#i am just having the shittiest day ever i had to go to my grandparents house after the most grueling work shift

[coelakanths]

i miss my girlfriend

[theevangelion]

Soulmates: Chapter XV

(Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14)

She had stayed at the park some long time past ten, just standing there, thinking and not thinking, until a ranger had appeared, uniform and khakis, somewhat concerned.

As it turned out, Southview Hill Park was a suicide hot spot.

Cat had laughed when he said that. She laughed, so hard, so violently, that it took her right back to her early twenties. The park ranger clearly thought this was strange, but satisfied she wasn’t a risk to herself, he let her on her way back down the path towards the turn that would lead to a footbridge, then a stroll to the gates that went back out towards city streets.

For all the things Cat knew in this world, this fact was fond and sacred and morbid in the second-most charming way possible, learned at the precise moment she needed to learn it, perhaps if only because the universe felt some semblance of debt it needed to square away.

She now knew why it was Southview Hill Park was the second most-charming view in the city.

And, sooner rather than later, she would take it to the grave, but there was no need to dwell or hurry things along—she had spent nearly fifty years living slow, idle, in her own distinctly Cat Grant way.

Why change now?

She took a car to her townhouse in the west district. The late-night visitor huddled near her doorstep was half expected, but Cat felt no fondness or romanticism for the display. She got out of the car, rolling her eyes, shoving her purse in Kara’s arms so she could open the front door.

“One hour.” Cat hummed. “You can ask whatever questions you want, but then you need to figure out a way home, and never ask me prying questions again, because that is still very much my area of expertise that I spent thirty years building a conglomerate upon...”

“When were you going to tell me?” Kara’s voice broke her heart.

“Never.” Cat remained firm. “Next question—”

“You don’t get to do that!”

“Why?” Cat snatched and turned around, rearing up close beneath the little girl’s nose. “Why do you feel so entitled to my life? For what reason, exactly? Because bippity-boppity boo—a tattoo showed up on your ass cheek one day?” She balked.

Kara’s chin wobbled and her tears refused to fall. “When did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Cat told the truth. “I didn’t until I did. I burned my birthmark off a long time ago, kiddo, you would be surprised how quickly you forget things with some determination and years behind you.”

“So I am…” Kara nodded and fiddled with her hands. “And you are…”

“Kara. Can I level with you a second?”

“Jesus, I would love it if you did.” There was a loathing, hateful fire in her gentle blue eyes.

It made Cat feel a little warm inside.

Almost resistant to the mere idea, Cat forced it away, told it to go fuck itself, shovelled and buried it dead until a certain sense of wherewithal found her again.

“You are so bright, so hungry for life and in love with the world, so let me ask you this and please—enough with the romantic bullshit—just think about your answer.” Cat swallowed hard. “How many happily ever afters do you really know? How many have you really seen with your own two eyes, enough to trust the biggest decision of your life to something as cruel and arbitrary as the universe?”

“Everyone, Cat. Literally, you fucking narcissist, everybody on the fucking planet except you and Lena Luthor get a happily-ever-after.” Kara grew red faced, shaking, too angry to contain any of it. “Here I am, caught in the shittiest love triangle in the history of the world, the literal worst fucking romance story in the duration of forever!” Kara pointed accusingly. “I was happy! I met Lena, and you knew, Cat, you knew what was happening and you let me fall in love with her anyway—”

“Your parents.” Cat felt her eyebrows knit with accusation. “What’s their marriage like?”

“Like…” Kara twisted and thought about it. “Like a marriage? They're quiet, content, happy.”

“Your grandparents?”

“The same.”

“And that's what you want?” Cat scoffed. “The same old safe bet? You don't want to be twenty, and thirty, and forty, falling in love in different ways every day, hating in little unimportant new ways every day?” Cat narrowed in disbelief. “It's cowardly. Beyond that, I am Catherine Grant, and I am nobody's safe bet.”

Kara stood there like a fool. Largely because she was a fool, and Cat never forgot it, but in some moments it felt more distinct and poignant than others. The youth. The age difference. The levels of life experience so vastly different between them that they were playing entirely different games.

It wasn't Kara's fault, Cat understood that, but it did nothing to alleviate her disappointment.

She didn't love Kara.

But for all of her mercurial ways, Cat wanted so much better for her.

“Soulmates aren't safe bets.” Kara's lips trembled in a different way, something other than anger stuck in her throat this time. “Love isn't...quiet or content! It is hopeless, peaceful, madly in love, blissful! It's not cowardly. You, Cat. You are the coward!”

“Alright.” Cat laughed at that. “Your friends? Do they seem… hopelessly, head over heels, madly in love, blissful in their little fairy-tale lives?”

“I don’t get what you’re trying to say…” Kara knew exactly what was being said.

“I’m saying that it’s bullshit, Kara!” Cat emphasised with boisterous, exploding laughter. It was disbelief, not humour, because it felt as though for all of her life she had been the only person in on this absurd joke. “It’s your Instagram page. It’s make-believe. It’s shiny, pretty little exaggerations because everybody is so fucking consumed with this idea of instantaneous and perfect love that when it dawns on them how empty and lacking it all feels…well!” Cat scoffed. “They must feel like they’re the only people in the world who feel such a thing—who have ever felt such a thing—because everybody else is so happy, shiny, and too terribly frightened to admit it either.”

“So, the entire world is fake other than you?” Kara stuck her hands on her hips. “Love isn’t real. It’s all a lie. You don't have a Kara-shaped birthmark somewhere on your body, and this is...what exactly?”

Kara turned and slightly adjusted the waist of her jeans.

There it was on her hip.

Funny.

Cat forgot, for just the briefest moment, what it was they were fighting about.

“Do you believe in free will?” Cat fixed her most formidable, mercurial, serious of stares and stepped forward to the optimist.

Kara scoffed.

“What does that have to do—”

“Do you, or don't you?”

“Sure. Yes, of course I believe in free will. I'm not...” Kara glanced around. “I'm here on my own conviction not because I think the universe is trying to spite you!”

Hesitant, Cat remembered herself, but she nodded at Kara's assessment of things.

“Do you think the woman you are is the same woman you would be if your life had been different, Kara?” Cat reasoned. “Your whole thing is your shitty little boring rural life back home, right? How it made you—defines you in these big crucial ways you need to process your life through and compare back to—do you think you would be the person you are today if you had different influences, or if you had made different choices?” Cat suggested with a slight cock of her head. “I made a decision thirty years ago that cannot be undone, Kara, because it led me to a lifetime of decisions that I wouldn't have gotten the chance to make had I prioritised something as stupid as a soulmate. Whoever that woman is on your hip...” Cat shook her head in repulsion where none was felt. “She isn't me, kiddo, not this version of me.”

“I think you’re right, Cat, because you are being a giant cunt, and I hate saying that to you, firstly because you are sick, and secondly because you are my soul—”

“If you say that word you’re going to find out the hard way why Anne Wintour tripled her security from late 2014 onwards.” Cat folded her arms. “I’m not sick, Kara, I’m just not yours. Thirty years ago? Maybe. I see that, sure, but I’m not some googly-eyed twenty something doing my first lap around the block.” Cat felt her eyes sting and she wished, prayed, hoped to god they would not reveal her.

“It’s not too late,” Kara whispered with reticence.

She was saying it because she was young, stupid, and life had taught her that it was her line in the script. Cat just shook her head, frustrated, ignoring the thump-thumping of her chest and the strange grief that came with a natural love she felt no desire or claim to.

“Kara, I’m sorry, I was nineteen and I made a choice. It was you or it was me, and I chose me.” Cat unbuttoned the bottom of her blouse and pulled it up to her ribs, tilting to the side, so Kara could see where it had one been. “I chose me, Kara, because it’s my life too.”

There was a puckered, silvered little scar that looked like an old burn. It was where Kara’s name had, indeed, once been—some long time before she had even been born.

The scar had healed, and over it, a new name had been tattooed.

Catherine.

“You deserve to be alone,” Kara cried, heartbroken, furious and without words for the things she was feeling.

“I know, kid.” Cat pushed a small smile. “But you? That does not have to be your choice for your life.”

“Good. That's good, because Lena Luthor is twice the woman you could ever dream of being even if you had batted a thousand instead of wasting your life justifying the nasty, callous way you treat people!” Kara seemed as though she was convincing herself more than anyone else.

It was a good thing, in Cat’s books, meant this whole ordeal would be just a little easier on the crybaby when it got to where it was all going.

Kara wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, adjusted her glasses and seemed to itch for a great escape through the front door she was stepping backwards for.

“Oh no, you're going.” Cat deadpanned, expressionless behind the eyes as she extended her palm. “But wait, I was just about to recite sonnets—”

“Fuck you, Cat. I’m going to Lena’s place, to a woman who loves me, and thinks I have inherent value and worth! You want to die alone, lonely, and without love? You go right ahead but don’t think you’re dismantling my self-esteem on your way into the grave!”

“Well fuck.” Cat reached for the bourbon decanter on the table, rolling her eyes, fond despite the temper steaming out her ears. “You know for what it’s worth I think you and I really might have loved each other to death. Sorry you were thirty years late to the party, kiddo.”

[arodrwho]

critrole 2.68 lb

o dang no laura

o texting in again!

once again sam’s ad does not disappoint

o Heck Yeah it’s recap time

“you are dark” “well..yeah” “god now i’m really scared” i love. their interactions

“who do you feel like has it?” “.....they’re all so shifty” nott u dork,,

“i mean caleb has killed his only family members” liAM’S FAC E

also nott jesus christ

“caduceus wouldn’t do that he’s a nice guy” [taliesin cackles] fucking incredible

“what do you mean caleb killed his whole family” “ah, you know, it’s a figure of speech, it’s like--it’s--” “what does the figure of speech mean. like, how would you use it in a sentence?” yasha i love you

“it’s a figure of.....” “frustration?” “yeah it’s the equivalent of...of ‘aw, SNAP’” nott that is the shittiest lie i’ve ever heard. i kind of love it & i love even more that it’s kinda working

“listen caleb has some secrets in his past that maybe i shouldn’t have mentioned. i can’t think straight right now i can’t think straight i’m jonesing hard” NOTT. STOP. u almost played that off but oh my gOD u fuck’d the hell up

“so he did kill his whole family?” “i....i not grandparents or anything, there could be extended family--” a) i doubt it, & b) noTT WHAT THE HELL

“i was trying to do the thing” :(( am sorry it didn’t work but also yasha i love u. +2 autism yasha

“i’m learning how to people” +12 autism yasha!!!!!!!!!

god. every time i hope nott & caleb might start to repair the distance between them sth like this happens & it makes me So Sad

“do u ever wonder what is on the other side” “of the bridge?” “o that too” caleb i fucking love you

“little too concerned with what’s going on in this life before i start worrying about what’s...beyond” “i don’t know that i worry about it i’m curious though”

“i assume my version of whatever it is, it’s not great” oh boy

“oh... i wouldn’t think that way. if everyone was judged by those standards, i think it doesn’t look great for a lot of us. i mean. i guess what i’m saying is i’ll be joining you i guess” “oh well maybe you can call down several stories to me and say hello” “u want a berry?” “u want a drink”

“are you keeping it from nott or are you keeping it for nott?” “i don’t know really. these are good” cale b

“and it’s been nice to see her with him. i a little bit don’t know what to do with myself as much. it’s very awkward we. developed a unique relationship and i feel awkward. you know she used to. we slept on the side of the road a lot and would sleep next to each other in the cold and i feel strangely foolish about it it didn’t feel foolish before but it does now. these have a little bit of an aftertaste” ok 1, arosads fuckin CONFIRMED. my fic would’ve been so TIMELY if i’d finished & posted it this week. ah well. this weekend prolly. this weekend......... & 2, i love. caleb’s offhand comments scattered throughout this. that’s very autistic of him. i love him so much

“u feel awkward because of a close relationship with a friend?” “a little bit she has found herself or found what she is looking for. not entirely but uh. i i i don’t know what we’re talking about. we just had a. routine. i like routines somewhat” AUTISM. and also more arosads confirmed.

“feeling replaced? are you jealous?” “a bit probably a little bit” “that actually makes me feel kind of reassured. it’s like the most basic human emotion so. you’re not a total lost cause” “euh” “that was a joke. god fuck i need to work on my jokes” “no i know” “i need to work on my delivery. my delivery is just--” “you are very deadpan yeah” AUTISM

“she’s still ur friend u know that right” “yeah” “no matter what she goes off and does. you’ll always be partners. at least that memory of being partners at a certain time of your life” /sadface liam “yeah. yeah. anyway. well i guess i’m just going to think about the good days ?” “mmhmm. think about the good days”

“thousand yard stare into the void, past the bridge” :(((((((((((((

“i just kinda stay up for an extra five minutes and stare at the group for a bit” :(((((((((((((((((((((((

“i am yeah. i discovered that a smile and a laugh is a good way of infuriating your siblings when they’re trying to get to you” god i love caduceus

also taliesin u are killing me

w/the continually refusing to say precisely how many sibs

it is making me WORRIED that the reason u are not saying might perhaps be bc u don’t. know if u should count the dead ones

which. fair

and he also probably doesn’t know how many dead ones there are

which. SAD

anyway SKELLETOR. u called it a corpse immediately after & now all i can think is that conversation 

cad is having trouble thinking this through. i’mma mark this down for an autism

“caleb would know” “i was thinking about magic what did you say?” o caleb....

“without saying anything i just slowly send one of the globules to go dancing around nott’s head” caleb. i love the u

“kill your ho--hopes and dreams of. no i would never do that nott” good save yasha i love. u

notttttt

what the fuck is this. sam what the fuck

oh good rolls!

hhhh’oh boy 13 for traps. that’s frightening

i thought it was blessing of the trickster? is it just bless? okay

ohhhhhh no

“laura’s calling” lmfao

“i love you bye” lmao nice

“i think caleb is just quietly sweating bc he’s feeling caduceus’s huge weight make the bridge behind him go [sound effects]” incredible

[jester voice] “tell my storyyyy” amazin

HI I’M SCARED

I’M MORE SCARED

B E A U

caleb is handflapping!!!!!!!!!!!!! ffUCk yeah

liam is doing an stim now w/whatever he’s holding & i choose to believe caleb is stimming w/soMEthing in this moment

god i’m so weak for caleb stims

“my eyes are watering cos i’m crying from fear” fjord. i love you

aw hell another wis save

FOK.

fjord, caleb, & nott

je ee eeez caleb ok cool

thank god they both rolled low

“it’s gonna be terrible, it was a natural 20″ lmAO good job nott. i love u congratualtions fuck yeah

“looks like water almost it’s textured weird & it’s moving weird. it looks like tar or oil but it’s not textured like tar or oil it looks like skin” jESUS

MAT T WHAT THE FUCK

i love this but WHAT THE FUCK

nott what the fuck. nott. nott you are going to fucking die

nOTT THAT’S SOMEHOW WORSE

that’s so many fucking natural 20s y’all i’m very afraid for ur luck later

ah, there are the low rolls. in the initiative

fjord please...,,

beau, buddy,,,

NOTT

DDDDDDDD:

he’s gonna not do the thing???? oh. oh okay i guESS

JESTER BUDDY,,,,

i’m having so many emotions

I’M HAVING SO MANY EMOTIONS

nott is always making self-sacrificial moves for others & someone hasnow done it for her (beau & caleb have got close, but on this particular level--only jester i think has managed it & i am. feeling things. how very dare y’all)

goddang that’s a lot of nat 20s

“talieSIN ur a warlock” goddamn incredible

oof yasha, buddy,,,,

aw tal

i love u

oof. nott

oh thank god they made it

SIDENOTE but i have very specific priorities.......... & those priorities are aro & autistic content. ship content? i’m immune.

beau/jester moments? immune. fjord/jester moments? immune. nott/jester moments? immune.

completely & totally immune.

i care only abt caleb’s arosads & caleb’n’nott content & everybody being super duper autistic

& i find this. amusing

i’m sorry travis but that’s a terrible jester voice

OH the dead body they took

very neat

sidenote.

“the laughing hand. timeless & seeking the torment of all. the undying chosen” jeeeeeez creepy i like it

“mind uh, sending your, your, your parrot--” “it’s a cat” gotta love cad not knowing anything abt nature, & caleb insisting always that frumpkin is a cat even when is not catshaped

crystal barrier u say? is caleb gonna have feelings abt that or nah

WH AT DID I MISS

i stopped paying attention for fiV E SECONDS

ok i got a recap i’m good i’m good

did u just say BITE ATTACK

what the FUCK

aCID????

fJORD WHY UR WIS IS SO LOW

ur not to know this though

& thank u for wanting to help yasha

even if it was. perhaps illadvised it was kind & good

oh jeez the mirror’s gone ?

dagger???? dagger?????????? magic dagger ??

yasha KILLED HER DOUBLE,,,,,

ohohohohoho good job fjord

oh DANG caleb?? u say caleb?????

ohhhh

that’s SO MANY nat 20s

oh jeez why can’t anyone else get in

oof caddy dude

“u run over and there is no crystal wall on that side” [high pitched] “hWAT”

beau my dude,

BUG DAMAGE

nice nice nice nice nice

“i found a thing over here by the way” i love u cad

was pulling that knife right out the best idea?

mmmm

oh i guess it was

“hey look at this” god i love caduceus

i feel like half of what i say in these liveblogs is that i love characters

& u know what. i’m valid

fjord oh my god i love you

....u see.

lmao beau’s fists up, fjord ain’t think that through

no frumpkin vision????????

interesting....................

wait what. hollow??

what is hollow what’d i miss

oooooo music

music music

EYYYYYYYY

thank u laura/jester

oh jeez un angel

oh dang the dagger

ohhhh dear. angel. eyes bleeding

what. did they unlock

i’m worried.............

OH it’s over already oh dang

oh dang oh dang oh dang

hot DIGGety dang

well! that sure all did happen

this was a Lot and i am Delighted

thank u @critrole cast for this episode

[death-knight7]

the main reasons why i haven’t been the most active in the past long while

be warned, these deals a lot about my personal life and mental health so it’s going to get heavy, don’t click the read more if you think you don’t care or simply feel like you shouldn’t read it.

So in the past 8 months, my life has been an utter shit show. 

End of last year i was nearly kicked out of my home if i didn’t find a job simply because i fucked up some things i was doing around the house. Right off the bat this is difficult for me because almost all of the jobs in a RETIREMENT county like mine are going to be entirely nurses or doctors, things that require a degree to apply to.

thankfully i managed to a job and it was great for the next three or so months before my family and i were forced to move due to an argument between my mother and her boyfriend. There’s alot to unpack there but i won’t go deep into it. AFTER THAT, we moved in with my grandparents.

I’m still here but after a few months my mom and my youngest brother went back to the boyfriends house for whatever fucking reason. Now it’s just me, my sister and my grandparents and aunt living together on their property (sort of, i live in a back house, same property, different building with cheap rent.)

Now here’s where things really made a dive bomb maneuver. About a month after moving back out of my grandparents place my mom started asking for money. Which honestly, no big deal, not exorbitant amounts, 100$ 200$ max (it;s still alot for me, but i’ll get to why i didn’t mind as much back then.) i would give it to her and she would pay me back when she got paid next so it was never a big issue as long as i was getting my money back.

Then she would start asking for more and wouldn’t pay me any back, or would pay very little back and totally forget about the rest. Now i’m starting to get stressed out because i do have some bils to pay, nothing extreme (yet) and have to start really managing my money.

Mind you while this is going on, i am 20 years old, i get paid once a month and am only paid like a buck and a half more than minimum wage. I DON’T MAKE A LOT OF CASH AND HAVE TO SAVE IT A LOT. Then i go to the hospital BECAUSE I AM STARVING MYSELF BECAUSE MY BODY CAN’T HANDLE ANY FOOD OR LIQUID THAT ISN’T CLEAR OR UNSEASONED TO THE POINT OF TASTING LIKE DIRT

One ER trip later and i;m paying off the shittiest hospital in my county to stay off my heels long enough while trying to balance rent, and other bills as well as trying to stay alive enough to go to work to make money to manage all these fucking things.

AND THEN.

My mental health takes a dive

I’ve never been clinically diagnosed but i’m pretty sure i’v had depression since my middle school days. It was never to bad and i would have lows but i would eventually bounce back and be my normal moody self not my depressed moody self. It got even better in high school when i stopped being moody and things were going fairly well for me.Shit happened between then and this current cycle but lets say that this shit has a history of repeating itself.

It has gotten to the point where i am tired All. The. Time. And i can’t wait to go back to sleep and hate waking up so much to the point of nearly getting upset for it. Now it’s to the point where i hate both myself and this ever growing trench of self perpetuating agony caused by my inabilty to say No for once in my fucking life but have zero energy or motivation to work towards bettering myself or even wanting to get better in the first place. 

It’s all self imposed, doesn’t mean it isn’t fair in the first place. Who knows maybe im just making an excuse for not being motivated to do something that i originally poured so much of my soul into and feel bad about it (but if that were the case why won’t i try something new?). 

Regardless, I’m at a very low point in my life at the moment and all of the above are reasons why. If you’ve made it this far you’re probably too dedicated about me as a person and probably don’t follow my main blog enough to see or read the shit i post there.

Anyways, Cheers - from someone who will always be your DK

[psychedelicpriscila]

I find it quite ironic that you believe I fear guilt. Especially since that emotion has been so strongly recognized and felt within my being during the past month; so much to the point of me crying to my parents and closest friends multiple times about you and how I hurt the kindest person I’ve ever come across. I don’t know where you got the idea that me walking away (hurting you) was easy for me to do. You, yourself, watched me cry my eyes out when I was forced to accept the fact that you would no longer be a part of my life. I voiced my pain to you explicitly; and it was the farthest thing from easy. My dad asked about you again and I asked him to please stop doing so because it hurt too much to even hear your name; let alone talk about why or how things ended. I do not resent you for hating me, I never will. I am, however, sorry that you feel that way. I know it’s incredibly easy to misunderstand me or why I do the things I do; I, myself, don’t understand me either sometimes. Even my dad said that what I did doesn’t make sense, that leaving you didn’t coincide with me loving you. He said I left you the way my mom left him; and that karma would come back to haunt me for this. Hearing him say that made me want to crash the car I was driving at the time of that conversation. Why would karma come back to hurt me when I never intended to hurt you in the first place? What the fuck is so awful about me fulfilling my own personal needs for once? Why does it feel like everyone I love is out to make it seem like I’m some monster? I had already been feeling like a bad person, and him saying that only amplified my self-hatred. He made me park the car and asked why I was crying and why I left if I really did still love you. I answered his questions with things I already explained to you; things I hoped you would understand but clearly didn’t. I grew up in a broken household. My mom expressed to my brother and I, day after day (literally every single day), that she regretted marrying her first love. That she wishes she would’ve given herself the chance to know other people before deciding who to share her entire life with. I watched her life crumble down alongside my entire family’s, and she always blamed it on that sole aspect. I don’t think you’ll ever comprehend the tremendous amount of anxiety that that ingrained in me. I am very aware that you are nothing like my dad; and that you would never hurt me the way he hurt my mom or myself. But you were not there to experience my upbringing, nor were your friends, or your parents, or whomever else may have stimulated or encouraged your hatred towards me. I’ve been brought up to fear settling down with my first love. I’ve been indoctrinated to need to experience more than just one person; regardless of whether or not my first love is the perfect person. It’s like, all my life, I’ve been conditioned to have to do this; and I’m sorry that it had to be with you. It is not simply a “petty desire”. It’s a fear that I have to overcome, and this is the only way I will. When I explained this to my dad (a person who was actually there to experience what I’m talking about), tears still rolling down my face, he too became teary-eyed and even apologized to me for his involuntary role in this. He said something along the lines of: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that about karma getting back at you, or you being a bad person for leaving him. That was just me being angry at your mom. You’re nothing like your mom. You remind me a lot of myself actually. You feel so much and yet you always aim to conceal the effect that that has on you. I want you to know that you’re not a bad person. You’ve been through shit that not many people have; partly because of my own faults, and I’m sorry. I’m sure, if any other child were to suffer through what you have, that child would turn out to be the shittiest of people; a person filled with hate and cruel intentions. But you are not. You’re too empathetic and kind; and I honestly don’t know how that’s even possible. I’m very proud of you and I’m very sorry that your mother and I have had such a lasting and hurtful effect on you and your own relationships. It’s not fair to you and you didn’t deserve that.” At this point, we were both crying and it was kind of beautiful; I never thought I’d see the day when my dad apologized for his past actions. Those words touched me deeply and I realized that, yeah; he’s right. I’m just too fucking hard on myself to realize this on my own: I am not a shitty person. It’s okay if you believe that I am; but at least I won’t feel this inordinate guilt anymore. I’ll no longer go through life believing that my leaving makes me a bad person. I will no longer feel guilty for feeling happy or for listening to my own needs. I know that, to those ignorant of my situation, it may seem like I’m heartless and had ill intentions all along; but I know that that isn’t true. And that is all that matters. I have always been afraid of love. I told you this from the start. I made it known to you that you were the first person I ever allowed myself to love, that I had never loved anyone before you out of my immense fear of loving/being loved. If there’s one thing I fear, it is love; not guilt. Hell, now I feel guilty for even loving you. I’m sorry I subjected you to my love; I never meant for it to end in pain or anger... or for it to lead you to fear love as well. I guess we do have differing definitions for what love is. No one, not my parents or my grandparents, not even my aunts or uncles; literally no one ever provided me with a clear/healthy/positive example of what love is supposed to be. Every relationship that I was exposed to/a part of throughout my life taught me that love is meant to be painful. That those who love you most will be the ones who hurt you the most. A part of me always knew this was untrue. And so, with this fucked up knowledge and these shitty examples of love, I crafted my own definition for love; designed to resemble my own wounds. If you love someone, you’ll always want what’s best for them. I am not what’s best for you; at least not now. Maybe I never will be. I require too much freedom. I have an urging need to do things that I know you would not agree with; and I cannot rest until I do those things. If I didn’t love you, I would’ve stayed and done those things anyway. After all, my mom always told me that dating someone doesn’t mean you’re married to them; and therefore, you have the right to see other people. I also knew that that wasn’t morally correct. I know that me leaving you hurt you. But I was only protecting you from further pain that I very easily could have caused. I’ve been feeling an overwhelming amount of guilt for needing to follow through with these “petty desires”. But the truth is, they are not simply petty desires. I don’t believe a single one of my actions has been done out of pure pettiness. It’s something that I HAVE to do for myself. I legitimately cannot not do this. I don’t expect you, or anyone, to understand this need of mine. It would be foolish of me to spite you for not understanding. I’ve come to the unfortunate realization that there is no way to make someone understand the reason behind my actions; when that reason is something they have never been exposed to. And that exposure is required in order to comprehend. Although it kills me to read those hateful words coming from you, I understand your point of view; and I take those words as a sign of you moving forward and away from grief. Which is all I want. You wrote: “I’m allowed to be angry about it, even though you don’t care if I hate you, as you’ve actually said to me.” You’re right. You have every single right to be angry. But if you’re going to write my words for everyone to read, at least do so completely and not in halves. You once told me that there was no way for you to heal from a break-up aside from hating the other person. I hoped that that wouldn’t be the case for us. Still, I asked you to hate me if that’s what it took for you to heal; which it seemingly was. I told you that it would cause me incredible pain for you to hate me, and THAT is the part I don’t care about. I don’t care about the pain your hate causes me, so long as it means that you’re doing better. And I’m not bringing this up for you to feel bad for me, or for you to feel bad for hating me. I just wanted to clear that up, in case it got lost in translation. It’s not surprising that you’re experiencing such hate, considering the fact that you’ve been seeing old friends of yours who only ever knew me in three different, yet equally unenlightened, forms: (1) the girl who stole you from your ex; i.e., their friend [to that girl, I’m also sorry], (2) the reason why you stopped hanging out with them, and (3) the ex who broke your heart for whatever petty and selfish reason. They never knew me the way you once did, and maybe their presence is what has dimmed your perspective of me. Which is reasonable, I would also hate someone who hurt my friend. You say you don’t know who I am now, as if I’ve somehow changed. I wanted to remain friends, to remain in touch, to continue knowing such a beautiful soul and for you to continue knowing me, even if it was just as friends; but you didn’t and I respect that. But please don’t mourn for a part of me that is still here. You’re the one who decided to no longer know that person. Perhaps that part of me died in your eyes when our relationship died; but I still only desire to do good things. The fact that I’m soul searching in a way that you don’t understand does not mean I’ve changed, or that I’ve suddenly lost whatever good I had. Maybe my substance use or my curiosity or my “physical thrills” have made you believe that I’m a bad person, but I’m not; and those things do not make me a bad person. I’ve spent too much of my life believing that I am a shitty person; that that was the reason why I had to deal with all the shit I’ve been through. But I have never been and I am not a bad person. Go ahead and allow yourself to be angry, hate me all you want; but please don’t spend too much time at this stage of loss. Hate, anger, resentment, etc., they aren’t worth your time; and you know that you’re better than that. Life is way too fucking short to waste your time on negative emotions. Once you’re done feeling this way, do yourself a favor and allow yourself to love freely; romantically, platonically, or whatever. Just please don’t let anger eat you from the inside out, that would be a shame. I still find myself crying sometimes because you were my best friend and I lost you. Your absence hurts but I’m happy for you. Since you hardly want to see me, I’ll save you the trouble. You can throw away my pills. I won’t make that call. I won’t subject you to anymore of my painful presence. I care about you too much to make you see me again. Please, at least, do me one favor though. Don’t mention my name if you’re only going to say bad things about me. Don’t mention my name to people who you know will only say bad things about me. Believe me, I’ve had nothing but positive things to say about your presence in my life. So please, keep my name out of your mouth if it will only be followed by hateful words. I’m not a bad person and I don't deserve people to be talking about me as though I am. I guess I, too, am just writing this for my own realization and healing. We’re both healing. We’re both growing. It sucks that I won’t be there to experience your growth with you, but I guess that’s life; we can't always get what we want. I will always want what’s best for you though. And so, according to my definition of love, I will always have love for you. That’s another thing about me that will never change.

[weeklyhumorist]

I'm the 47-Pound Raccoon That Goes Through Your Trash Every Thanksgiving, and I've Decided to Stay Home This Year

Dear Aunt Marissa,

I want you to know that this was not a decision I came to lightly. It was only after a long discussion with my 53-pound raccoon wife and our seven 25-pound raccoon children that we have decided to decline your kind offer to spend Thanksgiving with you and yours. You may not remember extending an invitation, but the untouched casserole Larry threw out the window when you weren’t looking did all the talking.

We want you to know that this in no way changes how we feel about you. We intend to spend many a coming Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, and just general Monday through Friday nights with you. We feel truly blessed to have you in our lives, whether you know you are in our lives or not. This Thanksgiving, just like every other, I give thanks for your company, that your husband and your children absolutely despise your cooking, and that you have the flimsiest, shittiest trash can lids in all of New Jersey.

That being said, we are very disappointed in you.

We really thought you would be taking this virus seriously after losing Vinny to rabies from a raccoon bite that definitely did not involve either of my seven 25-pound children. Maybe the raccoon that bit him also had Covid-19, you never know. But after hearing your conversation with Sheryl while I was shredding a chicken carcass in your recycling bin, I have to say I am quite upset. You’ve invited all the grandparents, aunts and uncles, in-laws, cousins, the cousins’ cousins, and even the Abramovich’s from up the street. Mrs. Abramovich never throws out any large quantities of noodle kugel, and their trash can lids are bolted down. I don’t trust that they are taking this pandemic seriously for one second.

And Sheryl is bringing the new guy she’s seeing? She’s known him for what, 72 hours? When is someone going to pull that poor woman aside and tell her that these men are just in it for the bean dip and flat-screen TV? C’mon Sheryl.

I expected more from you. And also more bundt cake? I haven’t seen that in the trash for a while. At the end of the day, this is about the safety of my family. Obviously, I’d much rather spend the day listening to you and Larry argue over which is the “good silverware” while scarfing down the first botched turkey of the day that is both so raw and so overcooked I almost break a tooth. But this is 2020, and we can’t have nice things, now can we Marissa?

Instead, we will be spending Thanksgiving in our hole in the ground. Instead of feasting on the nice warm pumpkin cheese pie that Rebecca always brings but nobody likes, we will have to make do with a frozen Thanksgiving casserole surprise you made four years ago. Do you ever think of anyone besides yourself?

We don’t have cable in our hole in the ground. Do you know how hard it is to keep track of how many interceptions the Cowboys throw from a hole?

But the reality is, we just can’t take the risk this year. As much as I would love to send my in-laws to dumpster heaven early, the 53-pound wife would leave me for the 97-pound opossum that’s living in your garage.

If it seems like you’ve straightened out your priorities, we might drop by for some latkes and applesauce on the sixth night of Hanukkah. But until then, you’re going to have a very full trash-can and a very empty heart.

Best wishes,

Chuckles

I’m the 47-Pound Raccoon That Goes Through Your Trash Every Thanksgiving, and I’ve Decided to Stay Home This Year was originally published on Weekly Humorist

[misadventuresofthatoregongirl]

A little background... I am 27 years old. I have a 9 year old. I have been with his father since I was 12 years old, I have never “dated” anyone else. I have seen others, but never been in a relationship with anyone else. in January 2019 my little brother (we were 4 years apart and very lose) was left for dead by police after he got in a car wreck and had a head injury. He had a pulse for 30 minutes yet was never taken to the hospital, that was 10 minutes away. A week later some rich yuppie blew their entire head off with a shotgun, 80 miles away from the hospital, had no pulse, but was air lifted to the hospital. I strongly feel my brother was left for dead due to the fact he had unpaid fines. Mostly due to no car insurance or “driving while suspended” over no car insurance. But I know only blacks matter in this country, not some mutt who is half native american half white. That has been made ABUNDUNTLY CLEAR. 

If you are one of those stupid cunts with the “driving is a privilege” bullshit mindset, (driving to work should not be a privilege should be a basic human right and “ride the bus” only big cities have busses and many people have to commute to larger cities in Oregon) when basic liability insurance is about $300 a month for people who are never on mommy and daddys insurance, please kindly fuck off. Housing in Oregon is insane, already, most people have half or more of their money going to rent if they can manage to get somewhere to rent to them at all, they should not have to have another 1/4th or more of their income going to basic liability insurance when they have never even had a ticket. I went through the same shit. Eventually police would just wait in the parking lot for me to leave work and just ticket me over and over, I was denied a hardship permit that is also such a scam. Pay a bunch of money for something you aren’t even guaranteed to get. I drove 1000 miles a week just to get to work, because I could not find work in the rural area I live in not could I afford the $1500 a month rent in the city that has jobs (that’s basically how much I made a month) it is what is is. I had no choice. 

Paying for car insurance crippled me financially. I was actually split up with his father at that time but had to come crawling back begging for money due to my $300 basic liability insurance. The tickets are not even on my record anymore, for driving with no insurance and driving while suspended but its still $260 a month. Absolutely sickening. I don’t have a fucking dime left over after i pay bills, and my boyfriend works and we STILL have no fucking money. Ever. We don’t get to go on vacations, we live in the shittiest neighborhood in the entire county, in a shit trailer, drive shitty cars, I assure you we have nothing nice. Nicest thing he had is probably his work boots which were paid for by his boss, working your ass off in Oregon does not pay off. “Get a better job” no shit sherlock, did it ever occur to you its difficult to not get fired from your job you are currently working, and still go to interviews? Employers be like “I know you have a job currently but can you drop everything and come in an hour?” Oh yeah, totally. And if you try and schedule it for a time maybe you won’t get fired its usually “Nevermind.” And the interview process is a begging a groveling process like you’re a god damn peasant. Why do I want this job? MONEY! Why else! Why does anyone want any job? I worked at a staffing agency for 4 years and I can not tell you how many people did well at those stupid cookie cutter questions but were shit workers. I wish places would just let you work a day or two and see. 

Then I got laid off as soon as stupid corona hit in March, they already fired my office manager and a sales person “over discounted bill rates”. Kinda like how the Dollar Tree stays in business because its cheap but more volume is sold (worked there before too that was horrible) so they have just as much profit if not more, as say Walgreens or something. With corporate clowns coming down and saying to clients basically pay the full rate or we are taking you to court, to 3/4 of the clients, sales tanked. They tried to blame corona but the sales were complete shit before that as soon as they fired the two people who had most of the sales, with discounted bill rates. I am still friends with someone who managed to not get fired. They said in a conference call this week they announced they would be lowering bill rates. *Face palm* now that you fired hundreds of people, you are lowering bill rates. How many lives did you ruin before coming to your senses? Companies here are just so fucking awful!

A few years ago I decided I wanted to move out of the country. However if you have a child, both parents have to sign a passport form unless you don’t have the father listed on the birth certificate. Norway in particular I like, its beautiful, free healthcare, minimum wage twice that of Oregon with cheaper rent and free healthcare, they also help with childcare. They claim they do in Oregon but your “copay” is usually so high you might as well just pay out of pocket and not deal with all the states controlling bullshit you have to deal with when you get state assistance. People like to say “Norway has higher taxes” please shut up and go look at Oregon’s income tax rate. One of the highest in the country. Expensive gas, INSANE housing, its just not possible to have a decent life here in Oregon. I love the ocean also. Norway is beautiful and comes in the top countries for quality of life every year, meanwhile USA is at the very bottom. 

Everyone called me paranoid all those years, I just had a bad feeling that something bad was going to happen also and I needed to get out while I still could. Next remark “how can you afford to get there if you are so broke?” Simple don’t pay my outrageous rent and insurance for 1 month problem solved. My child’s father finally agreed to sign the passport form now that its too late and Americans are banned from basically every country in the world, once the racism and virus bullshit started. Super awesome. He will never hear the end of that from me. Its been months and I still do not even have the passport. Even if I did I AM TRAPPED HERE!!!!!!!!!! I can not even go to fucking Canada!

I decided ok, I will try and move to Montana/Idaho/North Dakota or something. Give up my ocean in attempts to get the hell away from all this mask and the non existent “racism” bullshit. Go somewhere with a lower cost of living, more jobs with higher wages. I absolutely can not stand wearing the face masks. There is no evidence they work, just go look at Sweden. Or the states I just named which have no mask laws. Also a lot of rural areas in Oregon do not wear them seems like the entire populations would have been sick or dead. I am not looking to argue with scared little sheep over this. Before you say “I hope your grandparents die” because I don’t wear them, something that I have seen many people say to myself and anyone else without a mask, my grandparents have said many times they would rather be dead than be completely isolated over some bullshit virus with a higher survival rate than the flu. Plus the media has lied so much, how can you believe a word they say? Seriously? They are all left winged biased. I am not even a conservative and I can see it. But people just eat the shit up. That 26 year old who they claimed died in Oregon from coronavirus, turns out did not even have the virus the CDC medical examiner said. So you choose for yourself what to believe. 

I did get a job in Montana very easily. In six fucking months in Oregon I had maybe 5 phone calls for a job, all minimum wage no benefit shit jobs. I did 2 years of business and law classes, 4 years of heavy payroll and accounting for work so its not like I have absolutely no experience in anything worth a fuck. Plus 8 years total of customer service or more I have been working since I was 18 with gaps here and there between jobs. But with my boyfriend and son back in Oregon, 900 miles away, it was really difficult. I had never been alone like that or even stayed a night away from my child. Never in 9 years. First of all staying in some shitty hotel... I hate hotels in general I like my little nest, as shitty as my house may be, even at a nice hotel I would rather sleep in my own shitty bed. I lasted 2 weeks, only having $100  week leftover for food and other bills spending $400 a week at the cheapest motel I could find, before I gave up. I could not save money for a deposit or loan and my boyfriend has absolutely no credit so he could not get approved for a loan or rental either. He also had absolutely no one to watch our child back in Oregon with everything being closed so he could not work during that time and almost lost the job he had. Done landscaping for 11 years and still only makes $2 above minimum wage because companies treat employees like such shit in Oregon. I was so close, had a decent pay (way more than I ever made in Oregon even though Montana has a lower minimum wage) with benefits, but it was impossible to move into a rental. My credit is good enough for a loan, but I could not save money for a down payment staying in a hotel. Plus I was so lonely and miserable. Now winter is coming and we will not be able to go back and forth in that snow in little cars anyways.

If we would have succeeded, I would have gotten us into a rental and then quit as soon as he got a job because we never have anyone to watch our child and the cost of living is so much lower we would not HAVE to both work like we do here in Oregon. Especially now. Seriously, what the fuck do they expect people with kids to do? Schools are closed and even if they weren’t there is no way in hell I would send my kid wearing a mask all day. SO bad for you! They have to wear them all day “except at lunch” ok so might as well just take the damn things off the entire day. These rules don’t even make sense how do people not see that? Or in a restaurant you have to wear them if you walk to the bathroom but not at the table what logic is that? How do people not see through this bullshit? And children are gross they touch everything masks are going to do shit at schools. Notice the schools that did open, masks or no masks still had a shitload of cases. Single parents are especially screwed in particular. I guess if you could somehow both find employers willing to work with your schedule (good luck with that) you could constantly work opposite shifts as your partner/spouse and never seen them and work. 

Anyways, jobs for him paid more up there too, rent is fucking half of what it is in Oregon. Their average rent is the price of “low income housing” in Oregon. But we just could not do it. I tried. I tried so hard. I even learned Norwegian jeg snakker norsk und ich spreche auch Deutsch because Austria was another country I was interested in. You can try and try and try here, but unless you get lucky, or your parents help you, I do not know how people do it. All the old people I know here don’t have enough money to live off either after working 50 years. Its so sad.

I am no perfect person either. I am pretty bitchy, I have horrible anxiety I quit public school at age 12 and finished online, yes I have a high school diploma. I actually did all my high school schooling in 2 years after skipping 3 years of school with no problem. I never even really went to middle school and still managed. I am not stupid. I just have a hard time doing things I am absolutely miserable doing.

I will go into more detail, year by year on what a shitshow it is to live in the USA but in particular Oregon. The entire west Coast really. I hate it here and I just want out but I have tried everything. 

[just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms]

My AKF Story

Below the cut is going to be a hella personal post. Don’t feel obligated to read it. I’m sharing it because I think there is something to be learned from it. I’m sharing it because I have a feeling a lot of other people will understand. 

Since I was 2 years old I would hyperventilate and have a panic attack any time a bug even as small as a fruit fly was near me. I am still 23 and have an internal panic attack. I was told I was over dramatic. 

It took me until I was 11 years old before I could hold my face under the water in the shower without panicking and screaming in terror. I was told I was a drama queen. 

I was 22 when I learned how to drive on the freeway without holding my breath and white-knuckling the steering wheel. I was told I was over cautious. 

My mind always spiraled out of control and I would end up hyperventilating, crying, and screaming when I got anxious about something and go to worst case scenario. I was told to “cut the act” and “get over it.” 

I did not seek out friends to go and hang out with/play with since I was bullied non-stop through 4th and 5th grade until I was in college. I was told I was being antisocial. 

Every single parent-teacher conference my parents went to, they heard the same thing. “Ana never talks, hardly gets out of her chair unless it’s absolutely necessary, plays by herself at recess, and is extremely respectful to staff.” Every single conference from kindergarten to senior year of high school. 

I dropped out of all group sports, came home and watched hours of TV and movies without moving since 5th grade. I was told I was lazy and unmotivated. 

My mom told me I looked horrible one day and I said she’s been effectively saying that since I was 11. She said bullshit and when I told her that she has been saying I’ve been “carrying extra weight” since I was 11, all she did was shrug her shoulders and go “well you were.”

I”m not good at mental math, I never had been. My parents used to sit at the dinner table and quiz me. Rapid fire mental math. When my younger brother who’s good at math would answer before me, I got yelled at. How can you expect to figure out a tip at a restaurant? How can you ever pay your bills? How can you make change? How can you do any job ever because you can’t do math?

Fun fact, the nursing program I’m in makes us take pharmacology math exams every single trimester to make sure we can do drug and IV calculations. These are very precise and tricky calculations you can mess up easily with all the numbers, conversions, etc. You need a 100% to pass. If a unit is off or you rounded wrong, you failed. Patients deserve perfection. 

I have never once failed one of those exams.  

Depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts/actions are RAMPANT on both sides of my family. My parents were the ones to push their parents into therapy and onto medication. 

But me? Nope. 

I was just over dramatic, over cautious, lazy, unmotivated, antisocial, and stupid. 

And all of this, this is just the tip of the iceberg. 

I finally, after shit got super bad for me mentally, went to a psychiatrist and am starting with a new therapist. I’m finally getting medicated. I was diagnosed with major depression and severe anxiety. 

My mothers response? None of this surprises me, I’ve been worried about you for months. 

MONTHS. YEARS. All this time and no one said anything. 

I’m not saying they are trained professionals. But maybe don’t blame everything on your kid. Maybe try and engage with them instead of yelling at them. Maybe try and make them feel like you are worried about them, and not like if they tell you how they are feeling, they will be blamed for it. 

I AM NOT STUPID. I AM NOT OVER DRAMATIC. I AM NOT LAZY. I AM NOT UNMOTIVATED.

With no help from anyone I have forced myself to be functional and get shit done, because despite being treated like shit, I still needed to be there to help everyone. I have never been unemployed and have been going to school straight through graduating high school to become a nurse despite transferring schools, a nasty divorce for my parents, and losing two grandparents, among a shit ton of other things.

I’ve started taking charge of my life and pushing back against the way my parents treat me. My fiance doesn’t like being around them because it somehow always turns into picking on me and making fun of me for things that make me anxious. 

And despite all of this horrible treatment from the people that are supposed to love you, guess what I think after writing all this? 

I’m the shittiest daughter ever because they did their best, gave me a roof over my head, and cloths and presents. 

Bobby Singer would slap me so hard right now. 

That’s a parents job. That’s nothing special. 

They apparently saw all the signs, and no one spoke up. 

I guess, at the end of all of this, I just want to say:

When you see someone exhibiting any signs of anxiety and depression, even if just for a day, SPEAK THE FUCK UP. You’re doing absolutely no good sitting there and thinking about it. Help them out. Ask how they are doing. Say it’s good to see them. 

SOMETHING to make them realize that you see them, and you know they aren’t okay despite what they are saying. 

SPEAK THE FUCK UP.

And another thing, Bobby Singer said it best. “Kids ain’t supposed to be grateful. They’re supposed to eat your food and break your heart.” 

That’s my AKF story up till this point. I’ve made it to today, so I’m going to fight to make it till tomorrow. 

Seeking treatment isn’t easy, but I felt amazing making that appointment. I feel even a little better after one day of medications, because I know I am taking charge. 

It’s my life, and I deserve to be happy in it. 

It’s your life, and you decide to be happy in it too. So fight for that. 

[spacecadetayayron]

Not gonna lie, it's been a rough month for me. Probably the hardest month on my life. I went through finals not knowing if I was going to pass my classes or not. Never in my life have I been that afraid to fail a class, and I don't think I've ever been closer. But once my toughest week finals was done I had a sense of relief. Pass or fail it was over, but my troubles had only began. I came home to find out that my dog Pelé, that I've raised since his birth had fell really ill while I was taking finals. My parents were smart enough not to tell me until I got home. He's been my best friend since I was 9 years old, and to see him being weak and barely able to stand hit me hard. He was in such sad shape, my mom and I had to hand feed him food, otherwise he wouldn't eat. We found out later that he had two types of anemia. One where his bones did not produce enough red blood cells and another where his immune system attacked his red blood cells. When we brought home to the animal hospital he was nearly dead. His red blood cell count was at 6% when it should be anywhere between 30% and 50%. If we had taken him a day later he wouldn't of made it. After a blood transfusion, a diagnosis, and a prescription of a shit ton of pills (all of which costed $1500) he was nearly back to his old self. Even though he was looking better I knew that he didn't have too much time left. I thought he would pass after I left back for school. Now before I complete Pelé's story lets talk about what happened the day after I got back home. I woke up that morning and everything was totally normal when my mom received a call. It was really quiet for a second and then I heard a very panicked "oh shit". Turns out my grandmother of 88 years old fell and broke her hip. Now for someone who is in their early twenties or teens like I assume most people reading this are, a broken hip isn't a huge deal. Yeah it hurts like hell, but we will make it no problem. When you get to your elder years you become more susceptible to things like infection, and you heal a LOT slower. These were things I didn't think about at the time. When my dad was leaving to check on his mother being transported to the hospital, I saw him cry...like way more than I've seen him do in a long ass time. My mom told me right afterwards that his grandmother died from an infection that was made possible by her breaking her hip. Note that great grandma died after I was born, and 90s medical knowledge was definitely capable of treating such a thing. But when you are 93 there is only so much you can do. It then dawned on me that my grandmother was in a lot of danger. After a surgery and some PT she got sent home where she is today. We are just hoping to God that she doesn't fall again, but knowing her and how stubborn she is, she probably will from not using her walker that the Physical Trainer fucking taught her to do. I just don't know if she can make it through another one. Now note that all that went on at the same time that Pelé was having issues and it happened around this holiday season. I love this time of year but it's hard to be jolly when you don't know if the the people you love will live to see Christmas or New Years. I was really afraid of the holidays being a downer for me for the rest of my life. The one time of year where I can relax and enjoy the people around me crowded by thoughts of loss and death. Thankfully that didn't entirely happen. After the visit to the vet Pelé started to improve. He had more energy and he was actually eating on his own! He still wasn't completely himself, but it was much better than how he was before. A week after the initial visit to the doggy hospital we went to have more blood work done to see if his medicine was working. It turned out that it had been working quite well. He still wasn't at optimal with his scores, but he was improving a lot. Not even a week later Pelé started to act weird. He acted like he hurt his leg. It was like he couldn't use it to walk. We thought it might of be sore from the vet drawing blood from him so we didn't think too much of it. On the day after New Years I woke up with my mom laying on the couch beside Pelé. This wasn't weird because the medicine he was taking caused him to use the bathroom a lot so my mom would sleep beside him to let him out every few hours. She told me that he wasn't eating much of all and I noticed that he didn't even try to look up at me. I had to bring my self to his level for him to do so. I left that morning to my GF's house hoping that he would improve. Not even 2 hours later my mom calls Cameryn (my GF) crying on the phone. Pelé had suffered a really harsh seizure and wasn't hardly responding to anything. She told Cam to drive me to the vets office where we would meet them. She called Cam because she knew that I was going to drive like hellfire to get to him if she called me. On the way to the vet with tears in my eyes and a hyperventilating voice I told Cameryn "this is it...I'm losing my dog today". My mom and my neighbor TK got to the vet same time me and Cam did. TK is a good friend of ours and he had to lift up Pelé because my mom just couldn't do it. When we got out of our cars my mom and I walked towards each other, and I have never seen her face so red. I could tell she had been crying hard since it happened. I asked her if he was always gone and he wasn't. TK went to grab him and I couldn't hardly watch. I never wanted to see Pelé like that, but I had to be there for him. We brought him in and he wasn't moving. He was breathing and his eyes were open but he wasn't moving. My mom and I were wrecks. My mom was trying to tell doctor Allen what happened and she barely got though it. Not long after we had been there he started to seize again. All of us took a hand in holding him still while he was being given a sedative to knock him unconscious so that he wouldn't seize. The entire time his body was uncontrollably shaking I was losing it. I didn't hold back my emotions. I was watching my best friend die in my arms in one of the ugliest ways possible. The table was covered in piss, drool, fur, and blood and so were my sleeves minus the blood. He seized one more time before my dad showed up. He drove an hour and a half from my grandparents place to our hometown. He was with them to get them reacquainted with home. After the 3rd seizure Dr. Allen gave him s really strong sedative that knocked him out quick. When dad showed up Pelé was asleep, but not even a minute after him arriving Pelé seized again. Note that I don't see my dad cry very often let alone ugly cry, but he did right there in that vet office on that foggy and rainy day. Allen explained to us that it was a neurological infection on the brain that was causing the seizures. It makes sense that an infection grew, because Pelé's meds caused his immune system to be less effective. It had to in order for him to fight the anemia. Pelé was dealt one of the shittiest hands as far as physical health goes. He was being attacked on three fronts. We had the option to try using strong antibiotics on him, but it wasn't guaranteed too work and we didn't know how much damage the infection had already done. I would say that I was a tough choice to have him pass, but there really wasn't much of a choice in the eyes of me and my parents. We couldn't stand to watch him suffer anymore. We had done all that we could do. When Pelé was being put down I wanted to stay in the room with him until the bitter end, but as soon as his body had a natural convulsion I lost my fucking mind and barged through everyone and to door to get out. I was already traumatized by the seizures, and the to have my final moments with him being him twitching and pissing everywhere made me go mad. Looking back on it I've never cried that hard in my entire life. It wasn't even loud. I could hardly breath, everything hurt, and and I wanted to vomit. TK came out and talked to me trying to calm me down. After a minute or two I mustered all that I could to go back and be with Pelé. As soon as I got to the table that he was on he completely passed. To this day it doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem real that he isn't breathing any more or in my hallway right now at 4 AM sleeping. My parents and I held each other long and hard. It was like we lost a member of the family. Our family of 4 was now a trio and it tore us up. When Dr. Allen brought the cardboard coffin into the room I told them I was going to put him in there. I wanted to truly be there from his beginning to his end. I lifted his still warm limp furry body and laid him gingerly into the box as if he were still alive. My final image of him was his body curled up as though he was cold and asleep while in that cardboard box. I rubbed his head and belly one last time and said, "goodbye old buddy. I'm gonna miss you". We carted him off back home and buried him in my parent's backyard with a circle of rocks indicating where he permanently lays. It's been almost a week and I still get teary eyed every time I look at his grave through our kitchen window. What really gets me though is the little things. Me being at home has totally changed. I don't have to watch out for him when I get up off of furniture. I don't have to fill his water or food bowl any more. His metal dog tags don't wake me up in the middle of the night. I don't hear his claws scratch against the hardwood floor. But what gets me the most is that I won't see that happy black and white face through our glass door to greet me when I come home. I will never see that dopey smile ever again and I am losing it typing that thought out right now. The morning after he died I found my mother laying on the couch red faced again but asleep and covered in a tiny blanket. Her and I cried a lot that day. And the next day. Even my dad is taking it just as hard as us. He gets hit hard by the door greeting thing too. I've never seen my parents hysterically sad before, and i never thought it would be over a dog. Now looking on it though, Pelé was like another child to them. After I left for college that's all they had. For 4 years he was it. He was their kid... Death is an ugly fucking thing, and you don't know how it will be ugly when someone you know goes, but what out shines the ugliness is the beauty of life. It's hard not to think of my last moments with Pelé. The images haunt me everyday, but I have to look at the beautiful life he live with me and my parents. I have to remember that we gave him a great life and in turn he vastly improved mine. He help me though a lot of hard times. I just wish he was here to do so one last time. He truly was my best friend.

[missykitten987]

It Always Gets Better

About this time 6 years ago I was in a dark place. I had moved out of my parents house about 5 months prior with my boyfriend at the time. 4 months after I moved in with him he cheated. I refused to move back in with my parents (a pride thing) and began renting a room from what I thought was a friend. I was drinking (and only 17) heavily, and the alcohol being supplied by that older “friend”. I was drinking so heavily I remember nights where I would just lay on the floor too drunk to get up and go to bed. 

Fast forward to March of 2014. I made the decision to move to another county to live with my grandparents while I got my shit together and got my high school diploma. On March 2nd 2014 while moving I was in a bad car accident on the interstate and it totaled my vehicle. I was now jobless, carless, and having to stay with my parents because I had no way to get to my grandparents with all my belongings and expect them to drive me around.

Fast forward to March 25th of the same year. A family friend offered to cosign to help me get a car and I would have to make monthly payments. I was only 18 and didn’t really think about how difficult it would be for me to pay a $350 car payment every month on part time and still working on my HS diploma through Adult High School. But regardless I got the car and it got me to my grandparents and initially that was great and I was feeling a bit better about life. On April 8th of 2014 I began talking to my now husband on OkCupid. I was wary but we met and had a date on the 12th and he asked me to be his girlfriend on the 14th in the MOST adorable way. He said “I have a job opening and I was wondering if you’d want it.” Of course, I took that job happily. Now this guy...he paid for me to get gas and I didn’t even ask. I was low, but I had plans to ask my grandparents for some help to get me through the school week. But he straight up looked at my gas needle and told me to drive over to the gas station and filled my tank up. I was in shock!

Fast forward to the last weekend of June in 2014. My mother asked if I would house sit and watch our family friend’s son for the weekend. I agreed and asked if Josh would come with me. He agreed and we had an awesome weekend, even took the kid to Carowinds and spent the entire day. That night, exhausted, we laid in bed and he asked me to move in with him. I couldn’t say no. It felt just right. On July 1st I moved in with him with my only belongings, a suitcase of clothes and my laptop. It’s all I had to bring to the relationship and he had a house and everything else we needed. 

Now the next year was filled with a lot of hard times. We both weren’t making much money and I ended up having to give the car back because I just couldn’t make those payments. I got depressed again and began drinking again. Josh pulled me out of that and told me that I couldn’t behave that way. At first I was offended! However, I wasn’t even old enough to be doing what I was doing and he was actually right.

He proposed after I got my shit straight and it was in the middle of the night at 3am after we had went for a random drive. I was standing in the dining room fiddling with my shoes and I turned around and there he was. Illuminated by the hallway light and on one knee. He had my promise ring in his hand and asked me to marry him. I didn’t care that it wasn’t some diamond ring, all that mattered was that this man, flawed as he was, and flawed as I am, was asking me to be with him for life. I said yes!

We got married in September of 2015 in the courthouse with our parents, and my grandmother present. I could never have asked for a better way.

About 4 months later, shortly after my birthday, I got a call from my mom. My step father, who I very much consider/considered my father had had cancer found in his liver. I was absolutely devastated, but my mother assured that it seemed localized and he should be fine after some chemo and radiation. 

3 months after that it was found out that during a surgery to place a stent on his pancreas, they found the true cause of the cancer in his liver. He pancreas was ate up with it and it had spread. Things began to look very dim.

1 year later on May 21st my mother called me to say that he was passing. She couldn’t even shower because he would try and get up to do something, and would fall and hurt himself. I broke. I was working full time but left suddenly to help my mother, with my husband’s support. He drove down there every night after work (a 1 and a half hour drive) to see me and make sure I was ok. Over the course of the next three days I witnessed someone who I didn’t recognize slowly dying. It was the MOST painful thing I had ever been a part of. My mother had to let me use her xanax just so that I could stay calm throughout the day and not be going crazy.

On the morning of May 24th my mother and I awoke at 6 am to give my step father a dose of his pain medication (essentially just keeping him in a pain med coma) and then we laid back down, me sleeping on the love seat, her on the big couch, and my step dad in his hospice issued bed that they brought to her home. I woke back up around 8am and noticed that I no longer heard the raspy breathing that I had been falling asleep to the last few nights. I knew something was wrong. I got up and put my finger under his nose, nothing. Felt his cheek, cold. All I remember saying was “Mama...he’s gone. Mama” and after that that day is kind of a blur. 

2 days later my mother had went to run a race to calm her mind and I stayed behind at the house. Her friend came into the room and uttered words I never thought I would hear. My step brother (who I very much considered to be my brother) had been found unresponsive that morning and was rushed to the hospital. When we arrived at the hospital we found out he had gotten into my step father’s pain meds and took some very serious medication that stopped him breathing. 2 days later on the day of my step father’s funeral, we were informed that he did not make it. In the span of one month. I had lost my Grandfather on the 2nd. My step father on the 24th. And my step brother on the 28th. Devastated doesn’t even begin to cover how I felt.

I felt empty. I didn’t know how to function. The night of the funeral for my step father my husband came to take me home and I remember just sitting on the bed, unable to stop crying. How could I go on after 3 of my family members were lost so quickly? I couldn’t function. 

Eventually I returned to work and I wasn’t myself. I was smoking so much pot at the time that it was insane how much we were spending. But, my husband went along with it for a while. 

Come September of 2017 my husband said we needed to stop buying it. It was a money pit and was distracting me from how I was feeling. He told me that he could tell I hadn’t been myself in months. I reluctantly agreed and was literally the biggest bitch for over a month while I got over not having my crutch anymore. He stayed strong through those months and I could not have been more grateful. 

January of 2018 I decided that I would start a Phlebotomy course because I knew my step father would be happy for me to be in the medical field. I slowly started to get myself back. I was no longer going to sit and be sad because none of those family members I lost would have wanted that for me. They would have wanted me to be happy and to make something of myself.

I finished that course with amazing grades. 

Fast forward to this year. My husband and I started trying for a baby in January. We went through some things just prior to starting trying and the trust between us was not great. Sometimes I wonder if we should have started trying on the heels of that. But through many fights, and discussions where we were both in tears, we made it through that distrust and started to trust one another again. 

In August I sat, once again, peeing on so many sticks I was near bankrupting us just from buying them lol! But this time...I saw a line. I swore I did! So, at 5am I texted my mother and she confirmed what I saw. It took us 8 months, but finally, after so many tears after getting my period, I am pregnant!

On Saturday I’ll be 13 weeks and even though I know it’s not likely, I’m still terrified something is going to be wrong with my baby. But regardless of that, my Doctor reassures me that me and baby are healthy.

The point of all this is simply put. It gets better.

You have to go through the shittiest things in life sometimes before you get to the good stuff. There are ups and downs and sometimes you just don’t know how to do it anymore, but you HAVE to figure it out. It’s hard but you can do it and the rewards on the other end are so worth it. 

[anonymouslifespan-blog]

Chapter 1

Hey.

So, this is the first chapter of my life when I thought all was fine and I had no care in the world. First things first, people are very good at hiding things when it comes down to what they need. When I was still a young kid around the ages 3-5 or 6, I thought I had it all, I thought my mom was perfect and that she did everything right. Turns out, she was the shittiest person ever. As a kid, I thought constantly getting taken away and being visited by child and family services was a normal thing. It was the only thing I knew so obviously you will think its normal. I thought everyone had to go through that. I didn't know that it meant something was truly wrong. Lets take a couple steps back now. My mother had me when she was 17 years old and in a abusive relationship with my biological father who she thought she had to stay with because she was “in love”. I have never met my father. I have but only when I was about 2 years old so I do not have any image of him in my head. When my mom was a teenager she started doing drugs and drinking and all that stuff you obviously would think is normal. A teenager trying drugs an alcohol is a normal thing right? But little did she knew, it ruined her entire future. When I came along she kind of got her shit together but was still with my father. When she was pregnant with me he was still abusing her so there were a lot of problems with me being born. When I was born, the abuse continued. He would lock her in closets, beat her endlessly , everything, take me away for days on end with not being in contact with her whatsoever so nobody ever knew where I was. As time went on and things continuously got worse child services started getting involved. I was in and out of foster homes like crazy. I have a very vague image of the foster homes. During this period of time, when I was once with my mother, my father came and took me to his house. I have an image of the room I was locked in all night long. It was a very dark and cold room and I remember just praying that he wouldn’t come in. But of course, he did come into the room and was very abusive. Keep in mind I am still very very young at this point. Maybe 2 or 3 years old and I remember so clearly. After this point, I was finally sent back with my mother for a long period of time. I was hoping that the abuse towards me and her would stop. It did for a while. But her drug abuse did not stop. She met my sisters dad. Things were good for a while but little did i know, they were at the point of doing hard drugs like heroin and cocaine. They were dealing, doing it, stealing thousands upon thousands from family members. So many terrible things and I didn't see anything wrong with it because it's what I grew up, its all I knew. Now I am finally in 6th grade at this point, still dealing with years of abuse and fighting and running away from home to friends house and family members house. This time in 6th grade was different. I got off the bus and ran to my apartment like I normally would, and the only person there was my older cousin. He said they had gone to the store so I wanted to wait for them because I had finished a project I worked so hard on and couldn't wait to show them. Then, my grandmother showed up. I was so excited and ran downstairs to see her but was confused because she only came on weekends. I had realized that something must have been wrong because she wasn't saying much and seemed very upset. We waited for my sister to get home from school and then she told us to pack some things because we were gonna be staying with her for a little while. She finally told me what was going on and I didn't really realize till the next day when I was in school and I just completely broke down crying saying how someone took away my parents because i still didn't understand the full aspect of what happened. A couple days of staying with my grandparents, someone had bailed my parents out so we had to go back with them. They kept everything on the DL because they continued doing everything they were doing. A couple months went on and then they made the announcement that we were moving out of the town I grew up in and thats when everything started changing again..

Until Chapter 2...