basically only one thing that frustrates me about Lucas. He has no interest in the exterior. What I mean is, he never wants to go out anywhere or go do anything. I’ve invited him to parties, restaurants, I asked him to come to a Joan Jett concert with me, but no matter what it is or how much I’m certain he’d enjoy it, he always says no. He’s polite about it, for sure, but he literally always rejects the offer. And he doesn’t like when the exterior becomes the interior. Whenever I have friends over, he always hides away in his room and will not come out. He’s literally never met any of my friends or our neighbors, even if I invite him to hang out with us and no matter how much I emphasize that he’s welcome to join our plans.

Like I said, I’m more of an extrovert, so I guess he’s just a tiny bit anti-social sometimes or easily overwhelmed by new people and situations, but it’s still frustrating to try to share my life and invite him in and to meet with such strong resistance. Like, would it kill him to go to the park just once?”

I winced at my choice of words. Across from me, Francene’s pen was scratching along the lines of her notepad, picking up in pace when she saw clocked my reaction.

“How does it make you feel that he doesn’t agree to these things?” she questioned.

“I mean, I get it now. It’s difficult, yeah, but like I said, I really do like him, so I can usually overlook it.”

If I wanted this to work out, I’d have to overlook it.

Francene cleared her throat softly—I’d let the silence hang for longer than I meant to. “So, you came to see me about your relationship with Lucas?”

Time for the moment of truth. “Sort of. On Monday, something happened…” How was she going to react to this? The thought tightened my throat.

“What happened on Monday, Myra?” A glow of concern colored her brown eyes.

“My landlord came over, with someone looking to sublet. A very nice girl from Seattle.”

“Ah. So you didn’t know Lucas wasn’t going to continue subletting there?”

“Not exactly. I asked Andy—that’s my landlord—about Lucas leaving, since he hadn’t said anything to me. And Andy got a little upset with me. He asked me if I’d been lying, if I’d had another person living there with me even though I’d only paid for my room, not both.”

His face had been rather red, and spittle gathered on the lower bristles of his mustache as he’d blustered about rental agreements and improper use of his property and a dozen other things that were lost on me. The girl who’d come with had stared at me openly, confused and suspicious but not unsympathetic as the tirade dragged on.

“I managed to explain to him that I hadn’t brought Lucas to live there—he’d moved in before me, after all. We’d never met before I arrived here that first day. Andy asked to speak to ‘this Lucas character’, so I led him to Lucas’ room, and knocked on the door. He was almost certainly home—like I said, he never goes out much, but like usual, his bedroom door was shut. I realized while I was knocking that I’d actually never been inside of his room or seen what it looked like inside.”

Francene was frowning at this point, and she flipped to a new page of notes.

“After a minute or so of knocking, Andy just loudly announced that he was coming in, and he opened the door. And…” My breath hitched. “And the room was empty. I don’t just mean he wasn’t there; it was completely empty. Four blank white walls, a hardwood floor, and a thick layer of dust on the single windowsill.”

The pen stopped scratching. I squeezed my eyes shut—it was too late to take it back.

“Andy turned on me, and glared, and said he didn’t appreciate me wasting his time with pranks. He asked me to give him some space to show the apartment and waved me off. I tried to explain but I really couldn’t think of anything to say. What explanation was there? My roommate who was apparently a squatter had moved out all of his things and vanished overnight without me noticing? It just didn’t make sense.

So I went into my room, and sat on my bed, and just sorta spaced out until I heard the front door slam shut behind Andy. I crept out of my room and wandered from room to room, trying to find anything that belonged to Lucas, a note he’d left or a missing sock he’d forgotten or anything at all, but there wasn’t anything. It was like he’d never been there at all.”

I spared Francene the details of how hard I’d been crying as I ended up in his empty room and curled up on the dirty ground for hours—it wouldn’t matter in just a few minutes anyway.

“I was shocked, confused. I couldn’t imagine him disappearing without saying anything—we were closer than that, or at least I had thought so. After a bit, I made up my mind to reach out and ask him what had happened, but then I remembered I didn’t actually have his phone number. We saw each other constantly, so it just somehow never came up. We’d left each other occasional notes on the fridge, although there weren’t any still stuck on there when I looked for them.

So I didn’t know how to get ahold of him. It’s not the dark ages, so I decided to try social media. Who doesn’t have any socials these days, right? I went on my phone, opened Facebook, and typed in his name. Lucas Planck. A small handful of accounts came up, but I felt like I knew enough to figure out which one was his. I clicked through a few until I found one that I thought was his, even though the profile picture was just some sunflowers. It listed the hometown as Portland, showed what college he’d gone to, and had a few liked posts about Metallica and some old articles about developments in computer science. I opened the old profile pictures and found one that had his face in it—and sure enough, it was him.

I sent him a friend request and a quick message asking him if we could talk. I didn’t get a response right away, and I was feeling really anxious, so I just wanted to see if he came up anywhere else online. I typed his name into my browser, and the first few things that popped up were about other Lucas’, but near the bottom of the first page of results, there was an article from a few years ago. It was published in the local paper here, and I opened it in a new tab.”

It was a mistake, bringing this to Francene. I could feel myself shaking as I spoke, and I didn’t want to see her reaction to this. I didn’t want her to know—she’d call me crazy. I’d sound crazy. But there was no way out, now—I couldn’t leave without an explanation, and there was no explanation for everything I’d said so far except the truth.

“Local man’s body discovered in apartment after several days—the smell alerted neighbors. That’s what the article was called.” I swallowed hard. “Just underneath was a picture of Lucas, and a short article about how a neighbor smelled something horrible and called the police, and they discovered a body that had been dead for some time, after a head injury from an accidental fall in the bedroom had caused bleeding in the brain, or something like that. It said—the article claimed—that the dead man was Lucas. My Lucas. My roommate Lucas. And it was his picture on the article.”

My knuckles were white where I squeezed my fingers together.

“I almost threw up, reading the page over and over. And then… And then Lucas walked into the room from the hallway, frowning.”

He’d been paler than usual and sighed heavily as he came into view. With a slow nod, he’d settled down on the far end of the couch, cross-legged as always, and pointed at my screen.

“He apologized that I’d found out like this, that he’d meant to tell me. I was pinching myself to see if I was having a nightmare, but I wasn’t. Lucas stayed very calm as he explained to me that the article was correct, that that was him, and that he’d been drifting around this empty apartment, unseen and unheard, until I’d shown up, and I saw him. He said as far as he could tell no one else had been able to see him, and I seemed nice and it felt so good to just have someone to talk to, and so he’d hidden the truth.”

His eyes—or what looked like eyes to me—had watered, and he’d swiped at them with the back of his sweater. Would his sleeve have felt wet if I touched it? Could I have touched it? I realized that we’d never physically touched, never brushed up against each other, never even come close. He had pushed up his thick curls where they flopped over his left ear, and under it, I could see an angry, inky-purple bruise, swollen and yet obviously indented. Saliva had coated my tongue, and I’d swallowed down the bile that crept up my throat.

“I didn’t know what to do, pinned in place by the surrealness of what was happening. He didn’t seem to know where to go from there either, so we just sat, silently, for what felt like hours. Then he stood, and walked out of the room, and said if I wanted to, we could talk about it in the morning.

I didn’t sleep—I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about how much I cared about him, and then lurching feeling I’d felt when I saw the empty room and thought he’d vanished and I didn’t know how to reconcile that my close friend, the person I’d started to really fall in love with, was dead and had been the whole entire time.”

I was staring into my lap—I didn’t want to know what Francene was doing, and I couldn’t really hear her pen over the roaring blood in my ears.

“I thought I’d have time to figure out what I wanted to do, but my landlord texted me yesterday that the girl from Seattle had agreed to sublet, and she’s moving in next week. She’s moving into Lucas’ room. I can’t tell her we’ll be sharing our home with a ghost that she might not even be able to see, but I also don’t want to stop being able to hang out with Lucas. I’ m not... I’m not afraid of him, of what he is, and somehow, I still want him there. I still feel that connection. But she’s coming, and I’m going to lose that, and I don’t know what to do even do. It’s not like I could move out—Lucas couldn’t come with. And I can’t stop her from coming. But what can I do?” My voice got louder and louder as the questions spilled over.

When I finally paused and looked up, Francene was staring. She was trying hard to keep her face clear of emotion, but underneath, the fear and disappointment and concern were obvious.

“Alright, Myra, why don’t we slow down and talk a little more about this? Is there anything you haven’t mentioned about when you see Lucas, or how he acts toward you?”

She spoke very gently, and even though the word never crossed her lips, I heard it plain as day. Crazy. Francene had decided I was crazy, delusional, insane. This conversation wasn’t going to help me figure out how to stay with Lucas. She’d diagnose me with something or other, ship me off to a facility or drug me into a haze—I couldn’t bear it.

I pushed up from the leather seat, grabbing my purse and quickly going to the door. “Thanks for listening, Francene. That helped, really. I feel better about it. I think I’m good now. I’m gonna go,” I gushed as I opened the door and hurried into the hall.

I heard her footsteps coming after me, but I just called out to the receptionist, asking her to cancel my future appointments, and hustled out the front door as fast as possible, briskly making my way out onto the busy sidewalk towards our apartment.

Lucas and I would just have to come up with our own solution. He’d listened to me all evening yesterday while I rambled, and he’d even suggested I try talking to Francene, since she usually helped me so much when I was upset—he couldn’t have known how she’d react.

We’d figure it out, somehow. We’d figure it out together. It’ll be hard, but that doesn’t matter—I care about him. I might even be in love.

[pbandjesse]

I am so mad that I forgot to actually post my post last night. It was just sitting in my drafts. Over the years that had happened a few times but it always makes me feel terrible. And honestly I had kind of a tough day emotionally.

I think I'm just drained. I felt so bad that I had to cancel hanging out with Charlie and I had really been looking forward to that.

But today was tough.

I slept okay last night but I did get woken up a few times. Sweetp decided to lay on me and I didn't want hint o run away so I tried to turn over very very slowly. Which seemed to work for a while and I got to steal his warmth.

I woke up and was alright. I wasn't great. I tried to be positive. I had to take James to the surgeon. I had slept as late as I reasonably could and still get ready calmly.

And I felt really cute. I enjoyed my outfit. I felt really cozy. This sweatshirt is not super easy to put on or take off but it's super warm and very cozy. So I didn't need to wear a jacket. Which is ideal for me when I'm driving. I don't love driving in a coat.

I dropped James off at the hospital. And I felt like people were really being dumb today. Just honking a lot for no reason. Tailgating. Switching around me and others. It was stressing me out.

I didn't know how long James would be. So I went to Wawa to get a sandwich. Which was fine but wasn't as good as I had hoped it would be. I'm glad I got a small one.

James was just getting back in the office when I finished eating so I decided to go to target to get the last of my Christmas presents.

And I had a good time walking around but my stomach hurt really bad. I had forgotten my headphones in my other bag so I had to listen to the store. I was slowly getting overheated. But I got everything I wanted. And texted James that I was heading towards them.

I had to keep circling the neighborhood because I didn't know where to pull over for them. And people were making me really nervous. But soon James was right there and everything was okay.

And James was given stellar reviews. The doctor said we did a great job with the cleaning and the dressings and said James was healing wonderfully. And they want them to stop wearing the brace all the time. To start building up muscle and getting some motion back. They also took all the staples out which was the thing that was bothering them the most so I was thrilled about that.

They got some antibiotic infused butterfly bandaids across the whole wound. And so we will just keep an eye on their until their next appointment in the new year. Which is when their PT should start.

We headed to their parents house next to work on cleaning our blankets and packing up the garage.

This is where I started falling apart. I was exhausted emotionally. And like it was nice seeing Anne for the couple minutes til she left for the doctors and it was nice to sit with Tucker for a while. But I was exhausted and falling apart. James said we would be there for up to 3 hours and I was not doing well.

After the first set of blankets were in the dryer we put the next two in and then after like a half hour James realized that the washing machine wouldn't turn on. They were sure they broke it and we're really upset. But Tucker said it has been struggling to lock and it wasn't their fault. But we wouldn't be able to do the rest today. Frustrating but not the worst thing.

But I was upset that James was so quick to blame themselves. And I needed to go home. I could barely keep my eyes open. I felt bad we didn't get the garage sorted but I couldn't keep it together.

James practiced driving and feels comfortable enough to keep working on that. So they drove me home.

We went inside together. And they made sure I was alright before they went back out.

I think it was more my social battery. I have had to do so much with people and have barely had time alone. I started feeling better almost as soon as James left.

I changed the kitty litter and picked up some stuff around the apartment. And then I got in bed and just was a potato for a long time. I was cozy and was slowly feeling better. Charlie told me not to feel bad and it just rest. But I still felt bad canceling. But I also knew I wouldn't be very fun today.

James would get home and they had their new bike. Diaz and some of the boys raised money for James and they were able to get a beautiful purple road bike. It's pretty awesome and honestly I just love how much others love my James.

James would make me spegetti but it was kind of dishwatery. It wasn't horrible but it was kind of weak.

But I was feeling a lot better. And so I was able to actually work on some studio stuff. I want to make applique quilt squares for gifts and my experiments with that are going really well. And I started practicing painting a screen. I'm not sure this is the correct type of screen but it's fun to try!

I started feeling more like myself. Eventually I would just chill on the couch for a while. I would take a shower. Wash my hair. And me and James played some of our video game together. Where it got to real about depression and James got a little misty eyed.

I finished drying my hair and James told me they love seeing how I take care of myself, the processes and rituals. I love them very much. And I'm so excited to get held with two arms again.

Now though I am ready for bed. I am actually going to post this and not leave it sitting in my drafts. Tomorrow is a busy day but I am hoping it will be fun.

Sleep good everyone. Be safe.

[larrysballetslippers]

Hey love, it's the lost anon again! I haven't been here for a while sorry for that. I missed you. How are you doing? Have you been well? Hope you're getting all the love that you deserve <33

So well ig I'm here again cuz i have nowhere else to go haha . It's been a rough couple of days, maybe weeks. I can't seem to keep track of it. My parents keep having these arguments over small things. It's starting to be a regular thing now. Whatever the topic may be, my parents are arguing over almost every thing. My mum is always frustrated and on edge lately, partially bcuz of her work stress but shes not like she used to be. There are some fine days where it's kinda normal but i just feel like im the cause of it all. My dad's started to be lazy and oblivious to what's happening in the house and like not caring a lot about stuff and just uk not talking things seriously. And my mum thinks that's she's always to blame and that shes angry that no one helps her in doing the housework. I try to help but i just feel like i end up making it worse uk. And buz my mums always in a bad mood it gets taken out of me all the time. Whenever I go to talk i feel like im doing something wrong. And my dad seems to have stopped worrying about it. I tried talking to my mum and asking what's wrong but all i get is the feeling that it's because of me, bcuz i did something wrong. And this environment is affecting me more than i thought it would. My mental health has been shit for the last couple of weeks. I feel hopeless and lazy and just i don't have energy to do anything. It's like i don't feel anything. I'm always trying to be happy ig, or at least not useless and broken. But i feel so lonely and stuck. I haven't been able to talk about my feels and idk if there anyone in my life that can listen to me and not judge me for it? I feel so suffocated and like i should just not exist. I feel the old depressed me coming back and idk how to stop that.

Sorry for the venting but I have nowhere else to go I'm really sorry

Hello lost anon💜💜 Before we start talking, let's hug. Pretend you're under my wing and I'm hugging you tight, all you feel is my hug. Do you feel it? Now, hug yourself for me, really really tight, then let go. That's feeling, you feel things, you're alive and you have all the feelings in the world, how numb you may thing you are. This probably will be very very long and a little personal, so cut.

I can relate to your situation more than you think. My parents also fight a lot, mostly about money. Money has been the source of our problems for the past... 12 years, may even more. My mom stopped working to take care of me and my sister, because she couldn't juggle all the balls. My dad doesn't do anything in the house, or for his children. All he does is earn money. You would think that was normal at a time, but the problem is, he expected my mom to keep working while doing EVERYTHING in the house. My dad doesn't even clean his dirty plates and only cooks when my mom is bedridden or has to be out for an emergency. So he makes my mom angry, and she feels broken and powerful.

I'm not saying that you're mom's like that, but remember that she's human too. While I know you already talked to her, maybe try to just hear her out? Go sit next to her and give her an hug, maybe she doesn't understand at first and won't talk. But begin about your day and ask about hers. Maybe after a while she will feel like she can talk to you about things. That will lead to you being able to talk to her. Without her getting angry, or you feeling guilty. Also, if possible, talk to you dad. He's still your father and although I can't, you should try to talk to him as well.

About your feelings of guilt. I can actually relate soooo well, more than you could think. I feel guilty that my mom had to stop working, so she would be dependent of my father. If she didn't, she's wouldn't be this broken. I feel guilty that I was born, that she is linked to this man for the rest of her life. Yes my sister came first, but of course I don't blame her. I only blame myself. I feel guilty that I don't have a good relationship with my dad, because she could just run away and divorce him if I did. Leave us behind, but she can't. If she goes, she has to take me. The most painful thing, I always thought that, but I didn't know if she actually considered it. But then she told me she couldn't go, because she had to take me. It gave me an understanding that my mom, she has dark thoughts, she is not a goddess that can find anything, do anything, be amazing all the time. She's human, but most importantly, she fucking loves me enough to stay. Listen to me one more time. SHE FUCKING LOVES ME ENOUGH TO STAY.

You're enough, she may get angry and upset with you, but she LOVE YOU ENOUGH TO STAY. You're her child, her everything in the world. Go to her, and just... cry. Don't put on a smile and try to be brave, just cry. She may not understand what's going on, but that doesn't mean you're not allowed to receive her love. You are the most important thing in her life and anyone who says you're not, can fucking disappear from your life.

Arguments between parents fucks with your head, but don't give up on hope. Even if you don't manage to talk to anyone about it, you can be free one day. You can leave one day, so don't give up hope. You feeling lazy and hopeless is a sign of depression, but now you see it's coming, don't give up. Remind yourself your not alone, remind yourself that life's more than you. You're just a small piece of the puzzle and you can't always change the puzzle yourself. And that's okay, that's how life is. But you're never to blame.

Get out of bed if you can, take a shower if you can, eat something you liked as a kid. Lots of sugar. Drink a glass of water if you can. Listen to your favorite song of your childhood, and then from now. Read a book if you like book. Watch your comfort movie if you have one. Draw for the sake of drawing. Dance for the sake of dancing. Scream if you need to, cry if you need to. You exist, your soul is thriving, larger than your body. You may feel small, you may feel alone, but you're neither. You were big enough to come and talk to me, you are loved by so many, you're never alone.

I'm doing alright actually, I am very unstable and honestly a lot of the problems you have, I have too, so this has been very emotional for me. But, I have been trying to start every day as a new day, a new day with emotions that don't have to be the same as the day before. I have been kinder to myself, to my inner child. I have been holding her hand, listening to her, making sure her needs are met. We are still working on the communication between us, but it's going very well. So, for the most part, I have been very well.

Take care love, and remember it all will be alright 💗

[seeminglyseph]

After ages of contact dermatitis I’m finally breaking and ordering a new band for my Fitbit. I don’t know why I never thought like. “Hey, maybe you should just get a fabric band since you have so much trouble with this plastic one trapping the sweat and now you have like. An eczema scar and it smells bad.” Literally so much can be solved just by having a watch band that breathes.

Something in my premises has started smelling and I have not located the source but it has made me lose patience for the fact that I’m applying a lot of like. Dermatitis cream lately. Which I have a prescription for because I have like. Dermatitis eczema. Or contact dermatitis or whatever they’re similar things. I have both. And there’s a steroid cream that treats both. That I have to be very careful about. Because it can also make the skin more delicate and prone to becoming broken and painful. Fucking. Skin.

But I have to like. Deep clean maybe to try and find the source of the scent. And that’s frustrating. I also can’t tell if I am experiencing overly sensitive smell or if my mother is like. Just. Not smelling things. I know she smells some things. But like. I fully cannot tell if I am just… extremely sensitive or if she is not smelling anything. Because sometimes I’ll be like. “This is overwhelming and revolting and needs to be cleansed” but she’ll be like “I never noticed anything???”

But also like… my mom is. Like. Old fashioned farm raised. And like. Often fully out of touch and unaware of things when like. Literally they’re right under her nose. If it’s not bothering her she doesn’t notice it, so unless it’s specifically standing out to her I guess it might smell like anything. It smells super strong to me because the migraine issue is becoming such a serious problem. But I don’t know if I’m smelling things differently or not…

It’s hard that my main in person point of reference for stuff just like. Doesn’t think about stuff in the same way as me or function in a way that is compatible so like. Half the time it’s like “am I insane or ill? Am I functioning wrong? What’s wrong with me? I am exhausted and sick trying to keep up with and meet the needs of someone who will not communicate with or listen to me in a proper meaningful way and I think I am dying???”

I hate that I have to explain to my dietician on Monday that I’ve basically failed to keep up any decent habit because I kind of forgot to eat this month. And Ensure stock has been spotty at best with the pharmacy and I’ve just been. Bad. At eating. And I’ve been stressed and in pain and probably in part because I haven’t been eating or sleeping well but it’s hard to organize food when I can’t think or sleep well, but here I am.

I can kinda eat meals but it feels like half the time food is just. Like. Wrong? The meals are all made different or they get here cold or microwave stuff I usually get had the recipe changed or I just get too sick so at some point I just wound up having cheese crackers and sausage for meals for like. Over a week at one point. And while there’s a strong theory I have POTS among friends, doctors haven’t confirmed and the table test was inconclusive, and IIH is anti-salt, and I’m supposed to cut down on cholesterol stuff which I didn’t even research.

And on top of that I have been told multiple times that I’m supposed to drink plain water over Gatorade, I don’t want to. I’ve tried a bit. I read somewhere that the piping in certain parts of Canada has a risk of lead contamination and I need to test our house but I’m not sure the best way to do that, I always heard we got the best tap water locally, but also I know it’s smelled strangely metallic lately but I don’t know if that’s exclusively me or if we got bad piping. I am so used to doubting myself that it’s second nature to not trust my instincts at this point. I want to find a decent water flavouring hydration additive that doesn’t have a bad fake sugar that fucks my stomach, and has a taste that makes me feel meh.

Plus I’m a “loves carbonation” autist but not carbonated water because it’s extremely bitter. That’s a taste I have not acquired, and don’t have the patience to work up to. If it can’t be carbonated it can it at least be a good sweet and sour like a good lemonade or cranberry juice. I fully get why alcoholics choose cranberry juice when they quit, that motherfucker’s got a flavour.