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#and then when i get out of here i have to go see my therapist
harksness · 2 days
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No Going Back
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Summary: An incurable illness plagues you, something one of a kind that has never been seen before. It corrupts magic, leaving you unable to use your powers without risking death or worse. Someone wants all of your unused power themselves, and a reluctant Agatha Harkness is convinced to keep you safe after some bribing.
A/N: aaa I've had the idea for this for like 2yrs now!!! I'm super excited to be finishing it and posting it finally!! It's my first in depth, planned fanfic and I'm super excited to share it I hope you guys like it <3
(Also lowk paranoid that some of the creative decisions I made for this fic are gonna end up being explained in the show so just nevermind that if it happens we're just here for some fun romance and smut with Agatha ok)
WC: 3k
Anxiety gnaws away at your insides as you flick on your blinker, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel as you turn down that familiar dirt road that you hate so much. That long, winding dirt road that also leads to the house that you hate so much.
You try the breathing exercises your therapist taught you. The slow, calculated inhales, the holding your breath, and slow calculated exhales, but it does nothing to relieve the feeling in your chest that’s suffocating you. 
The cars headlights cut through the darkness, thick layers of tall, old trees swarming each side of the road as their branches bow overhead. You can’t even see the night sky through the thick layers of leaves.
You’re positive that if you had consulted your therapist about this little visit before coming, she would have told you that it’s not a good idea. That reopening old wounds after basically being no contact for four years would undo a lot of healing and hard work. 
But, when you listened to your fathers urgent voicemail, you knew you needed to come. You had no choice. The deal you made with him before leaving was more than fair. He agreed to leave you alone and only contact you if it was a necessary emergency. And you agreed to that more than fair deal.
He wanted you to be as far away from him as possible, and you wanted the same thing. To be far, far away from him and any reminders of what happened to you, your childhood and the toxic magical community you grew up in.
You’re sure that you were only able to get away because of your little defect. And because after your mother died, he immediately remarried and your father didn’t waste time popping out plenty of new babies, pureblooded heirs that could flawlessly wield their old blood magic unlike you.
If your father called you back home you know it’s a serious, urgent matter. And that only makes your chest grow tighter as you turn the last bend and your childhood home comes into view.
“Well.. Here we go..”
You grumble to yourself, the tall, menacing house looming over you amongst all of the trees. The night sky actually cuts through these parts, the moonglow illuminating the house and its surroundings as you pull up to the front door. Immediately you kill the engine and shift your car into park, leaning forward to peer up at the house.
The pristine white under the moonlight makes it look like it’s glowing. It stands tall and proud and perfect, no chipping or dirt in sight. A black roof sits on top, perfectly black framed windows spread along the sides of the house, and not a single one is lit up with evidence of life. Curiously, you keep peering, checking for a sign of anyone being in the house. With a deep breath you grab your keys and your bag and exit the car.
It’s dead silent, save for the sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the trees when a soft breeze blows through. You pause as you take a deep breath to steady yourself. Cautiously, you walk around to the other side of the house, leaning over and peering just enough to see if any lights were turned on. 
Nope. Nothing. All of the windows are black as pitch. You groan, pinching your eyes shut as you try to soothe yourself by rubbing your fingers on your forehead.
Whatever. You’ll just go inside and call your father. You’d be dead meat if you left without his permission, anyways. He sounded very urgent. Deathly urgent. With a deep exhale pushing past your lips, you walk back around the house, the wind chilling your cheeks as you start to make your way up the front steps. 
No door handle, just a block of smooth painted wood that looks like a door. A wave of exhaustion overtakes you as you press your palm to the smooth center of the wood, your features dropping as an electric blue glow flows in ripples over the door before it parts for you, splitting down the middle and swinging open.
The main hall is eerily dark and you have to force yourself to move forward. The moonlight is bright enough to where you can see, but everything is shadowed. The hall stretches out far, down the length of the entire house before leading to the wide, open stairs that would take you up to the expansive second level. 
A hard, loud slam echoes through the halls and shakes the house. It’s enough for you to let out a scream and jump as you fling yourself around to the source of the noise, noticing the front doors are sealed closed. Your face scrunches in confusion at the sight. It should just.. Close like a normal door as soon as you are comfortably in the threshold of the house. Never have you seen it linger or slam like that before, not even in your years growing up here.
You sigh, deciding to brush it off even though you know something is wrong, more so because you know that you’re incapable of protecting yourself like a normal witch would be able to so gaslighting yourself is just the easier option for now.
Besides, whatever’s wrong can’t be life endangering to you. The property is warded and safe, it’s basically impossible to get through to the house let alone inside of it. Hundreds of years of magical wards and barriers make sure of that. So, you grab your phone out of your coat pocket, your fingers cold as you pull up your fathers contact and press the call button.
You raise the phone to your ear as the sound of the monotonous chimes ring through the silent rooms as you pass through them, cautiously walking into the family room. The sound of your boots is muffled by the thick carpet as you walk over it to peer out of the window. The wind rushes against the side of the house, the echo of the noise whispering through the silent halls of your childhood home.
“Okay, I’m at the house. What’s going on and where are you? Please… Just call me back.”
Lowering the phone with a tense sigh, you drop it back into your coat pocket before turning back to the window. You decide to analyze the treeline for any sign of something being off, and you see something that makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.
One of the protective runes carved into one of the trees has been singed off. You can tell by the sizzling burn marks that it was magic, the bark of the tree burned all the way through and to the wood underneath, leaving no sign of the runes that were previously there. Your throat dries up.
Whoever did that had to have broken through two other protective barriers on the property. It’s tough magic and in order to break through it… You’d need some scarily powerful magic on your side.
There’s only been a few times over the decades since the house was built that someone has been able to break through the protective barriers. The last time was when your mother was assassinated and you were left for dead when you were a child.
You can’t stop the panic from bubbling in your chest this time, not knowing what to do or how to protect yourself. Your mind is frantic as you search for a solution, your hand moving to fist the pendant hanging from your neck, but something catches your eye and you freeze. In the reflection of the window you see her, a woman reclining in your fathers favorite chair. The back of the extravagant, plush red chair reaches high, the woman is slumped down in it, her black heeled boots dangling over one armrest of the chair as she gently swings her feet back and forth, the fabric of her purple skirt swaying with each movement.
Her body is twisted just a bit so that her front is tilted towards you, her chin resting in her palm. She’s donning a very traditionally witchy getup. Her wild, brown curls fall off of her head in crazy waves as it cascades over her shoulders. Her lips are quirked in the snarkiest smirk you’ve ever seen, your chest tightening even further when you notice her bright blue eyes are planted right on you. 
You whip around to face her, your eyes widening when you see her with your own two eyes and not in the window's reflection, confirming this is real and not a figment of your imagination.
“Oh my goodness! It took you long enough to notice me! If this were a horror movie, or if I actually wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead the second those doors slammed shut, sweetheart.”
The woman's smooth voice has a taunting edge to it. She swings her feet over and around and they land against the carpet with a dramatic thump! before she pushes herself out of the chair and onto her feet.
“Thank god I don’t want to kill you.”
Her smirk drops into a warning smile, her voice doing the same. You’re gripping your pendant so tightly that you can feel it cutting into the skin of your palm.
“What do you mean? What do you want?”
You ask, your voice shaky and soft. She drops her gaze to your fist, pointing at it.
“That’s what I want.”
Her eyes meet yours again as she takes a few steps towards you. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl and give it to me? Or do I have to take it from you?”
She holds out her hand, and that’s when your gaze catches on the pendant on her neck. Your eyes widen in horror, taking a slow step backwards.
Every witch knows about Agatha Harkness. About her long list of crimes, both magical and not. Especially those of you connected to the elder families. She’s successfully stolen from some, even killed a few. She was a suspect in your mothers murder and your assault, but was ruled out for having been out of the country at the time.
“Why do you want it?”
You stutter through the sentence, trying to distract her for a moment as you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do. You just keep hoping, praying to whatever god is listening, that you can get your magic to work right just this once.
“Stop stalling, honey.. You know exactly why I want it.”
You take her words as your signal to call on your magic, and it appears in a sickly blue-ish yellow glow, enveloping you as you feel it wash over you, turning you invisible. You start cursing internally, knowing your magic won’t last long enough to keep you safe. But you have to try something. 
You don’t know what to do. Just run to your car, which probably won’t work, hide, which also probably won’t work, or somehow try to distract her which is your best bet but also probably won’t work.
So, you start booking it down the hall, the hard thumps of your feet on wood rattling through the old house as you dart for the stairs. Your fingers wrap around the bannister and you start running up the steps, taking them two steps at a time as you desperately search your mind for a good place to hide. 
“It’s funny you think you can hide, sweetheart.”
Agatha calls after you, and you can already hear her making her way up the stairs. She’s taking her time as she follows after you. You bolt down the hall, finding your old bedroom. When you throw open the door you’re not surprised to see that they renovated it, it seems to be an art studio for your step mother now.
You step back into the hallway, remaining invisible as you quietly move out of the way. Agatha is making her way down the hall, her robes and long hair flowing dramatically behind her as she approaches the door you flung open.
“Oh, come on.. Just make this easier for the both of us and come on out.”
She laughs as she sticks her head into the room, surveying it. She must be suspicious that you’re not actually in there. You take the opportunity to do something you’ve never tried before, something stupid that could kill you- and you call on your magic.
You raise your hand, closing your eyes as you carefully begin to draw your power from the pendant around your neck. It’s unstable in its pure form like this, your anxiety bubbling in your chest as you draw it into your hand, feeling it crackle and pop like a fire. You feel the invisibility spell wash off of you like water, your fingers flicking backwards in time with the powerful bursts of magic.
You build the magic steadily, higher and higher as you wait for her to turn around.
When she finally does, you twist your arms, using all of your strength to fling the yellow-blue ball of magic right into the woman. She flies backwards, and you hear the crashing noises as she falls right into all of the easels and canvases.
Peering through the door, you see her in a clump on the floor with the broken and tattered art supplies. She blows a long piece of thick brown hair that hand landed in her face out of the way with a dramatic puff of her lips.
“I thought you couldn’t use magic..”
Agatha grumbles as she climbs to her feet, dusting herself off. She pauses, an uneasy look overtaking her face.
“What.. What was that?”
She groans, wrapping her arms around her stomach where your magic had landed. You let out a breathy, surprised laugh. 
“What did you do to me!? I thought you couldn't use magic!”
Agatha yells at you, rage seeping through her voice as it booms in the halls of the house. Fear grips you again as you straighten up, not bothering to give her an explanation.
She groans out in pain behind you, and you start running. Your feet heavy thumps as you book it down the hall, thinking you finally got a chance.
Not only does she need to realize what's happening to her, she needs to purge it from her body. Someone that powerful shouldn't have an issue dealing with it, but fighting it out should stall just long enough for you to get away.
Or so you thought.
Something hits you so hard that you fall to the ground, landing roughly on your right arm. The force of your body hitting the hard wood beneath you causes your head to snap against the floor too, a loud yelp of pain pushing out of your throat as pain shoots in hot flashes across your skull and down your arm.
A few seconds later you’re blinking dumbly as you try to regain your senses, your head ringing and vision blurry from your hard fall. Your eyes roll in your head, a groggy groan escaping your lips as you desperately try to pick yourself off the ground.
Your right arm is stuck. Shoulder to hand, as if it’s superglued to the wood beneath you. Desperately you pull on your arm, trying to sit up to no avail as you hear the woman approaching you from behind.
You’re basically a bug that walked into a sticky trap, helpless as you watch your impending demise approach you. You turn your head to the sound of boots on the wooden floor, seeing Agatha sauntering towards you, purple skirt swaying around the ankles of her black boots. You’re just barely able to make out a coherent thought through all of the pain and fog clouding your mind- you’re fucked.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, your head throbbing in time with every beat as the woman crouches down before you. You’re unable to focus on her features, desperately wincing and pinching your eyes shut to try and get rid of the pain. Her fingers wrap around your jaw, biting softly into your cheeks as she focuses your lolling head on her gaze.
“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean for you to hit the ground that hard. Don’t wanna risk damaging that pretty face, hm?”
You blink rapidly as she starts to come into focus. You try to gargle out a response, but find yourself unable to as pain shoots through your skull. She coos at you with wide eyes, raising her free hand to run softly over the top of your head.
“At the very least, there’s gonna be a bump. At the very most, a concussion.. I really am sorry, but I needed this-”
Her hand is reaching towards your neck. Panic spikes in your chest when you realize she’s going to grab your necklace.
“N-no!”
You force the word past your lips in a desperate stutter, your voice echoing through the long hall so loudly that it surprises you. The witch before you even seems a bit taken off guard, curling her fingers back as she retreats her hand only slightly.
“What’s wrong with your magic..”
She asks, her voice soft and firm as her eyes narrow at you in curiosity. Panic is bubbling in your chest, rising in your throat.
“I don’t know.”
You whisper in return, before that all too familiar flash of blue-yellow magic lights up between the two of you. Agatha raises her hands, manifesting a wide, purple shield the exact moment your unstable magic collides with it. A loud noise sounds right when it collides with hers, shaking the house and echoing loudly in your ears. Your head flies in the opposite direction at the force, smacking against the floor once again as your vision goes black.
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pennotfound · 2 days
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I deviated from my usual DNF today to write a little platonic snf fic because their friendship lately really is sweet.
So here's a little something I wrote this morning, based on my thoughts about what's been going on at twitchcon. Hope you all enjoy it :)
That's what friends are for
- a dteam fic
George settled into his seat at the table and poked at the food on his plate. It was mid at best, and he would have rather eaten at his favorite sushi restaurant, but he needed to do this.
It was the last item on his checklist - the one his therapist gave him several months ago.
What did she call it again?
Oh yeah - exposure therapy.
At least he'd been building up to it though - taking little baby steps.
That first step off the plane after it arrived in LA. Stepping out of the Uber in front of twitchcon. Walking through the door, and every freaking step that followed.
Through it all, Sapnap never left his side.
To be fair though, most of those steps were made with his friend gently pushing him.
At least it started gentle in the airport.
“It's ok.” Sapnap patted him on the shoulder. “You've got this.”
Several hours later Sapnap reached the end of his patience.
“George…” Sapnap rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, it's a fucking bathroom. Just go.”
By the end of the first day George was feeling better. He'd had several interactions with fans, each more positive than the one before. It bolstered his confidence so much that he barely flinched before walking into Komanche’s party that night.
Sapnap's assurance that there wouldn't be any opps there helped too.
And he had fun. More fun than he'd had in months.
The only thing missing was Dream, although George had texted his best friend several times through the night with updates, silly selfies, and more “I miss you”s than he cared to admit.
And when he got back to his hotel room early in the morning and flopped onto his bed, for the first time in months George felt… normal.
Now though… Right now he did not feel normal.
But like he said, this was the last step. If he could get through this, he could get through anything.
George took a deep breath, shoved a bite of bland food into his mouth and chewed silently while the sounds of idle chatter rang in his ears. He couldn't pick out any specific voices, at least not until four bites in.
The first voice sent George back two years, to a flat in London and a once friendly voice coming from his phone.
Loud. Boisterous.
Annoying.
Moments later more voices joined in, as familiar as the first. George closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of the tasteless mush in his mouth. It stuck to his tongue like paste and he forced it down before reaching for his glass of lemonade.
One by one, each and every one of the opps George had dreaded seeing pulled out chairs around the long table. Some said polite hellos to him or Sapnap, some offered sideways glances and eye rolls. Whispers to each other, wondering why he was here.
He fixed his eyes on his plate, waiting for what would surely come next. For Harry or anyone to make a scene and tell him and Sapnap to leave. But they didn't.
Why didn't they?
Were they planning to roast him? Taunt him? Threaten him?
A tap of a shoe on his own foot pulled George from his spiral and he glanced to his right. Sapnap gave him an encouraging smile, then lifted his glass.
George’s heart slowed as he lifted his glass of lemonade and clinked it against Sapnap’s.
His friend was here with him, and he wasn't going anywhere.
An hour later, the opps filed out of the cafeteria after an awkward group picture. George knew he and Sapnap would be cropped out of it, but he didn't care. Sapnap called up an Uber, and once they were alone he opened FaceTime. A familiar tone sounded, followed by an even more familiar voice - one that calmed the last few frazzled nerves that crackled under George's skin.
“Hey!” Dream said, voice soft over the muffled sounds of football echoing on the other end of the line. “Wait, let me go somewhere quieter first.”
A few minutes later Dream stepped into a quiet corner in the stadium and held up his phone again. "So, what's up?”
“Dude!” Sapnap exclaimed. “You wouldn't believe what just happened to us! It was insane and weird and maybe a little uncomfortable for Gogy here but he did it!” George laughed as Sapnap wrapped an arm around his shoulder and continued. “He sat at the same fucking table as like a dozen oops and he didn't have a panic attack or leave or anything. He sat there with me and showed those bastards that he didn't care. And damn it, I'm so fucking proud of this guy!”
With another giggle, George grinned, then looked at Sapnap's phone.
Dream blinked twice before the image on Sapnap’s phone started shaking with excitement. “Let's go! Let's fucking go! I'm so proud of you George!”
“Thanks.” George replied with a smile, shifting his gaze between his two friends and wishing they could all be together right now.
“So does this mean…” Dream’s face drew closer, filling up the screen in a comical way.
“Mm-hmm.” George nodded excitedly. “I'm ready. Once I get home, I'm ready to come back. Ready to post videos again. Ready to stream again. I just need one thing, Dream.”
Sapnap dropped his arm and pulled away from George. “Wait, wait, wait… whatever you're gonna say, George, if it's what I think it is then you need to call Dream later from your own phone.”
“Ewww, no!” George giggled and pressed a hand to his face. “I was just going to say that I need a big group hug. With my two best friends.”
“Think we can do that, Sapnap?” Dream replied, laughing.
“You know what?” Sapnap wrapped his arm around George again. “I think we can.”
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ef-1 · 8 months
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girlhood
#i have to fly out to capetown to see mother and im literally debating if i could land in the morning and leave at night on the same day#like. anything longer than that is going to ruin my year.#when she called and did her “katherine. you have to be here on the 10th” i literally sobbed in my bed for the rest of the day 😍😍😍#not dyeing my hair black for a year and its getting lighter and lighter everyday and i look like her again#and my therapist telling me “you need to do things for yourself.” but like can i? sorry that woman traumatised me and i actually cant :)#like everything i do is informed by her#I'm going to go and just like everytime the only way to keep my sanity is to mirror her. talk and sit and speak and read and eat like her#and its such a terrifying experience bc i remember that im capable of emulating her viciousness and maybe i am my mother's daugher 🤢🤢🤢#and im going to come back and its going to take fucking months for me to feel like myself again#“oh you look so beautiful just like your mother” i hope you DIE lol !!! the fact that my conception of beauty was shaped by her#growing up with this cruel beautiful detached woman and realising that at the intersection of beauty and wickness is a lifetime of pain#and still being so desperate for her approval- for any metaphysical proximity to her that i felt elated when#people would tell me i look like her. that it meant i was also beautiful like her and maybe she'll love me a little for it#but now i know for a fact that i do look like her and it makes saliva swell under my tongue - that moment right before you throw up-#when people mention it 😍#last time i was in capetown my optic neuritis flared up (and i know for a fact it was that it was ms-stress related from having to see her)#and i thought i hid it so well even though i had near constant headaches & lethargy until she said “katherine give me the red notebook”#and i knew that she knew all along. it was so acutely humiliating standing there and knowing she knows i cant see which one is the red one#and she tilted her head and said “whats the matter? do you not know what red looks like?”#im never going to have kids. my mother and i read eachother so well it can only mean im never too far removed from becoming her#lol!!!!!!!!!
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holedyke · 4 months
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having a hashtag bad one 👍
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bunnihearted · 3 months
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regardless of the "learn how to be alone" dravel, being lonely actually is really bad for your mental health and can be very painful :p
#i've been doing so so bad#and i've had breakdowns frequently this past week#and i dont have friends or family or a partner or even a therapist lmao#so im alone and thus only feeling worse and worse#my mom has been in an unusual bad mood lately so i havent been able to talk to her at all#but today she asked me to go to her to the store bc she wanted me to buy smth#and on the way we watched the snails and she found them cute (she has never appreciated snails before)#and now i instantly feel a bit better and a bit more normal after only 15 min of hanging out with her#it's so easy for ppl who have family or friends or a partner to judge and criticize me#but like.... u have ppl close to u and u know nothing abt what it feels like to be in my position#it's so condescending and lacking of compassion#i dont understand your pov either but at least im not TELLING YOU directly how much i judge you#like ppl judge me so hard for feeling miserable in my loneliness... but it's easy for u to say those things#like u dont feel my despairing loneliness bc u have a fkn partner. u have fkn friends. or a fkn family. easy for u to judge me from up ther#anyway im much better at being alone than most ppl bc im still alive and im enduring the pain every day#other ppl have ppl around them 💀 only others who are all alone can understand how much it hurts#and it wont be fixed by loving yourself or loving to be alone or whatever other bs they use to criticize u ._.#being alone IS harmful to your health. there are studies on it and im not just making that shit up#i AM allowed to feel pain bc i dont have anyone#ugh esp ppl w partners who can receive physical and romantic attention.... when they judge me.....#stfu forever u have no idea how i feel 💀 and u could never know simply by having had a partner at all...#but yeah. it bothers me too bc i NEVER see someone on here and go#damn i hate this sm i gotta let them know by sending them anons or vague post abt them#like i dont get up in their faces and tell them all my judgemental or bitter or hateful thoughts abt them#even this post is only bc other ppl have taken the liberty to without my consent or having asked tell me directly how pathetic i am#how im not allowed to feel alone. how i have a victim mentality so on and so forth#i never tell other ppl things like that. even if i think them (which honestly i rarely do unless they're extremely toxic TO other ppl) i wo#say shit abt it to them.... ??? like why?#when i sometimes see like ppl have friends on here or talk abt their partners i can feel bitter and jealous#bc im surrounded by seeing things i so deeply crave but im not a humanbeing worth of those things
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purpurussy · 2 months
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#tw suicide#idk i feel like i am probably gonna kms after TIT#i would do it sooner but i asked one of my friends to come with me and it would suck if i made him go alone#and it is something to look forward to which is helping me hang on i guess#but ughhhh once uni starts again in september i know everything is gonna fall apart.#i already got an extension on my thesis due to being a useless shell of a person who can't motivate themselves to do anything atm#but i was supposed to get some work done over the summer and have so far done nothing#hence why i want to kms before i have to talk to my fucking supervisors again and admit yet again that i simply cannot do this 😭#and it's not just this. my executive dysfunction has been so bad over the past couple of years and it's only getting worse#to the point where i can't imagine being able to work at all. and if i can't work i can't get out of my parents house#and then what the fuck is the point.#every time i see someone on here talking about bonding with their parents over dnp I'm like damn what's it like#to have parents who actually want to talk to you DSFGJJKL i know they let me live in their house at my big age#but that's only bc id literally be homeless otherwise and they're not like evil. they just don't love me#also went through a deeply embarrassing breakup recently#tl;dr ive been in love with this person for over a decade and i thought they were the dan to my phil or vice versa.#then after 10 years they left me and i'll spare the details but it has me wondering if they ever loved me#i thought it was a “let's live together and get a cat one day” relationship#but now i feel like for them. it was just a “sex and video games” type situation#i am trying soooo hard to at least be creative bc that makes me happy sometimes but it's hard to not be overly critical of myself#and now im getting to a point where i can barely even find any joy in this space any more. for a bunch of reasons#most of which revolve around me being extremely sensitive. and this is like my last bastion of dopamine so that fucking sucks#idk i don't see the point in my life any more. a social worker actually told me recently that i should consider euthanasia so.#it's just completely over for me i fear#this is not even mentioning all the damn migraines. and all the other ways in which my body simply doesn't work properly#sorry for this weird ass vent I'm not in therapy any more bc i couldn't find a therapist willing to treat me+all my diagnoses at this point#and im scared my friends will stop wanting to talk to me if i talk to them about this. several of them already have#the 2 friends i have left anyway. that's a whole other thing. when they said it's hard for autistic ppl to make friends i took that persona#so uh at this point it's vent here or develop a substance abuse problem. and im already halfway to having a substance abuse problem#anyway dan and phil for the love of god please fucking post something tonight. unfortunately you are my only hope
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themanwhowouldbefruit · 6 months
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my doctor was sooooo fucking worthless and unhelpful im going to masturbate and i hope it fucking kills me
#“no need for follow up”#“yeah you did have several cysts we scrapped off your remaining ovary but. dw about it. idk why they were there. dw about it. oh also your#ovary on that side was freakishly huge but. dw about it. it might go away. dw about it#*doctor shrug emoji* “#“go see a gyno next year maybe. but not me im too important for that. go find and onboard a gyno to your situation. next year maybe idk lol”#he barely even looked at my incision like#this fucking appointment could have been an email. or a phone call. or they just could have let me start driving again. also i forgot to ask#if i can stop drinking ensure now or after the 6 weeks? cause that shit cost $$$$. but he probably would have been super unhelpful if i had#fr fr this guy only wanted to give me the time of day when he thought i might have fun cancer inside and now he's like gtfo!!!! get your#fugly cancerless ass out of here!!!! recover from a major surgery on your own you swagless cancerless loser 🤣 we arent helping your#swagless ass!!!#anyway it seems weird and fucked up that im was never offered to see a physical therapist and i guess am going to have to blindly trust my#abs they sliced thru are healing or whatever and to rawdog my own physical recovery of my muscles? even just dumb shit like. my center of#gravity has drastically changed since the mass removal and my back hurts like shit all the time because all my posture muscles were built up#for when i had an extra 30 pounds of cyst hanging in the front and my posture and walking reflected that. and i lowkey don't know how#hard i am able to be with my healing incision because its really tight and makes me hunch forwards still. like i would really like to know#how much i can safely or maybe should be forcing my skin and incision to stretch. without damage? is that crazy#am i crazy???#this shit is why i didnt see a doctor for 2 years until my problems had snowballed into a 30 pounds ovarian cyst that was crushing my other#organs and had one of my kidneys all backed up with piss. and even getting emergency treatment for it everyone was like. how did you like it#get this bad?? how could you not know you needed to seek medical treatment???? like. bro. seeking medical treatment isnt even a guarantee to#get medical treatment.#anyway he said my “remaining ovary seemed low key polycystic but dw about it. don't quote me on that im not dealing with it.”#bro i dont want to doctor google it i wanted an actual doctor to deal with it. fuck you.#like. maybe even a doctor who knows my situation so i dont have to struggle with getting someone to believe me and take me seriously.#but whatever. back to trying to figure out the daily protein and extra calories my body needs for recovery via doctor google i guess.#its fine 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬
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savage-rhi · 10 days
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Late night magenta.
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twinknote · 3 months
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ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha i think i'm going to go. Actually insane
my brother's gf's parents just put in an offer on a house for them today and it was accepted! and anyone who is not deeply mentally ill and traumatized and disabled and stuck living with their shitty fucking parents in their shitty fucking moldy decrepit hoarder's house would be happy for them! and i'm Soooooooo not! i fear i need to be kept 1,000 feet away from their happy celebratory housewarming shit bc it makes me want to kill everyone and then myself! like my mom texted me that they got the house and i immediately just started having a mental fucking breakdown and laughing and crying hysterically!!!!!!!!
like wow that's awesome!!!!! that's so awesome that you have rich parents who can just. randomly decide to buy you a house!!!!! that's so cool and good for you!!!! it would be so cool if my parents even had a decent house that isn't full of mold and bugs and mice and probably asbestos and has no usable dining or living room because they're piled with random fucking shit!!!! it would be so cool if some evil rotting smell didn't waft through the vents regularly!!!! it would be so cool if they were functional and capable of cleaning!!!!! it would be so cool if they were able or willing to help me live literally anywhere else, or GOD forbid realize that maybe living here isn't good for me!!!! that would be SO awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
but it's So cool that your parents bought you a 3 bedroom house on a whim 👍 it's so cool that my brother gets to live there without having to go through any of the barriers that come with buying a house. it's so cool that people are just able to make money and live in safe and comfortable places and both of those things feel entirely impossible for me to the point where i truly just feel like i'm not meant to be happy or even just safe and sane. it's so cool that people just magically get their basic needs met and i'm just over here like ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha i'll never have that! that's awesome 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍
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izzy-b-hands · 3 months
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Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)
#text post#Housemate was amazing and helped me calm down a bit before ae went to work bc my brain woke up in meltdown mode over this tbh#it sucks bc like. im excited to see my mum despite the Everything with that lmao#but im not excited for how her bf has been acting since they got here (and it's been day 1 out of 7 days)#with some outright homophobic comments while Housemate and i hosted them briefly at our house yesterday afternoon#not abt us but like. i mean. u know we're both queer so#doesn't really matter if it's abt us or not it's still fucky and makes me worry abt how he's gonna be today!!#doesn't help that he really wanted to go to Italy with her instead this summer#(despite the passive aggressive complaints from him & mum to a degree abt how expensive it was for them to come out here)#(we're ignoring the fact that a European trip would be even more expensive lmao tho i do think if they want to/can afford it they should go)#like. the Vibe from him has just been that he'll be Just Polite Enough but that he didn't want to be here#and he doesn't expect to have any fun and it's like#dude i am Trying. i and Housemate have looked up stuff to do that includes things he likes (like guns and historical weapons)#we tried making comments abt that yesterday like hey u might like this but if there's anything u have in mind already#and he was just. whatever idc but then made comments that made it clear he's not excited for anything else#like museums or the beach for sea glass hunting or the bird sanctuary or even the zoo#and all have places to rest/sit plus restrooms and food so I don't think it's a worry abt facilities thing for him#i think he's just fed up that I'm still involved in my mum's life since i moved and like#yes there's a detangling of the umbilical cord i and my past therapist were trying to eventually get my mum to cut#since cutting it myself in any attempt has had her metaphorically taping it back together#but like. it's not entirely on me here. I'm trying to set boundaries and make sure she's giving him more attention than me since he's w/her#more than i am now#i know he's upset when she helps me financially too (i offer to pay her back but she always refuses it) bc she took me aside yesterday#to give me some cash for the time with them for souvenirs/fun stuff i might not buy otherwise bc im trying to be mindful of money#aka still waiting on money my fkn job should have already paid me like. a week or more ago now#he makes her happy so even if he hates me i still care abt his frustrating ass#and i do want him to have as much fun as he can while still relaxing during the trip out here#but i feel like im gonna have to physically shake him by the shoulders screaming this before he listens#and even if he listens he probably won't believe me#sorry for the tag essay the edible hasn't kicked in yet can u guys tell lmao
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#ever sit like a corpse in your own body?#im doing a job i wasnt designed for. theres this funny thing we do in academia where we beg for money. write in consise phrasing why we#deserve funding. what it is about our project what it is about our personhood that makes us deserving. what we're doing in our present to#give back and ensure a better future. and i can pull together a description of a nervous kid who couldn't read but loved to learn anyway.#who didnt kno how to hold proper a conversation until college and so tried and got better at ppl. who wouldnt let a language problem get in#the way of information gain. who cares about making complicated info visually digestible. and that's a nice story. but it falls apart when#projected into the future. what r u doing for the future? im just trying to continue existing#dont u want to help other ppl like u? sure but i dont have anything nice to say to them. does it ever get easier? no. it probably never will#ur brain was not built for reading. sometimes things r just terrible and u have to accept that. develop a crippling mental disorder or do#something where u dont have to read. see. not helpful. bad attitude. im just too full of blood and broken glass. all my achievements r#stained red and it hurts to look at them. to get myself to function i have to squeeze so tight i can feel the strain in my head. and even#then its not enough. do u kno what its like to spend ur whole life building something only to watch it burn to ashes in front of u? just a#broken machine rotting away underground where no one will see it. but dont let things fester. speak up if somethings wrong. and say what?#lmao i wrote this last night and then today when my advisor was like: hows it going? do u feel like u have enough time to get everything#done? and i had the gall to be like *voice strained high to prevent crying* its alright i think ive got enough time. bc yea technically i#think there r enough hours in yhr day that if i really tried i could get it all done. but that doesn't count the time i spend laying with#thr absolute desolation of my mind. so no. there isnt enough time bc im not doing well. but there's nothing he can do abt it so ya kno#whats the point in talking abt it except to say ya sorry im such a wretched miserable person. i dont kno how to fix it. my enthusiasm is#hidden under layer upon layer of pain. i burnef out before even getting here and im only making it worse#but whatever ill see my therapist Tuesday#unrelated
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liazrad · 4 months
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GRRRRR I HATE IT HERE I HATE LIVING WITH MY DAD AND STEPMOM IT'S THE WORST!!!!! I AM FUCKING MISERABLE.
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samuraisharkie · 5 months
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due to Life Shit I kind of stopped drawing much about a year or two after I graduated high school bc I just kind of didn’t have the time or mental/emotional/physical capacity to fit it in, despite art being something I really want to be a part of my career. It kind of makes me sick to realize how much muscle memory I lost just from that time (I had only about a year and a half total of absolutely no art but that was enough. doesn’t help that during that time I seriously injured my hands) considering I’ve been drawing my entire life. I really wish things had not gone that way and that I could have kept going, but expectations were on me to do something else and any time I sat down to draw was treated as wasting time. There’s also something weird about recovering from severe trauma that kind of adjusts how you engage with a hobby you used as a coping mechanism, which Art very much was. I almost never drew vent art, but I used it to focus on something and make myself happy and proud of work I actually could do, and once I was out of the environments that funneled me into drawing (being forced to go to church, school, anything involving sitting down for a long period of time) I found less time to actually have an excuse. Someone bought me a single college course of art classes right out of high school, and I think that was where I COULD have had the opportunity to really get started if I had actually had the money to continue and the college hadn’t been so far away. After that course ended I didn’t have that excuse anymore. I used to draw in DeviantArt and Discord art groups, but those began to fall apart and soon I didn’t have that option either. After that I doodled but didn’t really create Full Pieces unless some friend asked it of me, and it was never a commission bc I’d never trained myself to get that sort of shit done without taking too long, so I’d always do it for free. So even that wasn’t a big motivator eventually. Now that I’m struggling for work after becoming more physically disabled after COVID, all that time I could have spent honing my art skills so I could do SOMETHING with my art really is weighting down on me. I have the option to do freelance work, illustrations, pet commissions, even things like cards and cookies. I’ve seen these avenues open up for me gradually, but I’ve lost the skills I built up that I need to actually make something I’m proud of. I’ve taken to tracing old art to try and remember my thought process and my “style”… but my memory was bad BEFORE the covid, and it’s worse now, and my brain fog makes it hard to focus even if I could get back on the train of thought. I don’t remember the construction that would be in my mind’s eye. I barely can keep a clear vision in my mind’s eye anymore, worryingly. I never had a crystal clear imagination, it was always sort of abstract, but I could see the lines, I could construct a scene. Now I have to focus hard to get any sort of detail clear in my head. It’s like if you tried to look directly into someone’s face in a dream, or put in a prompt in neural blender. So I have to adjust to performing the entire thought process physically, slowly and tediously trying to figure out what I’m imagining before I can really get started. Those old art tutorials for constructing shapes and bodies and such just aren’t coming naturally anymore so I have to dredge deep into my mind to remember which advice helped “click” the best and knowing it might not do it this second time around. It’s like if you forgot how to ride a bike. It was something natural to you, you could even get started haphazardly and distracted and still be able to tell where you were going and not fall over or trip on yourself, but now it’s like you have to focus on each step and it constantly feels like it’s taking everything you have to not crash. I’m glad I can start drawing again, but it hurts that something so huge in my life has been turned into this. I’ve ranted about it before it’s just easier to notice when you’re not sketching out people’s pets or doing super stylized doodles.
#I didn’t know you could max out a ‘text block’ on tumblr also. my indication to stop LOL#long post#vent#kind of. I’m not like super angsty abt it I’m just sad that I have to spend more time remembering#instead of actually accomplishing anything with my dreams. I’m 26 and there’s 18 year olds living my fucking dream yknow#I know you don’t have a certain age requirement for art but I also know you never stop improving#and being set back before I was even proud enough to set prices for my work is kind of devastating#I just love art. I want to be an animator or something involve with creative concepts.#I want to make things I’m proud of. but what used to come easily now feels like chewing nails#the metal ones not the cartilidge. anyway#I know I’m kind of hard on myself but it’s hard not to be when you’re surrounded by people with such talent#and it feels like you’re running behind when you see people getting to their dreams so much sooner than you.#I know it’ll happen but it hurts sometimes remembering what I used to imagine id be doing at this age#and realizing past me probably had more of a chance at these careers than I do right now bc of brain damage and physical and mental issues#it’s not confirmed if I have brain damage but like. I can tell something is different.#it’s not like they’d be able to diagnose it by now or even that it’d change anything#I just have to keep going and keep trying. it’s just discouraging and frustrating#I wish I could summon all the memories from my brain back up so I could feel happier about my art#I’m happy to have the chance to start drawing again don’t get me wrong. I still like to draw. it’s just.#I can tell the difference between how it was and how it is now and it makes me mourn#ough I wish I still had a therapist lmao. Deb get the fuck back here you traitor.
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larrysballetslippers · 7 months
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buriesitsteeth · 9 months
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Hm.
#had a dream about ex-besties again#and when I said ‘I’m sorry hearing briefly about the ab*se I was being subjected to at home and my parent’s su*cide attempts were so#annoying and boring for you. you were my only people I could trust#to open up to in the moment while I was panicking and having to very much#confront the fact that my parent was going to die.#but I’m sorry it was irritating or whatever.’#I was so right#I know friends do not exist as therapists but#I do not see how you can be all ‘oh my guy that’s awful but this this and this are ab*sive behaviours. you act this was because you are#traumatised here read this yeah yeah we need to get you out of there yeah’#one day and then the next just#cut me out like I’m some sort of cancer#if at any point they’d said hey I don’t have the emotional bandwidth rn I’m sorry#I’d have been so understanding and shut the fuck up#genuinely! I get it!#but I don’t see how you can have a friend#who is going through so much and none of it is under their control#who still manages to be there for everyone else when they’re having problems at home including you#who just once every few months needs to go ‘oh shit I need someone to talk to if you’re not busy rn/if you can deal w that atm’ in a LITERAL#CRISIS where they have no one else to lean on#and who will need support if they’re going to eventually leave home#and go ‘meh whatever I’m going to end the friendship in the worst and most damaging way I can think of lol’????#like?? everyone else around me is like oh just move on move on#but I’m just going over and over it in my head#How can you know the wounds and then drive the knife in anyway?#I don’t think people understand like I don’t let anyone close because this is what happens#and so to trust#more than you’ve ever trusted anyone ever#and have them suddenly disappear? without a word?
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elytrafemme · 1 year
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well whoever it was who tried to switch in is gone i think. hashtag slay moment
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