#and ive forgotten(did I ever learn) how to talk to people and express myself

[chradi]

Needing to potentially make a big decision that would save me A Lot of heartache while also still hurting myself and others in the process waughuaghough.

I guess at some point, you gotta balance the pros and the cons and realise that not many pros can balance out “borderline heart palpitations and entire ruined days multiple times a month”

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

Remember Me (4/???)

I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH. Honestly I lost a lot of motivation to write after Bloodbound because PB has greatly decreased in the quality of their books. I am still trying to find the time and motivation to write and am forcing myself to finish my series at the very least but if I am being completely honest I feel like the Kamilah fandom has died, PB’s books mostly suck and I don’t even really play choices anymore. Who knows, I’m trying to learn to write the code for episode so maybe I’ll start posting my own stories and choices on that platform with better plot, smut and less diamond focus since it would be a hobby. This chapter is ASS and mostly just moves the plot along - so if you want action I would wait for a different series or later chapter - okay bye!

Pairing: Adrian x MC x Kamilah (Amy)

Tags: I paused the tag list since it’s been so fucking long but if you want a tag please let me know because I’m pretty sure most people think this series died with me :)

Words: ~1500 (Short because I needed to finish a chapter to motivate me to finish the next)

Kamilah took a deep breath as she knelt on the floor beside Adrian, carefully wrapping her arms around her brother, her heart sinking with every sob that left his lips. She didn’t speak, she knew her words would come off too harshly and she couldn’t blame Adrian for feeling that way, after all she knew how much he loved Amy. 

“Adrian, I’m sorry. I...I truly don’t know what to say.” As their eyes met Kamilah saw exactly how devastated he was, and even in her two thousand years of life, she had never been in his situation. 

“Kamilah, do you think she’ll...well she says we’re just friends but do you think she’ll fall in love with me again?” His lips trembled, his hands shaking and his eyes glistened with tears. 

“I don’t know. As much as I believe love is a silly mortal affair, and a simple chemical reaction, it can’t be forced but I’m sure if you just be yourself and do your best to be her friend that any romantic feelings will follow.” Kamilah moved away as Adrian calmed himself, both of them passing a nod of agreement as he wiped his face clean with tissues. 

“Your wisdom has always guided me well Kamilah.” 

“I suppose that is two thousand sixty three years of experience speaking.” 

“Heh, I guess my two hundred years don’t nearly compare...” 

“You’re still a simple child in my eyes, I just took a liking to you.”

“Well, thank you Kamilah. It seems I owe you quite a bit.”

They both stood from the floor and took seats on Adrian’s office couch, Kamilah folding her legs and crossing her arms and Adrian crossing his ankles and folding his arms. 

“We’re practically siblings - you don’t owe me anything. Just try to take care of yourself and well...don’t expect anything from Amy. I’m sure this is difficult for her, difficult is an understatement. I can’t imagine what she’s experiencing.”

“Maybe I’ve been too selfish Kamilah...I’ve been thinking more about what I want from her instead of focusing on if she’s okay or what she wants.” 

“Sometimes it’s alright to be selfish, and I can understand why you felt that way but you are correct, we need to focus on what Amy wants now, not what she wanted before the accident.”

“You’re absolutely right. I can only hope for the best...I just really...I really wanted...I believed she was the one.” 

“I know you did. I wanted her to be the one for you as well, I still hope she comes back to you Adrian.”

“Me too.” 

Adrian’s phone buzzed at the same time Kamilah’s did, Lily having texted both of them to rendezvous with her and Jax at Amy’s old apartment to talk about the recent events. 

“We should go, but do you feel okay?” Kamilah patted Adrian’s shoulder as they both stood from the couch.

“Yes I think so.” They hurried to the elevator and got into Adrian’s black Mercedes as they navigated towards Lily’s apartment. Once they arrived Lily greeted them before guiding them up to the apartment where Jax waited on the couch with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys...how ya doin?” His words were slurred and he was obviously under the influence to a decent extent. 

“Tell me you have something other than beer Lily.” Kamilah grimaced as Jax took another swig of the beer. She had no problem with beer but she hated that brand and would rather remain sober than allow herself to drink that brand. 

“Yeah, vodka or wine?”

“Vodka.” Kamilah spoke without hesitation while Adrian grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat next to Jax on the couch. Lily began to pour Kamilah a shot, and once the glass was full Kamilah took the bottle from her and took two large gulps before sitting on the leather chair and holding the bottle with one hand. 

“So we’re here to get drunk? I thought we were supposed to talk about Amy?” Kamilah’s voice broke the deathly silence that filled the room. Adrian leaned in the door before removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and, grabbing three bottles of the cheap beer and sinking into the recliner opposite of Lily and Jax. 

“I didn’t want to drink...well grieve...alone. I mean I can’t do this with Amy anymore...well I could but it wouldn’t be the same... and I have my friend back but it’s really just...it’s not the same. I don’t know I just didn’t...you can leave if you want but I didn’t want to grieve alone…” Lily began to sob, her tears falling into her glass of wine as Jax and Adrian frowned. Kamilah held her stoic expression, but even the alcohol could not erase the ache she felt in her chest.

“I see, well I guess we all process grief differently…” Kamilah spoke calmly, but deep down she felt her own sense of grief. As she gazed around she realized how messy Jax’s hair and clothes were, and how exhausted and drained Lily was. “You guys look a mess…”

“Thanks Kamilah.” Jax drunkenly snickered and Lily sniffled. Adrian remained quiet, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand before switching to the other glass and downing it just as quickly. 

“Does this not fucking hurt you?” Lily drunkenly scolded as Kamilah flinched ever so slightly. None of them had ever heard Lily so fragile, so devastated. She had every reason to be - she had lost her best friend - even though Amy had survived the accident, the memories were all gone and everything they had once shared was gone. 

“It...does...I was just remarking on-”

“I don’t care about your remarks, at least not now. Don’t you fucking get it? I lost my fucking best friend and I have to watch her find everything again! Do you know how that fucking feels Kamilah? I’m sure you do from all your time as a vampire, but please, for the love of god and for the sake of our friendship just shut the fuck up. I can’t handle this.” Lily’s hand gripped on her bottle as it shattered against her palm, the beer pouring onto the tile floor and seeping into the edges of the carpet. 

“I...apologize Lily…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Everything is fine I guess. I don’t know I just...I’m not coping well...and I feel guilty for saying that because Amy has it the hardest of us all and yet here I am getting wasted to be in her position - to forget everything while also being the person who put her in this position in the first fucking place. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same as it was before…”

“Maybe that’s for the best…” Adrian finally joined the conversation. Kamilah, Lily and Jax turned to face him as he swirled the bottle around in his hand - his brown eyes shiny from the tears that had built up. “...we all lost someone...Amy was a different person to each of us...but maybe we have to lose that person for some reason…”

“Adrian, do not try to give me that ‘it’s for the best’ bullshit.” Lily took a deep breath as Adrian shrugged. 

“I’m not. I guess it’s just the alcohol talking, but I was going to propose to Amy that night and maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t have, or maybe the world is punishing me for my sins...but fuck all of that...it’s...it’s a forgotten memory and we need to forget just like Amy...”  

---------------- Amy’s POV ------------------

It was a weird feeling that I couldn’t describe. Having people who seemed like strangers tell me all about the things we’ve done together gave me such comfort and anxiety at the same time. I wanted to believe and trust each of them but at the same time, it would be so easy to lie about it. Maybe I’m just being paranoid about the situation - nobody would really benefit from creating an elaborate story just to mess with my mind. 

God this IV really stings...and now that I’m thinking about it, my ribs really hurt too. I should call the doctor or nurse but it’s nearly midnight. I mean it’s their job but they’re humans and I don’t want to be that super needy patient…

At least that Lily girl seems genuine, I can see why I was her best friend. I appreciate her sincerity more than I can verbalize to her. I’m still wary of Jax though - that man looks like he could kill in an instant and I don’t want to get on his bad side. I’m glad they’re friends with each other though - they seem to get along really well and...Adrian. Poor bastard. I broke his heart. I broke his heart and I can’t even help it. How am I supposed to even really process that whole fucking mess. He’s so sweet and gentle and genuine and I can’t even reciprocate it back to him...but maybe with time I could…? But Kamilah...she makes my heart skip a beat too...but she’s so unlike anyone I’ve even taken interest in - callous and stoic most of the time with very few soft spots. It wouldn’t be any type of understatement to claim my heart is as confused as my head. 

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (17/?) - Thomas Shelby

Summary: Father and reader are reunited, Reader faces her past and future at once. (Im getting better kind of?) 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader (Romantic)

Warning: Unhealthy father and daughter relationship.

A/N: This chapter took oh so long but I’m glad that we get to see this relationship between Father and Daughter in this one. Also i named the father George so sorry if you know someone named George. Comments and feedback is always appreciated and as always have a good night and take care of yourselves. 

Italics = flashback

George (L/N), your father was a man that everyone feared. You knew this ever since you were a little girl. You saw the air he prided himself with, the way people parted like the red sea whenever he walked, the way no one would look him in his eye. You used to worship the ground he walked on. You would cry on to your mother why you couldn’t spend more time with the man, she would give you a look that you didn’t understand then. She was horrified when George did decide to take you for a tour of his ‘office.’ She could do nothing but watch you bounce happily away on your father hand. You still remember the day.

 “You can’t take her, not there.” Your mother cried to him

 “Shes gonna need to learn sooner or later.”

 “Then later!” She yelled.

 He ignores her cries as he drags you along. You had a big smile at finally getting time with your father. You didn’t understand why she was against this.

The walk was brisk, you even stopped for a treat. You ended up jumping from one place to another. Your father talking to people, shaking their hands. You noticed how they looked to him like a leader. So you asked.

 “Im a boss honey,” He answered, “You will be too one day. You’ll help me run all this.”

 “Really?” you said

 “You just gotta be tough. Can you do that?”

 You nodded pulling off your toughest face. The next place he leads you is some old train tracks that aren’t used anymore. A group of men stand around in a circle. All of them waiting for him.

 “You brought a kid to this?” One of them says.

 “You got a problem with that?” George says cocking his gun you didn’t realize he had.

 The man shakes his head no and pints where the rest of them gather, “They got him over there.”

Your father no longer holds your hand as he walks ahead of you. You follow slowly. You can see the man in the middle of the circle. Looking worn down and beaten. Your father stands ahead of him, he plays with gun in the air. He talks words you block out. You just watch the man as is eyes loosely follow your father. He cries uncontrollable begging for his life. You see his body fall before you hear the gun. You don’t cry, you don’t say a word. Your father pats you on the head and says you did good.

 Soon he took you everywhere and anywhere, spending more time with him less with your mother. You became a different person as you became used to the violence. You saw different side of your father more than once but he still treated you like a good. He wanted you prepared for anything and you just wanted to prove that you could be. So learning wasn’t an issue and neither was the perfection you set yourself up for. You became a mini version of him, you didn’t mind unlike your mother who was just horrified. She fought for you to stay in school when he would convince you to leave. She wanted to to date, have a normal job. But you wouldn’t listen to her. You father was your hero at the time you saw nothing wrong with anything that was happening.

 “Your tainting her. Its not good for her to be around this stuff.”

 You listen from atop of the stairs, now only seventeen.

 “Son or daughter, my child is gonna learn the business and learn it right!” He yelled

 “Then ill tell the police, everything I know. Ill take her away or- or”

 “Are you threatening me?”

 “I want my daughter back! You’re running her.”

 “She’s growing up, deal with it.” He turns away from her, gives her the side eye before walking out. You go to sleep, hoping for them to forgive and forget.

 You wake in the middle of night for a glass of water when you found your mother dead. You cry for the first time over a dead body. Holding your mothers hand close to her face, hoping for  a reaction. Your father walks in and pauses. You can see through your lashes that his hands were stained red. You don’t say anything. He brings  out two shovels and hands one to you. George tells you nothing more but to dig in the backyard.

 You don’t. He scolds you for not listening, for not working faster. He digs it himself. He doesn’t look you in the eye as you watch his bury dirt on top of your mother. You share a tea later in the night. You just watch the inside of your cup, the steam rising up. He drinks his greedily, eating cookies as if it’s a regular Sunday morning.

That’s when your relationship changed. You begun to bicker and challenge everything he said or did. You couldn’t understand why he would do that. Or how he even could. You didn’t know what you could do, so you held the emotions in for a long time. Growing distant with your father. He confronts you on your behavior and you no longer hokd your tounge with him.

 “You killed her. Why?”

 “You wouldn’t understand.”

 “I had to bury her, do you know what that was like?”

 “In this business you’ll have to bury a lot more like her.”

 “she had nothing to do with it.” You state.

 He looks at your small figure, your eyes welling up with tears. “Don’t cry.”

 “Why did you do it? Why did you kill my mother?” You press the issue your voice growing louder wanting , needingthe answer. Wanting all this to make sense.

 “Why does it matter? So you can tell the whole city?” He turns on you quick.

 “What if I did, does that scare you?”

 “Watch your mouth girl.”

 “Is that why you killed my mother? Cause she didn’t watch her mouth.” He gets up quickly punching a hole in the wall near your face. You stay still as tears fall from you eyes slowly.

 No longer were the two of you a pair. The father daughter duo was dead. He iced you of the business. Meeting happening without you, transactions with your knowledge. He treated you like a stranger he shared a house with. But every chance you got when you would see him. You questioned him, wanted him to feel bad. No answer at this point would satisfy you, you know that. But you hoped the guilt would eat at his soul for the rest of time. You were there to remind him. And he didn’t like that.

It was the day before you turned eighteen, when you were surprised with a knock on the door. The men claimed to be doctors as they grabbed you by the wrist, throwing you in their car, declaring you insane. You didn’t understand what was happening and that only made them laugh sealing their opinion on what state your mind was as you panicked. The doctors told you nothing but that your father had expressed concerns over your health. And that he was doing this for your own good. Being there made you feel insane but you tried your best to repeal the order to get out. But the doctors were well played off, some of the nurses being Georges goons, no one would let you out unless he said so. Until Tommy Shelby came in, of course you were finally free from that cage.

 So now you stand in front of this man, you had idolized and called father. A man who now is only a murderer, a thief, a low life, your enemy. You clench your jaw as he opens his arms to you. The wrinkles on Georges face crease as he smiles. He’s older in the face and hold a cane in his hand.

 “What? No hug?”

 “Fuck off.”

 “What a lovely choice of words. Im glad to see your okay. I meant to visit…” You glare at him, “but I’ve been busy. Its good to finally find you.”

 “You don’t have to play dumb. How long have you been following me. Ive noticed since a month ago.”

 “Hmm you’re slacking. Its been longer than that. You really think I would let my daughter be out and about, not knowing shes safe.”

 “I had hoped the rumors of your death were true. Guess I hoped too much.”

 “Ah yes your little hit on me. Didn’t go as planned did it.” He glances over at the smoke floating in the town miles from us, “Your work I assume.”

 “Did you do that to Trinity?”

 “It wasn’t anything personal. No need to throw a tantrum.”

 You huff and hold yourself back from stabbing right where he stood. “You had no right-“

 George interrupts you, “After the stunt you pulled. Asking Thomas Shelby to kill me in exchange you tell him a few locations. You know what he did when he found me. He shook my hand. The man helps me fake my death, im off to America. Can you guess where?”

 “New York.”

 “That’s right and its bigger and its booming, honey. And here you are sleeping with a man who lies to you, who is no different than me or the other men ive killed or hurt.”

 “Im not-not” You blush at the accusation your father throws to you. You had forgotten for a second how Tommy Shelby was involved in this. You remember asking him and never getting a clear answer. Especially when you were so unsure with what was going on, you should have pressed more. Not been so easy to trust him. You could have been more prepared for this, left the country sooner.

 “Listen, I’m just here to help you-“

 “By locking me up calling me crazy, or was it when you killed my mother, or had me followed or when you killed my friend.”

 “I understand your mad. But honey we are better as a team than not. Remember me and you fighting the world together.” He uses a funny light hearted voice. One that he would use only to manipulate you when you were younger.

 “What do you want from me?”

 He sighs, “I need a peace treaty. And the family’s got this son.-“

 You scoff, “Are you kidding me?”

 “its what best for our family. And honestly you have no choice in the matter. Ill drag you there myself if I have to.”

 “I’d like to see you try.” You pull put your knife and hold it out in attack position.

 “You’re gonna kill me, your old man,” He uses a mockingly sad voice before erupting into a mad laughter, “You might as well do it now cause you wouldn’t want me as your enemy.”

 “I think it might be too late for that.”  You press the knife against your own throat, pressing hard against your skin. You can feel a trickle of warm blood run down. Now George finally panics.

 “Hey, Hey! Don’t do that!” He yells.

 “Walk out of here and don’t turn back.  Now! “You command.

 Your father follows your orders because you knew it as well as he that in this game you were now an important chess piece. And he wouldn’t have no use with a dead bride.

 “I’ll be seeing you very soon.” He says as he walks further and further away. You watch until his figure is nothing more than a blur. That’s when you finally release the grip on your knife.

You sit down on the ground and quietly sob into your hands. You don’t know the time when you finally stop but its still night and still no train. You hear the sound of a lighter flicking on. You curse under your breath as you get up, ready to die tonight if it meant not being in your fathers plan.

 “You are really testing my patience tonight.” You say turning around. Only it wasn’t your father standing there.

 “Cigarette? You look like you could use one.” The deep voice says. And there you are, Face to face once again with Thomas Shelby.

[lilyshadowwriter]

Augustus’ Story Summarized

As there’s a story summary for Gemma, I figured I’d go ahead and write one for Augustus too, so here’s what’s happened up to this point:

While Augustus and Gemma are twins and two of the closest people you’ll meet, they are also in many ways opposites. Whereas Gemma is known for her cool logic and has difficulties putting herself in other people’s shoes, Augustus is all about the heart- both empathetic and compassionate. They do, however, share a tendency to be introspective and introverted, so rarely will you see either of them surrounded by friends or frequenting large gatherings.

Augustus has a much easier time talking to people and has several casual friends, but rarely does he let people into his own private world. He finds it difficult to completely let down his guard, which is why it was so significant when he met someone he was willing to let go for completely. That person, of course, was Isaac Santiago Taveras.

The two met when they were 15 (So, What Are We Now Pt. 1 and Pt. 2) and had an instant connection despite outwardly seeming like two very different people. Isaac was athletic, cool, and popular, whereas Augustus stuck mostly to his sister and was more interested in art and doing well in school, but it didn’t seem to matter because they each thought of one another as if they’d hung the moon. They spent all of their time with one another, but were always unsure if the other felt the same for them- whether they were seen as simply a good friend, or whether they too, felt something more.

This confusion was made even worse by the fact that Isaac wasn’t out- not even his parents knew that he was gay and because of events that happened when he was quite young, he was terrified of them finding out- terrified of anyone finding out. After a messy debacle in which Isaac’s best friend Elena kissed Isaac in the middle of the school hallway and Augustus saw though, he chased after a hurt Augustus and told him everything.

The two shared a sort of secret, shy, and “unofficial” relationship afterward, sneaking glances, fleeting touches, and even surprise ambush hugs, haha. It was precious, and it was good, and despite the need to hide, they were happy simply being with one another.

This all changed quickly though after one fateful afternoon, when under the orange hues of the setting sun, Augustus attempted to kiss Isaac. Isaac panicked and pulled away, suddenly pointing out some random turtle on the bank. Augustus was thrown off and embarrassed, but as he tried to fumble through an apology Isaac received a call from his parents that he needed to come home immediately...and he left, but not before promising Augustus that he didn’t do anything wrong. Augustus lets him go, still embarrassed, but hopeful at least that he didn’t mess things up between them.

It turns out to be the last time they ever spoke. 

Isaac moves away and never speaks to him again, save for some generic text message informing him that he was moving out of state and that he didn’t think he would be able to keep in contact with him anymore. Isaac’s phone gets disconnected, any emails sent to him get bounced back undeliverable, and no one ever hears from him again.

It leaves Augustus devastated because he loved him. It leaves Augustus devastated because it leaves him with the conclusion that despite everything, Isaac had clearly never felt the same as him.

Years later and Augustus had never really dated anyone. There were some half-hearted attempts, a mindless first kiss from a guy who’d kissed him at his junior prom who he’d had to awkwardly turn down, and that was about it. He never thought much about it though, simply chalking it up to having not found anyone he particularly liked.

This changed his sophomore year of college though (A&G I) when a certain purple-haired young man, Patrick O’ Doherty, manages to get through to Gus’ heart after literal months of failed and awkward exchanges that usually left Augustus perplexed and confused, lol. Eventually though, Augustus realizes that maybe he liked Patrick too, and so he gives him a chance, surprising Patrick with a sudden kiss in the middle of the campus grounds.

Ever since, they’ve had a rather sweet and happy relationship, often spending time with one another and never failing to make the other smile. However, even within its sweetness it’s also remained quite superficial, with Augustus clearly keeping Patrick at arm’s length for unknown reasons, and Patrick too nervous to rock the boat and risk losing him.

This begins to cause issues for them, particularly as Augustus’ worries grow about his twin sister, Gemma, who more and more seems to struggle to get through the days. It makes him feel like he’s failing, like he’s wholly lacking, because no matter how hard he tries to stop it, he keeps seeing Gemma slip. Augustus keeps this to himself though, never sharing his fears and worries with Patrick.

Then, during his junior year, Augustus bumps into someone he never thought he’d see again: Isaac (A&G II). It sucks, abruptly bringing back everything Augustus thought he’d forgotten years ago. He honestly tries to forget this brief encounter, but then Augustus sees him again (A&G III) and this time instead of cutting the conversation short and running off, Isaac insists that they talk. Augustus doesn’t want to hear anything that he has to say, but eventually gives in and learns the truth of what happened all those years ago.

The truth was, Isaac did feel the same for him. The truth was, Isaac did want that kiss, but despite wanting it, panicked when the moment came, not as ready as he thought he’d been. The truth was, that night, Isaac was so frustrated with hiding that he came out to his parents, and it went worse than he could have imagined. They accused him of ridiculous shit like being ‘tempted by the devil’ and threatened to kick him out of the house, and when Isaac bit back that he’d just go to Augustus’ place, they concluded that Augustus was the problem, and moved the whole family away. 

They took his phone after he snuck a message to Augustus and his friends, they took his computer, they had him on a 24/7 lock down and they told him if he ever spoke to Augustus again, that would be it. And Isaac, hundreds of miles from anyone he knew, cut off the world, and scared out of his mind, gave in. 

It would be another 3 years before Isaac confronted his parents again, and this time firmly stated that they could either accept him as he was, or they would never see him again. He was 18 then and had had enough. His parents shocked him by asking him to stay and promising to try and do better, but it’s been a rocky process.

Augustus feels awful for what Isaac went through. He forgives him, much to Isaac’s surprise. He still hates what happened, but doesn’t blame him. He was 15 and it was an impossible situation he never should have had to go through. They part on awkward, but mostly good terms. They agree to maybe try to be friends again.

A&G IV Pt. 1 finds Augustus quite shaken by all he’d learned, and annoyed with himself for being shaken in the first place. It was all in the past, after all. Why should it have mattered anymore? It didn’t, and yet Augustus can’t stop thinking about it.

That’s when he finds out that Gemma is doing worse than ever, and discovers her practically unresponsive with a knocked over bottle of sleeping pills lying on her bedside table. He panics, and even after he discovers that she’d only taken a few and that she was fine, just tired, he can’t get that image out of his head. He can’t rid himself of the horror he’d felt when he’d thought he’d lost her. He can’t forget Gemma’s tearful, mumbled words to him as he tried to comfort her, “I don’t want to kill myself, but sometimes I do wish that I’d never existed.”

It has Augustus throwing up because of the stress and feeling worse than ever, but it’s then that Isaac happens to text him some light-hearted, silly thing. Augustus texts him a thanks for the laugh and Isaac asks what happened. He debates not saying anything, but reveals he had a shit morning and that he can’t get it out of his head. To his displeasure, Isaac calls him, but they end up talking and little by little Augustus shares with him what happened. Afterward, he feels a bit better, maybe even happy that he got to talk to Isaac, that maybe they really could be friends again and that could be a good thing.

When he later admits to Gemma that he’s been talking to Isaac though, his sister has a negative reaction, shaking some of his previous confidence. She points out that Isaac probably could have done more to reach out to him despite his situation, and Augustus counters that Isaac feared losing his family and that the risk was too great. Gemma reluctantly relents, but still expresses some concerns, worrying that Isaac might hurt him again. Augustus reveals that he’s really missed Isaac, and that he wants to give him a chance again- that they would only be trying to be friends, after all. Gemma lets it go, but not without advising that Augustus should reflect on why this meant so much to him.

Later, when Augustus is talking to Patrick and on his way to having lunch with him, Isaac texts him a simple follow-up and asks how he’s doing and Augustus replies that he’s fine now and that he’ll talk to him later. It’s a rather nothing exchange to Augustus, but Patrick happens to see the texts and asks him what happened. Augustus evades, giving a general answer about Isaac happening to catch him after something occurred that morning, but that it was all fine now and that’s why he hadn’t mentioned it.

To his surprise, Patrick abruptly announces that he forgot he needed to go to work early that day and ducks out of their lunch date, but before he goes, asks Augustus if he’ll come over to his place after his shift. Patrick assures him that it’s nothing bad, but that he has something important to talk to him about. Augustus has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but agrees...

...and that’s where we catch up to him now- sitting on Patrick’s doorstep and wondering what it is that he wants to say......

[studentlulu]

Disclaimer: Everything that I have written about is completely true and happened to me within the 2017-2018 year.  I wrote all of this as not only a way of coping with what has happened to me, but to come to terms with and helping me understand the difficulties and challenges I went through in the past two years.  I did not do this because I sought attention or for any other self-serving narcissistic purposes.  If you have read through this completely and have any questions for me or want to learn more, please feel free to personally message me and I will answer your questions to the best of my ability.  In addition, after you have read this through, if you feel like commenting, please leave only positive comments.  Please refrain from leaving any negative comments.

           My journey to college graduation has been a long and difficult one, full of twists, turns, and bumps along the way.  I entered into the University of California Irvine (UCI) as a Freshman in Sept. 2014 and fully intended to finish in Jun. 2018.  That would have been the plan if things had worked out perfectly well.  However, as we all know, things never go perfectly well, especially not with life.

           Sure enough, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer in spring during my junior year in 2017.  It was devastating news beyond comprehension.  I was so scared.  I was only 20! There were so much things I wanted to do!  I want to explore the world and I even planned to study abroad in Singapore that year!  I want to eat different cuisines from around the world! I want to do so much more! Now with this news, all of this has abruptly stopped!  Everything became dire uncertainty.  What do I do?  Do I have tomorrow?  How long? How do I tell everyone?  Who do I tell?  Most of all, how do I cope?  My mind went ballistic!  My family was by my side when I found out, and we promised that we would get through this together.

           We discussed treatment options with my doctors and decided that I should go through one round of chemo, surgery, recovery, and then one final round of chemo.  Each chemo round was four appointments and would require me to come to UCSF Medical Center.  Due to the rigorous treatment plan, it was decided that I would have to postpone school till I finished treatment and recovery.  It was a very difficult decision, but it was the only way to deal with the condition.  So, I contacted the Bio Sci School of Affairs Office and told them about my predicament, and requested to postpone my education and enrollment until further notice. Thankfully, they were quite understanding and informed me that they would readmit me back to school whenever I was ready.

           Chemotherapy left me tired, nauseous, moody, and grumpy. It also left me very cold-sensitive and UV-sensitive.  Starting with my second infusion of chemotherapy, my hair fell out.  I slowly became bald and I hated my look.  I loathed the fact of losing my stomach even more!  I love food! Without my stomach, how can I eat? What can I eat?  How can I go to school or go on with life without my stomach?  Of course, not to mention the unimaginable constant need of going to toilet!  After the pre-surgery chemo was done, I then had the surgery to remove my stomach in early October 2017.  I was hospitalized for more than two weeks for that procedure.  Recovery from surgery was extremely difficult.  I was not allowed to eat what I wanted nor as much.  I had to mentally force myself to ignore my hunger feelings as my brain needed time to adjust to the fact that there is no stomach to store food.  I had to eat ¼ the portion of a normal adult meal.  This proved to be arduous because I love food and love to eat.  In fact, when I was healthy, I could eat as many portions as I wanted and sometimes, I would finish others’ leftovers.  Wasting food is a crime, I believed that.  In addition, in Chinese culture, it was considered respectful and a sign of appreciation to be able to eat as many portions as you could.  I couldn’t do that anymore with a smaller stomach size. What if others who did not know about my condition became misinformed and thought I was eating less and being disrespectful?  With this new body, I totally resented the fact that I could no longer eat as much because I equated it as I would no longer able to enjoy food!  Recovery was very painful; and I hated the “heathy” but very bland food that I had to eat.  What is there to look forward to when I could not even enjoy the most basic thing in life: eating?  Life seemed bleaker at every moment passed.  Only the constant encouragements from parents and others kept me going, but barely without passion.

           Another chemotherapy soon went underway after surgery. This time around, my physical reactions were worse, and my mental stage sunk even lower.  I developed dry heaving.  I could not stop scratching my skin, I was extremely tired and fatigued, sometimes unwilling to leave the bed, and there were times I did not want to take in or even eat food because the mere sight of it made me ill.  Then, on Dec. 19, 2017, during what was supposed to be my second fusion of chemotherapy during my final round of chemo regiment, something went terribly wrong.  I went into anaphylactic shock due to negative reactions to chemotherapy.  I could hear my younger brother (chemo treatment center only allowed one relative staying with patient) franticly calling me, and I could barely hear my nurse called out “Code Blue” before I lost consciousness on the treatment chair!  When I faintly regained my consciousness, I felt heavy stuff on my chest.  I believed that it must had been my unconscious will to live that kept me alive.  Or perhaps the prayers from parents and my families had kept me alive.  Or perhaps it was not my time to die yet.

           I was extremely fortunate that I was under the care of the world-class doctors, nurses, and other medical professions at UCSF Medical Center, because they revived and saved me.  I woke up in the emergency unit after 4:30 pm with my parents on my bedside.  I had been out for at least six hours.  I wound up staying in the hospital for observations and treatments for two days. IV chemo treatment was discontinued after that; and the doctors prescribe another form of chemo treatment for me.

           I went back to school after completing treatment during spring break in April 2018.  I wanted to go back to school so badly for a change of venue and for a more “hopeful” environment.  A familiar place where I thought I had better control of life.  After all, I had been in a school environment all my life.  Ironically, as I started back to school, it was ending for many others.  As everyone else was enjoying their spring breaks, I was slowly readjusting back to school.  It felt weird to be returning to school towards the end of the quarter.  School was so quite.  I got new roommates who were very friendly though.  For that, I was grateful for their kindness.  

           I found it very hard to stay off social media and see everyone else’s progress.  I was supposed to be part of the graduating class of 2018 that quarter, but I couldn’t.  Facebook was the worst place because many of my classmates and friends were posting their graduation pictures.  I would read their posts or look them over and I would feel terribly inadequate afterwards because I was not to part of that graduating class which I had set my heart and my mind to be a part of.  I felt like a big failure.  I failed! That was the only two words that occupied my mind.  I fell into darkness.

           To prevent myself from feeling worse I tried my best to stay as far away social media as I could.  I would call and text my parents, often in tears, asking whether I could have done better or been better to graduate on time like everyone else. They would often reassure me that I had (a) done my very best, (b) that everyone finishes college at their own pace, (c) there’s no rule saying that I had to finish college in four years, (d) that I went through something extraordinary that most people could not comprehend, and (e) that I could reach out to medical professions or my trusted relatives or friends to seek their opinions.  To my parents, I stood up to cancer and I won!  Such accomplishment and my life are worth every bit of celebration!  I should be very proud of what I went through and had achieved.  Sometimes their comforts worked and made me feel better; but more often they did not because I felt that my parents were not me and could never understand what I had gone through.  Talking to my therapist and sometimes my cousin D (who was also a licensed therapist) temporarily helped me to sort through my feelings, as it seemed to be a safe place to open up and freely express myself emotionally.  

           However, no matter what, I still had to live with my new physical form.  I hated this new me: missing organ, patched up body, and no amount of time would ever restore it!    

           Summer rolled in.  It was much worse for me than spring.  During the summer I was trying to find employment while living on my own. The long periods of unemployment dragged me down to spiral back into the same emotional depression I faced in spring. I started to question my self-worth and believed that because I did not finish school on time, I was stuck here as a failure, forced to finish school late, or attempted to finish school now, while my classmates graduated and moved on with their lives.  I was stuck in a negative emotional spiral; and the worst part of it was that it was self-inflicted.  At that time, I didn’t see it, and couldn’t get myself out of it. It was a negative self-hatred cycle, one that I found comforting and validating in its own twisted sort of way because it was the one thing that was being truthful to me in my life.  I felt that everyone else, including my mom, stepdad, cousins, and friends, knew nothing about what I had gone through personally.  I felt like they did not truly mean what they said about being proud of me and loving me. Even worse, I had forgotten what a champion and fighter I had felt like completing chemo and cancer treatments. What I had gone through no longer felt like an accomplishment worth celebrating, but a laborious task that anyone could have done or gone through.  It was no longer impressive.  Instead of saying to myself, You went through something terrible and came out of it a stronger person, I found myself saying instead, So what you went through chemotherapy and finished your cancer treatment? Thousands of people do that every day. You’re nothing special.  YOU’RE not special but a failure!

           The negative self-hate caused me to cut off contact with loved ones, even my immediate family.  My mother tried very hard to keep contacting me and was concerned for my well-being.  Once, when she called me to ask me why I hadn’t spoken to her in a long time, I finally managed to choke out, “I don’t want to talk to you because I’m angry and I hate myself, mommy.  I hate myself and want to end it!  I don’t want to talk to you about it or let you know.  You would never understand!”  My mother would respond, “Your feelings are always yours and no one can truly feel exactly.  However, please note that you are loved and not alone.  We are here for you, always!  Just let anyone know that you are around or reach out to anyone you trust. That’s okay.  You had been so brave to go through so much in your young life. Every bit of your life is worth in solid gold!”  Of course, I could not listen to her. I cut her off and took her out of my contacts. That’s how deep I was in my own dark world!  Without me knowing it, Mom never gave up on me and had clever ways to send encouraging words to me.  Today, in my clear conscience, I cannot imagine the amount of anguish my mother must had in hearing her own daughter said she hated herself.  

           I ceased having social interactions with others because I did not want to be around others who, I saw and viewed, as not supporting me and my thoughts.  The few times I did speak with others I sometimes got into emotional outbursts. I wound up treating my mom and others as emotional punching bags, venting out my angers or more negative emotions on them.  At times, I would even text them to tell them that I found life unbearable and not worth living, and that I wanted to end my life.  My behaviors were so reckless but I was not in the right mindset to realize them. I was in such a deep depression stage and only focusing on all the terrible things.  I learned later that my suicidal threats made my mother go into emotional breakdowns and become physically ill.  God, what hell I had put my mom through!  I regret such awful behaviors!  If only I knew what I know now.  I am sorry.

           What finally pulled me out of that negative spiral for good was my witness in person to my mom’s unconditional love.  In September 2018, I came home for my follow-up doctors’ appointments.  My parents sat me down and had a heart-to-heart talk with me.  We talked about things and addressed my negative spiraling emotions.  My mother looked me in the eye and told me that she could not believe what I had said or even considered giving up on living.  “Life is precious,” she said, “please take good care of it, and always carry a grateful heart!”   Especially since my dad went through the same thing and so much worse, yet he never gave up and fought to the end.  He was a true fighter.  In addition, my mother’s boss has a daughter, in my age, who went through the same thing, but she never gave up.  In fact, she was now in Africa doing volunteer work. As we talked, I learned of the efforts my mom and stepdad made behind the scenes to keep me well.  I could see and feel mom’s passions for life and for me as she held back her tears.  I saw for the first time in person how my actions and words had deeply hurt her.  I could see how much my life meant to her, and I will always be precious to her and a part of her.  I could see how I had misunderstood my parents.  My struggles were their struggles, plus much more.  I’m a survivor and indeed I should be proud of it!  

           I decided that it was time to change.  I changed how I saw things and decided that I would only focusing on positive thoughts instead.  I changed my perceptions of my new body.  I shifted my focus on the bad things happened to me to how I can use my story to inspire others.  I changed my mindset about future outlook of my life.  God has given me many chances to live, that’s got to mean something.  I am intended to find my purpose in life. I will keep trying my best and never give up.  

It’s been two years since the initial diagnosis and over a year since I finished treatment.  I haven’t shared my story publicly until now because of many reasons, but mostly fear of criticism from others.  However, it is my life, and it is my story.  As time passes, I have gained more confidence and strength in myself. More importantly, I am here today because I have so many giants standing behind and supporting me.  I owe it to them, all of those unsung heroes, to share my story as an upcoming UCI Class of 2019 graduate.  And no, I did not graduate late, I graduated just right on time.

Acknowledgement and Thanks: I would like to thank my mom, stepdad, brother, and both sides of my family for their love and support during the difficult times in my life.  I would also like to thank Dr. Korn, Dr. Nakakura, Ms. Renee Wang, Nurse Lana Taran, Dr. Jaime Cohen, and the rest of the medical teams and staff at UCSF Mission Bay Hospital.  You are literally my life-savers!  At UCI, I would like to thank the Bio Sci Student Affairs Office for being very understanding of my situation, allowing me to take time off to recover, and allowing me to re-enroll again after I regained my health.  Thanks to Mr. Cheng Ko at the DSC Office for registering me with important resources on campus, as well as helping me get reacquainted and readjusted with school after I returned.  Thanks to Ms. Sheena Danesh for helping me find important resources to use when I first got diagnosed, such as the DSC, and when I returned to school. Also, thank you for helping me with the multiple doctors’ appointments that I had to attend.  I would also like to thank Ms. Adelí Duron and Jane Killer at the VSC for their support and understanding, as well as answering any questions I had about financial aid.  I would also like to thank Dr. Eldridge and the UCI Counseling Center for seeing me for the past two years since my diagnosis and upon return from treatments.  Thank you for providing me with a safe and secure place for opening up emotionally and tools to deal with my stress.  Finally, to the countless unnamed friends, people, and others along the way who helped me or motivated me along the way.  I could not have gone through this alone.  

Thank you so much.

Love,

LuLu

[weabbynormalblog]

Childhood trauma=Adult Survivor

The things we tell ourselves. Be careful for what you wish for. Its really important to stop crying over shit you can't change or control.

I know its hard. Don't do this don't do that etc. Suffering is necessary especially if your a Buddhist and certainly if your human.

The Sercret, The law of attraction, the latest buzz words, you'll catch more bees with honey, that's a fact. Act now! Try this! Find the easy way out? Is there an easy way? No decision is still a decision. Stay, go, turn in circles, pondering the all of its entirety. All vying as your solution. Yes like attracts Like. FACT Belief overules like. Thats why "This shit of attracting is all wrong!". " Hello? Belief is everything!" Its our level of personal experience that is my "now" domain. I'm the God here in my life in this body today. I believe what I believe till I believe otherwise...I say the human experience should be all-inclusive, empathetic, understanding and supportive. Most people and humanitarians would agree. That's not how nature works. Survival of the fitess. Do or die. Like attracts like and I get tackled and body slammed to the ground. Why? Am I a bad person because of "xyz"? Nope. Did I do something to someone else? No. This time it was all because I was mad, triggered and I exploded; had a verbal melt down. The neighbor was disturbed by my authentic emotions. No nukes were sent, no one is getting hurt here. Just venting and trying to work out my anger. Not to hold shit in and to stop the rings of abuse. Clearly the other person in the room was overwhelmed too. Im trying to solve some issues instead I get yelling and fuck yous. I know this is not my fault!!!??? I know the whatever happened to me. "Insert major life changing event here" I am changed there is no doubt...nothing worked out as I hopped or wished it. Even so I took all steps necessary and just the same outcome. Still void, suffering and unremarkable. Yet I am where I am. No further along or better or worst off. Cha cha cha! And I must do without and put up with injustice. Denied!!! All my emotions are tied up in a neat, tight, the most perfect, best ball of raw ugly emotions on a kitchen timer ever ...I can't talk to anyone about anything, thier shackles get up and they go on the defensive, then arguing and me walking away because again I am unable to communicate what I need and overwhelmed again by my situation. Unable to communicate what is necessary for us solve our issues to move on together or apart. Grrrrr This is so common for us with brain injury, PTSD and many other host of mental health issues. There is so much that needs to be said that it gets left unsaid. Often its too late for those in need. Its very difficult to relate and communicate effectively beyond our frustration with others. We don't have the copping tools or vocabulary to express it in times of great frustration or in dire situations specifically. Am I doing something wrong? How do I change it? I must also learn to protect myself as well. So I try to diffuse with humor. So hey dial it back a thousand buddy, calm down~ me im doing my breathing exercise "listen I got high blood pressure" in hopes they back down and talk calmly and nope. Another deep breath counting on the in to 5 hippopotamus hold 6 out 7 or 9 hippopotamus depending on my stress level at the time. Look I got a Brain injury, cant we get along? Meet half way? Can we talk later? When were not angry? No? Then just leave me alone and finally I get to walk away having dealt with someone within conflict as effective as possible. Progress for me even though nothing was resolved ~ yes theres more pain and more frustration. Live and try again tomorrow or move on. When being in a place of anger thats all you can relate to, you are not able to understand anything else? Some can some can't. Im working on my flexibility, trust, bettering my health, down to my now moment. They want some kind of resolution and they end up dragging me back under again with things that aren't helpful for me, no truth, no resolution and just more critism and blaming. Not productive. Toxic people thrive in thier emotional power. Next step then. If they can not find the same patience you need to work on "issues" then work on improving your boundaries. Refuse to discuss issues when angry, make time to talk to suit

everyone. Agree to listen and then be heard. Set a timer. Be open, be reserved to be more distant from other people emotions and be more grounded with your own. Recognize and hone in on your own emotions. Practicing mindfulness, meditation, a healthful regime, socializing that benefits you too is necessary to being a good human. Im so tired of the fucking ripples that keep all my family apart already...All of it stems from the abuse and damage to the core of my soul that left rings on my childrens' lives as well. My Maternal Grandmother was in the Holocaust that tends to mare your parenting skills and the ripples expand. 3 to 4 generations of children no longer speaking to thier mothers. Im sure thier mothers were not to blame. No one protected me either. I was given up for adoption. I was abused. It happens.Thats ok I'll work with what I got. It can end there. No need to add to a bad situation. Maybe the 1person I sent off had my back. All because I promised Daddy Warbucks to make sure my best friend got on that plane. I understand I haven't been as good a friend to myself than I have to others. I was very self sacrificing like everything was my fault. Ive turned that bus around. At the end of the day you may think nothing matters. You matter! This world is nothing without your unique personality in it. Yet here you sit alone in fears with tears streaming down into rivers...I don't know about you but Im tired of wet feet. A lifetime of abuse and suffering very often at the hand of others. I over compensated for everything. Even my language supported it. It did surprised me on the face of Oliver that day. It was painful and it revealed more of the abuse of self to me often forgotten in the past similar moments of thier upbringings. Aha! PTSD, ADHT, me with Dyslexia no doubt I suffered along with my children. 11 years later we are finally starting to do the work that should of been done back then. No one was ready. I would of made my son sit at the table during dinner. Pressured my husband to enforce our agreed rules. Took time to feel and deal with the loss of Pearl, our marriage and business ...trying to understand our feelings, deal with our mental health issues Before seemed impossible, I never gave up on my family. i gave them the space they needed. Now theres Covid restrictions and passports. This stupid ass greedy human world. And now geography is still in our way. Its a lot and still only a fraction of what some humans suffer from the hands of other humans. Very sad. Friends will come and go. I know its what needs to happen. The toxic people have to learn thier lessons too. Next step is slow down give yourself some space and peace. Deep breathing till you feel you can respond when dealing with conflict. Or make another time to work on it. Do things at your own pace, no excuse needed they will wait, they feed off of it. Practice beneficial things. Like being self sufficient, its a struggle worthy of the time and effort. Im working to overcome my issues. I now know that's not the way that love or friendship should work. I ask why me what did I do to deserve such torture? I remind myself, it's only 1 part of the journey. Everyone hurts, cries and dies. Love should bring out the best. Not the worst. They are a lousy mirror right now. Thats ok we can still move forward. I can forgive them for what they were not capable of. I love them inspite of it all. As is, as it always has been. They were only capable of showing the negative even when I worked so hard to stay positive and be a good example. If not me then who? Critisim everywhere. No solutions only problems. They beat me down at every turn...I'm still breathing. Everything's a contest and no one ever wins. If you can't do this, then how are you going to do that? Why are you judging me and why do I care so much? I care not to be in conflict and this is what is driving or rather coloring my reality. I avoid conflict like Covid. My childhood trauma that I thought I dealt with years of therapy and moved on from was rearing its ugly head yet again. How

do I slay the beast for all time? My limiting behavior needed more help. So I needed to build a better foundation for myself. One built on everthing in its own time with practice, patience,acceptance, learning and more growth. So I won't have to walk away from conflict ever again. I can lean in and help us grow together as a couple or as a family or be what the other human needs positively in thier now moment. Sometimes its not about us, its about giving back with what we have learnt. I know it sucks that we have been thrown to the odds of fate to do better apart. Its not thier fault, or mine either. Yet heres me litterally paying for all of it. With my resources, energy, health and sanity. History has a way of slapping you in the face. Yes Im woke as fuck! Your opposition yes they too pay with thier blood, sweat and tears. Perhaps never on the same page or kiss or moment. At times my heart is so broken. Doubting thoughts need correcting. Like I want nothing much to do with the whole entire human race right now, I mean you no ill will. The Talliban kill with impunity, chaos and destruction in thier wake. Do they have no wants or desires but only destruction for what they can't have? Cant we teach them how to live, love and listen? Do they not want the same as others? A healthy family, a roof over ones head and food in our bellies? Are we not all from this world? I was told this duality is healthy. The human condition needs to see destruction to appreciate growth. I still don't know how this all will help that woman with the gun pointed at her head or to watch your family be slautered in front of your eyes. No human should know this. Violence has always been a part of being human. We are a human animal. I protect my life and those that I love. Life and death I choose to fight for my life and thiers. I also choose to fight for others ...when in reality we are just fighting ourselves. I appreciate everything I lost and have. So I sit in what will be my art studio and den...I know my worth and how lucky I am. I look about all the things that are still here. Stuff holds space. Illusions fade. Love can hold space for others. Did they loved me enough to say your beautiful or even I love you? Or cared enough to be by your side during your worst moments. Perhaps a we'll get through this together? Good thing I never needed any of that. I was always able alone. I did need kindness, empathy, support and understanding. It was devastating to be met with violence. Everthing was a fight in my life. But isn't that the nature of living? Personally Im tired of the abuse. They throw it back in your face every chance they get. So it seems the lesson is to look at who Iam or are. After reflection its our belief of who they are and who we are in conflict that decides the winner. Can they learn to look beyond winners and loosers? Meet us half way? Walk a mile in my shoes. I know I can. Its going to take lots of patience, proactive support and some serious housework and cleaning to shape up humanity on this world. I'm doing my work. Im not on this rock to police or please others. What about these toxic people? Where are thier lessons? They need help too, no? Society and my answer to that, is you have to go! Then the police say no. Due to Pandemic Conditions; I am in utter disbelief but I do understand. Past abuse that was not legally recorded. Yadda, Yadda shwing shwing. What about my rights and issues? Legal up Baby! Money and the boys club is still king. Harsh as it was, there are many other moments in my life that hurt me way more. I will survive this and move well beyond. I will not let others narrow mindedness change who I am. Openess, understanding, no judgements here. Yet my generousity was used against me and in the worst way by people I love like no others. Betrayed again. 》Tip off here. Recurring themes. Betrayal can be healed. At the time you could have punched me in the stomach, I wouldn't, couldn't even feel it. There was nothing but numb and delayed reactions. "Let's face it, the best is never good enough when you

have suffered abuse and neglect." Its a deep riff and or trauma that someone else may be responsible for in your psychological makeup that makes and moulds us too. It happens a lot. Unfortunatly its more common than not. Childhood trauma. I get that. As an adult I know it's my cup to fill. Unknowingly I may have inflicted it onto others, for that I apologize. I'm still a work in progress, working on myself here. I'm the one falling, stumbling and then I get back up. The damage has been done. Please walk away, I got this now. They had affected everything I did. At the sink, the powder room, the work, the garage.....mess here and there, important things left undone...here's me trying to get them all done and save the world too in one breath. No wonder its too big, too heavy and we all need to lift. The first step is admiting ill be ok, I've got my back. I'll get through this like everything else with tears, journaling and a hot beverage. I send strength and courage to those in need. You will find a way to cope, help and move on. Believe! I'll leave that guitar right there as a reminder of my shit and thiers. Along with the 7k check and your ego at the door. Let go of all expectations, broken words and promises. The stuff they said they would do...that they never did. You want something done? Do it yourself. Can't do it all then get the professional that you need.

I understand you are broken, we all are. The catch is you have to fix it and fill it. Talk to someone you trust or write it down, talk it into a recording app...whatever help you need you deal with it in a positive way 7f you can't then look that shit up. Own your shit and get on with living! You can do this! If you live in fear find a way to empower and protect yourself. Just remember we are just human here, right now. No super powers, no agents for the world or our times. Be humble, be open, heal yourselves and then help heal others. 1 person and 1 step at a time. Like the green grass that's brown in the spring, with water, care and nutrients in the fall it will be a sea of green. Small steps add up to big changes over time. Break it down. Carve out time for happiness practice. 15 minutes a day just you sitting in peace and quiet. Every step you take from here on will go in a positive, proactive solution oriented manor or not at all. It's what you choose to do《Tip. Choose better thoughts and food choices. Work on 1 thing at a time. This is what micromanagement is good for; on yourself. Yes we can be success and happy in life without anyone, that doesn't mean we should. We need to trust eachother and work together. We learn so much from conflict so don't fear it. Its what helps us grow and learn when we become stagnant.

[almasidaliano]

Mental Health Matters

i am not okay. .. and that is okay. it's okay not to be okay sometimes. it's all okay, even if it hurts. you have to always remind yourself that it's okay even when it hurts because it is always going to hurt.

imagine waking up, and for no reason at all wanting to die. imagine every day being that way until they start to run together and then it just becomes this on going day that goes on forever, and you go from waking up every morning to greeting the sun with a sign because once again you've failed to die.

i'm not always sad, i always have SAD learn the difference. SAD: Social Anxiety Disorder. thought that was it? nope. ready for the list?

SAD - SOCIAL ANXIETY DISORDER GAD - GENERAL ANXIETY DISORDER SP - SOCIAL PHOBIA CLINICAL DEPRESSION GENERAL DEPRESSION SEASONAL DEPRESSION (DID - DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER BPD - BI POLAR DISORDER) PTSD - POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER INSOMNIA BULIMIA NERVOSA

welcome to my mental health rant. as if life doesn't already fuck us enough. the best people are mad. so i try not to let it fuck with me too much. but everyday is a battle. i mean a full blown war, one that isn't always visible from the outside.

anxiety is like extremely heightened awareness. you are just aware of everything, every possible variable that could apply to a scenario pops into my head and just spins. making decisions feels impossible. trying to express myself. having so many forms of anxiety means i question and overthink everything. i get flustered easily. i chuckle nervously a lot. since i have been diagnosed since i was a freshman, ive learned some coping skills to get through the days. they backfire though because most people think i am fine and dandy.

the depression is killer. no cap, i think i could handle it if it weren't for the anxiety. like when im trying to get myself out of bed, i don't need depression on my  chest and anxiety in my ear about all the bad things life brings, and how im a failure for not getting up, pros and cons of life. there is so much pressure to live and it damn near impossible to die. like deadass, when you fr tryna get out this mf, life laughs at you in the face.

FUCK BIG PHARMA.

if i need meds i can medicate myself. the meds they would give me made it worse. it was like i was a zombie. numb and fatigued. that's when the light dimmed. and family just knew they would help and so they dimmed and dimmed and dimmed my light. i lost drive, i lost will power. all that was left was this empty vessel.

can you imagine asking for help and being gaslighted? or dismissed. they threw pills at the problem. i said they didn't work they said keep taking them. then they said you need to talk to someone- crazy i kept trying to talk to them. no one had time to hold me together; still my pieces always managed to keep them steady.

when it becomes to much i just stop. i just don't. sometimes i don't really resonate with my vessel. they call that dissociative identity. i dont really think i dissociate though so....

the waves of bipolar disorder are hectic for even myself. i dont know where the emotions be coming from. i dont know why its like click pop off. i have no idea. thats how my body responds. i try to just be quiet, but silence makes me ache i have to get it out. i think its cause i have so much buried already. i feel like a burden or an issue when i try to express myself so i tend to keep it to myself if possible. i feel the anger. my body gets hot. if i suppress the anger i cry, then the depressions back. depression is never without anxiety and that mf gotta make it impossible for me to calm down then its like how do i explain this right? so people know whats going on? lol i try to explain my feelings but it just be seeming like everyone thinks im overdramatic and doing too much. its exhausting to have to feel so much all the time.

trauma makes life the hardest. the ptsd takes your mind back to those moments. how do you climb out of your mind? when you open your eyes and you know where you are but it's not what you see. when you can see, inreality but that's not what you think. when the people with you keep trying to ground you with their voices and you hear them, but they sound distant. trying to get to them, its like they can't get to you. so you feel it again. like a fresh new wound. and then you try not to relapse because its old news, with new bruises.

appetite left when my confidence did. i still throw up from time to time. everything comes in waves now. i try to eat, but it typically makes me nauseous or i get full fast. i rarely ever have a taste for anything, i be drinking stuff steadily.

i stopped sleeping because the night terrors were too much. minds are this unlimited storage space and i would love to empty mine out. i swear i am horder of memories. i think ive forgotten things, i try to forget them, and yet they find a way to wound me again. letting go is the major key to mental health. letting things be what they will be.

one thing i have learned, happiness does not last. it won't. nothing can. nothing does. that doesn't make it any less worth it though. you have to push for something. and knowing this is what happiness, to some extent is supposed to feel like, its a reminder that everyday i fight that battle and i win. and i will find happiness within again. and it will leave again. and i will let it go. and welcome it when it comes back, thats how the cycle goes.

this was just a rant. be nice to everybody because you don't know how close they are to the edge. and if you know someone who jumps, for once support them. meaning rejoice their memory, don't say they shouldve been stronger or they were selfish. let them know they are loved and never alone. because when you are on that ledge, all that's running through your mind is all the people who will be hurting now, all the things you didn't get to do, you sit there contemplating if you are really capable of being selfish now.

people don't kill themselves because they feel like no one's there; that isn't what is meant when they say i feel alone. they mean in a room full of people. they mean when they go to their support system and still feel the same so they just decide to act like its all cool and end the conversation. its like, i know what i have and its all i need. family love support is all we need. administered correctly, i think it could save any life. blood don't always constitute family. and love is hard to find. if the support isn't sturdy, the bridge comes falling down. just be sure to tell your mental health friends youre proud of them for staying. ask them to always stay. and if ever they cannot go on, whisper into the air "you did good."

believe it or not we all feel the same pain. its just dressed up in different ways. so be mindful, pay attention. when someone's talking, do more than listen; comprehend them. support and uplift them. if there's a friend in need, be sure to be the thing theyre missing.

keep going. its not too late.

-Almasi

ps: should ever anyone need, you can always find a friend in me.

[pernellfrompike]

Time: One Test from The Exam

"...The one who admires you for your strength, but fell in love with your vulnerability..." -Mariah Ivey Yesterday, I shared words and feelings with friends. They also shared. Most of them had no idea what they were handing me, while others had proven to have presented their open palms for years now. It started with a comment about Kid Cudi. An innocent Instagram post, full of musical nostalgia, and a rather harsh critique about the artist. The next responses were subtle, but had roots that took much deeper than they sprouted. A friend mentioned something seemed "up with" me, after I apologized about how my comment about the artist might have come off. "You just don't talk to me anymore. It's whatever, I just float on my own wave." It was that passive-aggressive apathy I could call by name, a mile away. I had done so much to reach out, this time and in the past to be sure this person knew they always had space in my life. This very conversation was a result of me reaching out, four days after I sent them a text message, "Hi". Right after mentioning those text messages that were generated by me, the only thing that could've angered me was the exact thing that shot out of their mouths and into my ear. "You know, ever since you started performing, and meeting important people, I don't even know who you are anymore." As cyclical as it was triggering. Usually, this was when I heard her out. I would often silence myself to understand her position. This time, I wanted to be heard, and felt personally targeted. "I seriously need you to stop projecting who the fuck ever you are getting me confused with." "Okay, if you're going to yell, I'm hanging up" "No! Would you just listen to me" "You're still yelling, I'm done. Bye." Before the conversation was a phone call, I had messaged another friend I hadn't heard from in three months. I'd texted them, messaged them, tagged them on Instagram. Nothing. I asked them had they got a new number. It took a while, but when he answered, he asked if I wanted to talk. I sent him my number, and heard nothing. After the previous phone call, I had now messaged him to see what he might have said. "Ive called three times." We played phone tag for a while, and discovered our phones just don't like each other. He called once more, and my phone funally rung. "Hey man, what's up?" I started off slowly, then before I knew it, I was yelling at him about how at such an enormous change in my life, I needed my best friends to check up on me. I was angry. You the few people who could make me feel comfortable in my own skin were assuming that they should give me space, and that maybe this was a means to an end. In his normal, first reluctant then well-spoken, tone he expressed how he thought I had changed for the worse. "I don't know if it was all the women who did you wrong, or something, but I was afraid you were becoming a douche." The second time someone claimed I wasn't the same person. As he spoke on about where he felt like it happened, I reflected on what might have happened to me, that these two people might have seen and what they are seeing now. I wanted to believe that I was the same person. I thought clearly back on memories I had with them. Then again for the second time my stage name was mentioned, saying "I don't know Theon. I know Pernell." What irks me so much about hearing that is that there is always a tone of entitlement to that name, by people other than myself. People simply met me through art or an art colleague and continued to address me as Theon Lee. For whatever reason, these two friends were trying to reach for a person they felt was gone. That by calling me by a name that was given to me, against will, they would conjure a part of me that I had long forgotten. That is when I realized neither of these people knew me. Neither of them could recall how miserable I was, and how desperately hilarious I was to keep from committing suicide. My friends, my life-long friends were missing an illusion of who I wanted people to think I was. They had fallen in love with a mask. One that others named Pernell. Since 2014, vulnerability has been my strong suit. Little did I know, the world would not be accepting to a blk cis-gender heterosexual male, in a time where men like me were being held accountable for our damage to blk femme people and LGBTQIA. I should not expect them to, nor do I no longer. I, now, have friends whom I seldom come in contact with. Friendship used to mean the people you laughed hardest with. People who's sentences you could start and finish. But without an answer to family, wires got cut. Boundaries got crossed. Secrets got sold and manipulated. I've been blackmailed my more people who claimed to be close friends than people who have not hesitated to express their disdain for me. Then I learned intentionality. What are our intentions? What are we willing to do to fulfill them? What do you make time for and who? My male best friend deserved to hear those dark truths about me. For himself and for me. He needed to know who I was, if he was going to make a clear decision as to where I stood in his life. It was fair. I told him about hiding behind humor. Hating myself. The constant complacency that drove me to join the military and a young marriage. It was a lot to take in. He said so, himself. But it gave him new ground, and better perspective of who I was and what he was asking me to do. I told him that he was worth hunting down and working for. He is my brother, in every since of the word, and once again he had kept me. What is love? For me, it is the utmost consideration for the benefit of one's well-being. Hate is the perversion of that. The constant disapproval of that well-being. When I opened up to one person, that only thing I was met with was a barrage of insults and disapprovals that seemed seasoned, as if this person had been patiently waiting for the right time to tear me down. When I opened up to the other person, they carefully placed what they thought should be there, and waited to see what took and what was rejected. Love takes a lot of effort and time. Time is not the end-all evidence that someone is true to you. It is easy to sit in the background, by the bar, in someone's life then recite the hooks after the second verse. It is true love to stand front row, ticket stub in one hand Facebook live in the other, and be a part of the show. Bit of advice, don't over qualify people for attendance. Time is only ONE test in this exam called Life.