#it’s so obvious why we are exes like i had therapy today and i literally logged onto the zoom session WHILE WE WERE FIGHTING LMFAO

[snzluv3r]

my ex is one of my best friends (in true lesbian fashion of course) and i’m their ‘witness’ for their autism evaluation so i’m staying with them for the week and their cats are ALL over me so i’m all sneezy and an allergic mess.

and they know about the kink so every time i have a sneezing fit they just give me this LOOK like they know how crazy it’s driving me

i am getting absolutely no work done because i am so distracted in multiple ways

[andoqin]

Sisyphus: The Myth Ep 1- A Dissection

Okay, so I’ve had some time to process what I subjected myself to today, so I’ve decided to list everything in episode 1 that is just completely insane and an example of how Not To Do it. 

I’m not an expert on Film Theory, but i’ve watched a shitton of media, plus I watch a lot of Youtube Video essays, so clearly I’m half

The episode starts off okay enough even if we get a weird exposition dump and “tense” parting scene between a father and daughter. 

We start in what presumably is the time travel terminal where people stand around in pyjamas waiting to get through.

Okay, fairly interesting if unspectacular but I’m guessing that’s the point, this is now an industry. We zoom in and get this line that made me laugh, because well...

a) humans are living creatures and b) the amount of microbial organisms on human skin is estimated to be at hundreds of billions, or more. And this kind of time travel/teleportation is always hinky because well if you think about it, how does that even work without getting into The Fly territory. I’m willing to cut this drama some slack here and maybe it’s an awkward translation besides. 

This gets... exceedingly long, but if you want a (too) in-depth summary of what happens in ep 1 and why it doesn’t work (for me) read on :D.

But then the real trouble starts, because PSH’s dad (I’m not bothering to learn the character names) says he’s not going with her and this is apparently very sudden. He then makes her repeat some lines that are supposed to create tension? Be exposition? Idk.

“Don’t trust anyone.” 

“Don’t get involved with [CSW]’s character.”

PSH get’s teary eyed, because her dad is not coming with her, but the problem with scenes like these is: I don’t know either of them and do not have an emotional connection to their parting. Sure, it tells us something about PSH (she likes her dad and is worried about him) but I also don’t know how important her dad is going to be down the line. So when PSH asks about her mom and what if her mom dies and her dad just replies everyone dies at some point I’m a bit weirded out, but not to the point where I necessarily want to know more. 

We then smashcut to PSH waking up in a world that’s more similar to ours and she does what her dad told her to do. She grabs her (very inconvenient) suitcase and runs along the tracks she woke up next to. We see that she is somewhat surprised by the running trains and also hardy enough to track on despite bleeding feet. 

Alas, creepy people in gas-masks with guns and drones are waiting for her, so she runs even harder and after some near misses (they are able to track her by some sort of radiation meter) makes it to safety. 

On top of a train car that the TWO DOZEN PEOPLE WITH GUNS AND DRONES are too stupid to check apparently. Clearly if she’s not under the train car, the detecting devices must be mistaken. So she just chills on top of the train car, sitting on her suitcase and those goons trundle off after 5 minutes presumably like they’re Assassin’s Creed Enemy NPCs.

Now we get introduced to CSW in the most insane scene i’ve ever witnessed. Honestly. 

He is just ~chilling in 1st class in an airplane, filming a douche who is rude to the plane staff and epically owning him because he’s So Smart.

First of all, I don’t know what that has to do with soggy noodles(which the other asshole complained about), since by that measure the noodles should be *undercooked* (lower boiling point means longer cooking time after all) and secondly good lord I already hate this guy. He then proceeds to Epically Own (tm) with a convenient Forbes (sorry “Eorbes”) Magazine that he is on the cover of and flirts with the plane hostess. 

So right off the bat, our impressions of CSW are supposed to be: He’s Cool (look at his hoodie and general bearing), he’s Smart (debatable), he’s nice to The Help (I guess???) stands up to bullies, and most importantly he’s fucking rich. I guess we’re also supposed to get the impression that he’s arrogant, maybe a bit of an asshole, but still cool and everything. 

If this had been where the scene had stopped I would have rolled my eyes and then just continued on watching. But no, the writers thought: “Schooling some sexist rich asshole isn’t enough to show off how Cool and Smart and Cocky our main character is. Also he likes the ladies.” Look at him, he’s Tony Stark only from South Korea!!!

So shortly after he sits down, and we have the first moment with CSW where he connected with me emotionally (he sees the ghost of his dead brother and the way he says “because ... you’re dead.” and I thought OOOH this I can work with), the cockpit windshield is hit by what looks to be a suitcase (DUN DUN DUUUN) and something crashes into one of the engines, causing it to explode and catch fire. 

The pilot is knocked out and unconscious and even the co-pilot loses consciousness (after conveniently unlocking the cockpit lock). CSW is the only one who goes to check on the pilots, having grabbed a fanny pack from his onboard luggage and quickly assessing the situation he revives the copilot and welds the hole in the windshield shut with some ducttape out of his fannypack and a plastic notepad. IT’S VERY EFFECTIVE! They did it in WW2, or so CSW tells us so you know it’s true.

I’m not sure that ‘s how plane windshields and duct tape and plastic notepad thingies work, but well the plane is still in freefall we have more important things to worry about :).

The electrics are all on the fritz, the copilot cannot get control of the plane and so CSW takes a seat in the captains chair (having foisted the captain out of it, not even he is so crass to sit on some unconscious dude’s lap i guess) and quickly calculates that they have 3 min and 30 secs for CSW to restart the electronics before the plane crashes. So he hands the co-pilot HIS PHONE with a timer on it for 3.5 minutes so the co-pilot can tell him when 30 seconds have passed. Instead of idk, contacting Air Traffic Control or ANYONE he just sits there and lets his big boy brain work. 

After 30 seconds he has an idea, because he’s Tony Stark-ing it up like crazy now and can just figure out the electronics of a plane cockpit in 30 seconds, but guess what. HIS PHONE RINGS. AND HE ANSWERS IT, because he’s devil-may-care and “haha look at this, friend, i’m in the cockpit of a crashing plane we have 2 minutes before i’m dead.”

Said friend is calling him from the board meeting of CSWs company, bc of course the board is ~unhappy with CSWs antics (I gotta say I can’t blame them) and the friend doesn’t believe it at first, when he says he’s in a crashing plane, but checks on the news to see it’s true. 

I ... I don’t think news work like that, we’ve gone 5 minutes from the initial troubles till now, there won’t be news reports all over the media yet. THEY’RE NOT EVEN TALKING TO AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL YET. Hell he even tells his friend to call 119 or the airport for help. I just... I’m very forgiving of a lot of things in a drama when it comes to writing. I’m willing to ignore obvious blindspots in a narrative, if I think the narrative is strong enough to support whatever it’s trying to say. At this point what could calling the police or the airport do, they have like 90 seconds left...

I don’t know what the writers are trying to tell me with this scene though? It’s so stupid, so unrealistic and CSW is so unpleasant and weird in it, because he tells his friend that he has to confess to taking out the friend’s college girlfriend on a date while they were still together. 

Well since the drama is longer than one ep, they do make it out alive, but the fact that the co-pilot managed to safely LAND the plane (which is insane to me) gets skipped over and we just get news snippets that herald CSW as a hero who singlehandedly saved the planes passengers. 

We then get to see him in his natural habitat “convalescing” in his giant apartment where he is being showered with gifts by worshippers basically. He continues to be an asshole, but his friend tells him, one more stunt and the board will kick him. 

The board will kick the guy who just saved a plane full of lives????? Yeah right, I’m sorry but that’s just fucking stupid from the writers. Why would anyone do that, even if the board hates him, kicking him now, when he’s literally a national hero would be the worst thing they could do for the stock prices. It’s only here so the writers can shoehorn in that CSW is close to OD-ing on pharmaceuticals and that the board wants to monitor his therapy and they have a way of “forcing” him to comply. 

Also he has what looks to be a dental x-ray machine next to his bed. Someone correct me if I’m wrong but lol what’s up with these set design choices. 

His friend tells him to go to fucking therapy or else and the next scene he is actually at a therapist. 

Who’s his ex-girlfriend (they have a whole tangent about that).

Who writes a report about his therapy to the board. 

But hey at least the therapy gets us a flashback of the last time he saw his brother. Big surprise he was an asshole to him as well, so no wonder he’s traumatised by that.

After therapy he *conveniently* runs into the co-pilot who’s incoherent and beaten up and hands CSW a usb-drive. It contains video of the cockpit on the day of the crash and it’s obvious what struck the plane was a suitcase and what crashed into the engine was a human being (DUN DUN DUUUUUUN maybe someone forgot to convert feet to meters when setting up the time travel thingamabob).

As he looks at the (very pixelated) figure of the person about to crash into the engine, he suddenly sees his brother’s face and honestly this scene just made me laugh? I know it’s supposed to be haunting and more evidence of CSW’s deep trauma, but I guess at this point my brain was just completely checked out. 

And that’s what we end our introductory phase of CSW. What the fuck was that plane thing even for. To show us he’s callous in the face of danger? He’s an asshole even when he’s about to die, so he’s got a long way to go? He’s haunted by the spectre of his dead brother and the guilt he feels for not being there when he died? I got a lot of that before we had the insane Plane Adventure!!! There are literally millions of ways they could have gotten this information to the viewers and not made an absurd spectacle of the plot that means that everything afterwards just feels lame, because you already had the insanity that was this plane ride, so it can only go down tension wise.

Now we’re back to PSH, but honestly her parts are kinda boring and bog-standard “UwU I’m unfamiliar with this way of life, I don’t even know how to eat a banana (that looks *nothing* like a banana btw), so I just eat it peel and root and all. Also I’m from the Future, that means I obviously know todays LOTTERY NUMBERS.”

I know kdramas like clichés and tropes, I like them too, that’s why I watch kdramas, but you gotta give me a bit more if you want me to at least invest in PSH, because I’m sure as hell not invested in CSW. 

She gets taken in by some guy, because we can’t have her homeless all the time, and she needs someone to explain this world to her and also how to eat bananas properly and she opens her suitcase. It’s got both future-tech-y looking stuff and a pink notepad that seems to hold specific information on what needs to happen on certain days. 

She also makes this expression and I don’t know if we’re supposed to laugh because she’s not threatening or if we’re supposed to laugh because she’s not threatening, but we know she’s gonna kick ass later, haha you just thought she was harmless. I gotta say it’s the former for me.

Rarrr fierce Elite Warrior PSH coming to get you.

She tries to get in touch with CSW, already breaking one of her dad’s three commandments. Oh, I guess staying with this guy breaks the other two. Welp, so much for that then. What even was the point of that first scene...

Anyway she tries to get in touch with CSW but ofc you cant just call the richest person ever (Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos would get very angry voicemails from me if that were the case), but she manages to get his voicemail. Or a voicemail he spoke for. But oh no, she is just Not Familiar with this world and keeps having a conversation with the voicemail as if it’s CSW himself. 

CSW who has scienced his way to finding the suitcase that crashed the plane and as she begs his voicemail not to open the suitcase, of course he opens it and gasp the combination for the suitcase lock is his birthday!!! Something his brother used to do!!! 

MAYBE THAT MAN WAS HIS BROTHER AFTER ALL!!!! OH NO!! 

But thank fuck the episode is over now.

VERDICT:

Just no. Don’t do this. The latter half of the show is more standard fare, but the first 25 minutes destroy any capability of this show making sense. I can see what the writers are trying to do, but it’s so hamfisted and badly written I’m just not willing to go along.

If you want a show that also has a fantasy action aspect (and this show is all fantasy no matter how much it tries to science it up), watch LUCA instead. That show at least knows how to set a tone, how to get us invested in the characters and does exposition in a way that doesn’t feel obtrusive. 

[studentville-struggles]

On Set // Part 2

Chris Evans x reader

Multi-part series following the reader’s life on the set of the latest Avengers film

Part 2

Words: 1,504

Warnings: mentions of gaslighting, mentions of emotional abuse, swearing

Massive shout out to @dsakita for being a real-life superhuman, a newfound friend and an amazing person; she helped me edit this chapter so it’s only readable because of her so go check her out

Part 1 // Masterlist

——

“Cat got your tongue, b?” Why couldn’t I have dated anyone else on the planet, literally anyone else? Before you could respond though, Scarlett grabbed your arm and dragged you off, presumably to ask what was going on.  

“What happened with him? You’ve never mentioned a fiancé, so something happened.” Is she actually an assassin in real life?  

“Generic shit you hear from anyone who dated a narcissistic white boy.” Oh, that look isn’t good.

“Elaborate.”

“Everything was perfect. He was nice, supportive, all that jazz, but that was when I was at uni. He was already working and I’ve mentioned to everyone before how much I struggled at uni. When I graduated, got a job and started to really succeed, things changed.” It was so obvious looking back on everything. “Things got a little messy, he couldn’t handle me being successful and not relying on him for support and motivation.”  

“He gaslighted you? Emotional abuse?”

“I don’t think I can truly say he abused me, because it just wasn’t that bad compared to other people I know, people who are truly survivors. But when I became aware of what he was doing; making me think I was useless at my job – a job that required people to rely on me – thinking I wasn’t physically fit enough, not good enough for my rugby team, not eating well enough, not stable enough mentally – not a thing to say to an extremely anxious person! When I realised what he was doing, I noticed it only happened when I was having good days; when I struggled he was so much more affectionate. Honestly, I think the reason I can’t call it abuse is because he never really knew what he was doing, I think he didn’t anyway. Anyway, I noticed, we had an argument that rivalled the war of the roses, minus the deaths and armies, and I left.” It felt good to say all that to someone other than a therapist.  

“The severity doesn’t impact the validity, Y/N. What you experienced must have hurt and that pain is valid. How is it seeing him then?” Girls... Wow. How amazing are they?!

“Odd. I’ve done enough therapy since I auditioned for this role that I have pretty much forgiven him. I am at peace and I know what I’m worth. I’m not scared of him but it’s definitely a little uncomfortable. Though it’s odd having people I knew before watch me act. I barely remembered he was here when I was messing around with Seb and Chris.” Why is she smirking? Soon the smirk changed to confusion.  

“What happened with him just now? Why is Chris so pissed off?” You swooned internally at how sweet and kind it was for him to stick up for you. You relayed what had happened to Scarlett. She smirked again. What is she scheming?

“We don’t have to but this just popped into my head. What do you say to us having them as extras for some other scenes so you can show off how much better your life is a) than his generally because we have one of the most privileged jobs out there – think how much we get to see and do, and b) how much better it is without him in it.”  

“As long as I’m not left alone with him, I could probably manage that.” Forgiveness. We managed that. Socialising is the next step. We can do this.  

“Of course hun, say the word and he’s gone. As soon as it’s too much, he’s gone. This is all about you.” So much love.  

Wandering back to the boys, it seems Seb was glaring at Dave and Robert had moved Chris back, talking him down a bit. Chris was visibly tense and pissed off. You and Scarlett meandered through the crowd of people, you stopped, letting Scarlett go right to the front of the group, staring the boys down. Dave was flanked by two of his work buddies you quite liked before.  

“You’ll do,” Scarlett said after a little pause, staring at the boys. “Since you’re so intent on getting more than a, what were the words used again Chris?” Chris seemed to have an inkling of what was going on.

“A pay attention and a strip show, I seem to remember,” He replied sarcastically.  

“Ah yes.” Scarlett continued. “‘A pay attention and a strip show’. Why don’t you stay on for a couple more scenes? I’m sure we always need more extras. How does a couple extra days work sound boys?” She really turned on the charm at the end; she was definitely going to get her own way.  

I think Dave might have thought flirting with your friend was going to piss you off, and had it been another time, you would have felt insecure. However, now it was just funny. He looked you dead in the eyes before turning with a smirk to Scarlett and replied with a sickly

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Almost instantly Scarlett began walking to towards the directors to put her plan into motion.

Passing you she fake gagged and joked. “God, you really dated that?” You just chuckled at her response to the whole situation. It made you feel a lot better about everything knowing how much everyone had your back.  

Chris came over and put a hand on your back to check in, although he ended up pulling you round into him, his arm basically around your waist and your hand up on his chest to steady yourself.  

“You okay? I know Scarlett’s got this big scheme, but we can just toss him out if you’d prefer?” You gave his arm a squeeze to show you appreciated the gesture and gave him a smile.

“I’m honestly so much better already. Anyway, who doesn’t want to show their glow up to an ex, I mean look at me now.” You winked at Chris before stepping back and doing a little twirl. Everything must have been fine for the banter and flirting to still be there. Chris leaned back and pretended to really look you up and down and think about how you look.

“Yup, definitely worth showing off” Chris nodded before winking back at you.

  “C’mon lets get some food while we have a break you dork,” you laughed back at him, linking an arm through his as you wandered over to the break room area.  

———

You were relaxing, reading through some more of your script when Tom jumped over the back of the sofa and plopped down next to you.  

“Jesus Holland, are you trying to kill me today?” You exclaimed, clutching your chest trying to will your heart to chill out. “Nice use of the emergency call earlier by the way, really appreciated that” you stated sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at him.  

“Always.” He drawled – ever so dramatic. The two of you had become quite familial since hanging out on set, watching everyone else’s scenes and chilling in the evenings. He was the brother you never had. “So I used that because Seb looked pissed and Chis looked murderous – in my defence, I didn’t know it was because your ex was in town. Speaking of which we need to talk.” You really didn’t want to explain it all again today.  

“Tom, I’m sorry but can we do explana-”  

“I don’t care about that right now, you can talk to me about that whenever you’re comfortable to. I trust Scarlett’s handling that whole situation.” He cut you off, though not in a rude way, though it left you wondering what he wanted to talk about. “I want to talk about Chris. Specifically, you and him.”

“I don’t follow.”  

“Flirting on set is normal, I get that. Our main casts living arrangements currently are not.” You were all being put up in a big country home – not like a traditional National Trust country Home, but like a big-ish house a little out towards the countryside – as a way of allowing more switch off from the public. “It’s not a continuation of set banter usually, so why are you two flirting quite so much when we’re at the house?”  

“We aren’t?” At least you didn’t think so.  

“Bullshit, I can feel the sexual tension.”  

“You might wanna see a doctor about that..”

“Y/N!”  

“What, I can’t feel this so-called ‘sexual tension’, you might have an issue!”

“Okay! Fine! Deny the flirting outside of the set, but you two flirt with each other more than any other actors and I stand by that! Also, how do you explain that little arm around thingy you two had going on earlier? I saw that.”  

“Tom, that was concern! Not romance.” You defended

“Whatever you say, bean, I gotta get to hair and makeup. Just think about why your ex turning up made him so angry.” And with like that, Tom walked off again, leaving you with your thoughts on how you and Chris interact. Like earlier, he was just looking out for you, right?  

———

Part 3

Let me know what you think of part 2!

Tags: @dsakita @i-just-wanna-live-gc @dlb113 @ajosieface @greyeyedowl01

[deliadexaerisofficialuniver-blog]

I had to get out a lot of feelings today. I feel like one of the biggest blessings I've had in my life lately (for the past five months now) has been stability, and that was such an important determining factor in a decision I made now about two months ago. Basically after a fight that started when I was venting my depressed feelings, I was pressured to decide whether I was still wanting to try a relationship again with someone, the idea came up of someone moving here where I am now, and after that fight, and really just the whole slew of triggering and degrading conversations, abusive texts, emails, etc. I'd endured in the previous months trying to reconnect to make up for my wrongs in the situation, I decided I wasn't really comfortable with thinking about that, and suddenly I was back on the defensive, which, just no. That made the decision that much easier. It's never okay for someone to use a "no" as a reason to go back on the attack.

It became very obvious that all they ever wanted was control. Since then I've gotten harassing, abusive emails threatening to do whatever it took to ruin my public life, and I have no idea what's gone on since and I still really don't care to know or involve myself in engaging with any of it, and just can't see it ever being the case that I would, or that it could be worth my time in any way. I feel like if I've learned anything from this particular experience of my life, it's that it's not as hard to tell when someone just wants control over you for their own reasons, whatever those reasons may be, as I tried to act like it was, I was just living a life in denial, making excuses for why it was okay for someone else to intentionally sabotage my mental health to the point of sabotaging my stability so many times, and for me to just forgive and forgive and keep taking it without a single sorry, a single acknowledgement.

Basically, I'm not into allowing myself to be provoked anymore. The truth is that if someone really loves you, ever really loved you, when things end, there eventually does come a point when, even if there ever was ugliness, call-outs, whatever it is, it stops. They stop trying to be right and start trying to figure out where they became wrong and fix it, or at the very least, the leave you alone. They stop breaking into what few safe spaces you have for yourself. They don't make it their mission to ruin your life, take everything you have when there's hardly anything left but the will to wake up and say "maybe life will be worth it if I just keep going."

They always had a safe space to go back to, I never had a safe space with them, or to retreat to. Only the barest of what was left of my mental health after the experiences of early 2016 to break over and over again, a process which started pretty immediately, and has basically only ended in the sense that I'm 'choosing not to engage with it, knowing that the only desire there is the desire to break me in every way they can, because they think that just because I let them so many times before means I'll just keep letting them.

Anyway, in new relationships, and living where I've been for 5 months, all I can say about where I am now is that I actually feel like I have a family for the first time in a long time, and unlike last time, in North Carolina, where I got drugged, beaten, raped, told it was punishment for my faults in my marriage, and left to die, it doesn't feel like an illusion. It doesn't feel like it's too good to be true.

There's no fighting, no intentional triggering, no one yelling in my face, laughing in faux disbelief while I cry and beg for space so I can break out of a dissociative self-harm fit and stop cutting until someone else has to literally physically pull them out of my space. There's no fear of the next time I'll get dragged into series of fights that keep me up for days at a time, until I can't even remember what bullshit trap started it. For five months, as long as I've followed my roommates' and therapist's advice of avoiding willfully subjecting myself to a blatantly toxic situation in denial of the obvious truth that no change would ever occur, I've known what it's like to be surrounded by NORMALCY.

I go to work, I come home, my primary treats me like a human being. Our roommates treat me like part of the family. We spend quality time together. We all have our limitations, we all work together to accomplish a functional life. I have an appointment scheduled for my vaginoplasty. I'm getting mental health care in the form of therapy and medication management. I'm finally managing to work through my trauma from 2016 and even before instead of letting it dominate my life. I'm getting to the point where actually putting up content might be possible again. Feeling like I have a voice to talk about important shit feels like it might be possible again. I don't feel the need to fear my partner, or that they've been grab some strand in the web of he said's and she said's. Some of the wires were harder to see at first, maybe some are still invisible even to people who've chosen to catch themselves up in it, but I know where it goes, where it came from, who's willing to say what to maintain the illusion, and who's not worth putting my own life on the line to pull out of it.

Basically all that matters now is that I'm done not listening to my intuitions, I'm done accepting anything less than a world where I'm treated like a human being and don't have to keep myself on guard against crazy-making, abuse, etc.

I'm done letting obsessive people weave their webs around me.

If you ever really loved someone, and you can't get over it, that's a reason to get mental help. If you let it drag you into a war with them, it was never really love. Finally accepting that perspective has empowered me to let go of the pain of wondering who's love was real or not, and even feeling so taken advantage of the times I fell into illusions. I can just accept that if they loved me, things would be different, accept that yes, I was hurt, yes, I was taken advantage of, in my gullibility, but that is in the past. I can make a choice to only accept love that is real. I can make a choice to never rely on anyone but myself to look out for me so that I can never fool myself into believing that fake love is real again just for a semblance of false safety.

A struggle on your own is better than the illusion of safety with someone else who might just be a bomb waiting to go off. I'd rather be free to do what I need to take care of myself, and my new partners, roommates, and friends than trap myself in a world of accepting empty actions that come with endless expectations and price-tags. Love is free, it doesn't come on terms of what's expected in return, especially ownership, and I have to accept how many times I've felt like I basically amounted to a thing that could be owned, bought, through kindness in the past. This is part of what I refuse to ever go back to, that, and the manufactured instability.

That being said, this is *NOT* a post for call-outs, this is *NOT* a post for name-calling, and I'm also absolutely not gonna tolerate people engaging with anyone trying to perpetuate some kind of war in any direction. Do I have things to say? Absolutely. Did I have my faults as well? Yes. I feel as though I've been quite clear to that end. I'm a human being.

So is anyone and everyone I've ever had to deal with violence, social or otherwise, or abuse from in any form. Where I mark the difference is that rarely, some of those people actually make right for it. That's basically happened once, and I dropped everything with it. Once, I've had a former abuser come back to me in order to apologize and make right for it. Every other time, they've chosen to start an obsessive war over my life, and I've basically had the choice to engage it, or ignore it, which I feel like they've taken as their ability to silence me, but I feel like it's possible to speak up about our lives and experiences without engaging in the toxicity, and that's important.

When I get back to content making, that is definitely something I plan to do, because if anything, the entire point of everything any of my abusers have said/done in the time since I escaped has been to try to silence me.

I've been thinking about call-out culture, and my own role in it, and realizing that the biggest disservice we do to ourselves in engaging in it is to give our abusers exactly the attention they want in order to twist whatever they want to the people who may be too close to, or too far from a situation. We allow our abusers to make our lives, our stories about them. We give them the attention they crave and feed off of.

I'm done with it. If I vague-post, it's because I refuse to hand my narrative over to people who only want to hurt me, drag me down, rob me of the life I already robbed myself of for 27 years. If I never speak an ex's name again, it's because I'm done making my life about them when they never deserved it,, and as someone with a long history of Stockholm's and silence in the face of abuse until it's "too late," there's really just not time to get caught up in the details of every minutia of every way anyone has ever chosen to hurt me anyway. That would be getting caught up in resentment, living in the past. I choose to live in the present for the sake of my own future. If other people want to live in the past, that's their choice, but I refuse to let them drag me there.

My life is important to talk about, and so I will, but I can do it without letting people who feel miserable just seeing me not suffering drag me to keep re-living parts of it that are already behind me.

I choose to be who I am today, and never let anyone take that from me again. I refuse to ever let anyone take the changes and growth I've been through from me again for their own twisted desire to make me who I *WAS*. I've been imperfect. I will never not be imperfect, but if I've left something behind me, I refuse to let anyone else shove it back onto me when it will only drag me back down. I choose to be more every day the person I was meant to be, and live the life I was meant to live, and abandon the shell I've outgrown, and used to call "me." I refuse to give my time to anything or anyone who would rather keep me there, whatever their reasons.

I've been a different woman every day since I've come out. Some changes were for the better, sometimes changes have dragged me down, been for the worse, but as change remains the only constant, I will endeavor to keep making it in positive directions. People who want to be a part of that can. People who want to relish in dwelling in the past for the sake of drama or whatever other reason aren't people I'm gonna shed a tear for missing.

Much as I hate to say it, coming out and facing immediate social violence taught me pretty quickly that there's no such thing as any amount of happiness, "good" feelings, etc. in the past of *any* relationship to make it worth carrying around and mourning when people show their true colors, buy into bullshit, etc. Sad as it is, to an extent, this is just a woman's life. Our lives have drama by default. Other women will use that to try to manipulate our lives, the lives around us, any way they can, other women will relish it, and non-women will fall for it every time, and that's just the way it is. So, people in my past can call me whatever they want, it'll never be anything that every other woman hasn't already been called before.

That doesn't mean I have to take it.

I have a stable life now, and I'll find my way to move that life to better places, and share the blessings along the way with the people I love. Sure, I'm sure there will be fights, bad days, nothing will ever be perfect, but it's gotten a lot easier to tell the difference between what's normal, and what's a whole armada of red flags. It's become easier to listen to my intuition and tell the desperate little girl inside full of learned helplessness to shut up, put on her big girl panties and stay away from ever letting that kind of bullshit pull me down into a prison of convenience and lying to myself again.

[chicagogay98]

OCPD: Chapter 3

10/14/97

Here it was. The Saturday we agreed on. I was going to go on a real date with a guy. And with the adorable Scott. And I don’t know what got into me these last few weeks. 3 weeks ago, I would’ve laughed in your face if you told me I’d be going on a date with a guy and stuffing my face with pastries out of nerves beforehand. I guess therapy was really changing me. I took the final bite out of the cherry Danish and thought though the entire date one more time in my head. I’d go to his apartment. I’d ring the knock on the door. He’d open it. He’d have dinner set up in his dining room. We’d talk while eating. But then what? That’s the part that gave me anxiety. The fact that it could go anywhere after that. And I certainly wasn’t ready for that.

I found the nearby alarm clock, and noticed it was still only 3:18. There was still almost 3 hours until I was supposed to be there. Hungry still and with butterflies that made me feel slightly sick, I saw the mostly full box of ensure. I stumbled out of bed, sat on the floor and cut it open without restraint. In an uncharacteristically savage mood, I chugged the whole carton down and felt tightness on my stomach. It actually felt kinda enjoyable. So, I continued with one more. My typically concave stomach seemed like it bulged out ever so slightly. Confused, I realized that I liked how it looked and felt. Dr. Philipps would be proud.

I jumped into the shower, finding it impossible to get my hands off my temporary curves around my midsection, completely fixated on how it felt. I dried off, and put on a size medium slim fit green button-down and size 30x34 black slacks. Being tall, but lanky, this outfit usually fit baggy on my tiny frame. That day though, it looked sexy, as if it was actually made to fit my body perfectly. I finished the look with a belt, even though it wasn’t really necessary. I combed my hair a little differently, and put on my citrus cologne. I usually loved it, but it reminded me of Scott’s licorice scent, and also lemon pound cakes, because those are the shit!

Well I was completely ready, but it was still over an hour to go. I scanned the room once, then twice, and finally a third time, making sure that I was bringing everything I needed and that everything else was in its proper place. I couldn’t fix my roommate’s crap, as much as I wish I could clean the entire place out. I did that once, and he wasn’t pleased. Finally, I looked up at the Virgin Mary plaque in the corner I set up. I immediately fell to my knees, shameful. I guess I was already embarking on an impure mission.

“Heavenly Father and all the saints, please forgive me. I know I’m disobeying you. Take mercy on me, Lord.”

Again, I did that 3 times, still feeling a bit uneasy. I checked my watch. 5:12. I still had plenty of time to walk across town and pick up flowers, before heading to Scott’s place. As I headed to the store, I recognized the woman standing on the front porch. It was my (ex) best friend Kelly’s friend from her nursing classes, Liz. This was going to be an unavoidable confrontation.

“Hey there! Justin, right?”

“Yup”, I looked down at her. “How are you, Liz?”

“Oh, I’m great. Things with me and Greg are going so nicely! Just picking up flowers for our date this evening.”

I suddenly realized, that was probably the most obvious reason a 19-year-old would buy flowers. And I was clearly here on a mission. Liz interrupted my panicked thoughts.

“You look nice too. Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing better. I guess I’ll see you around. And tell Kelly I’m willing to talk if she wants.”

“Will do. Although I thought with those flowers…you were going to see her.”

I settled on a vibrant bouquet of chrysanthemums and promptly paid the $8.95. It felt like such an absolute waste of money- especially now that I didn’t have a job anymore. But I knew Dr. Philipps would be proud of me for spending unnecessarily. Plus, it provided some exercise and something to keep my heart from racing. Hearing that new Sarah McLachlan song sure seemed to describe what I felt about Scott, that he was “building a mystery”.

I knew Scott’s apartment was on the east side of town, but I guess I never really knew what to imagine. I trekked up the stairs in the austere, black building, all the while reading and re-reading the notecard he wrote his address and phone number on. It would be mortifying ringing a stranger’s doorbell. I glanced one last time at the slip, then the door that matched the 302 address, and then my watch, which read 5:58. I smiled at how on time I was, and ringed the doorbell.

Scott opened the door, very much dressed down, and with lightly tousled hair that smelled like that lovely cologne. He pulled me into a big hug, patting my back.

“I’ll take those from you. But you really didn’t have to. I’m just glad that you’re here.” He said flashing a toothy grin.

“I’m glad to be here too. You’ve got a great place.” I said, biting my lip, keeping the part that wanted to criticize how disorganized it seemed to me inside.

“I’ve got an Italian feast prepped for you. Pasta puttanesca, garlic bread, some salad, and something special for dessert.”

“Wow, man. It’s only us two. You trying to fatten me up?”

“Well that’s what the doctor ordered…”

We both laughed and then sat at the small table, almost overflowing with food. Scott served healthy servings of everything on my plate, and then equally large portions on his own.

“Dig in”

I gave one last sign of the cross and a quick prayer- for the food and for what I was about to do. And then gorged as if I didn’t already eat loads today. I started on the salad, only eating it out of politeness, as I really didn’t like salad. I then gorged on the pasta, which was surprisingly hearty and filling, making each mouthful feel increasingly like a brick.

“This is some great stuff, man. Wish you cooked for me everyday.”

“I’d like that…”

I gave him a confused look.

“Oh shit, I forgot the wine. I know that you’re not 21, but is it cool?”

“Definitely.”

Eating something so hearty made me thirsty, and I found myself asking for another glass before finishing my plate.

“You really know how to treat a guy. I’m stuffed.”

“Come on, man. Look at how much leftovers I still have. You’re gonna get me fat if you don’t eat your equal share.”

I took a quick look at Scott’s polo, tight not only around the arms and chest, but also lower.

“It might be too late for that” I watched as his already pale face went ghost white.

“Damn. I thought you were nice…”

“Sorry, man. It’s just some teasing. Didn’t mean it that way.” “You’re good, man...I actually like it. The teasing. And the eating til I’m full. I guess that’s why I haven’t really put an effort to lose this gut.” He lifted it up from his lap. “Want to touch it?”

Thoughts spinning, I nervously replied “yeah”. Firmly, his warm hand grabbed my own, and rather than simply placing it on top of the dome of his gut, he lifted his own polo up and over the sphere, and pushed my hand into his hairy flesh. It was much softer and hairier than I imagined. I gave it a squeeze and noticed how that made Scott’s eyes pop a little more out.

“You like that, big guy?”

He simply nodded, as I stepped up and out of my chair and brought the whole pot of pasta to the table with a clunk. I emptied the contents on both our plates, but mostly my own. Not needing any more words, we dug in into our second helpings. Both of us slowed down, but without the awkwardness, we kept eating- for each other. I started feeling the alcohol, and uncharacteristically gave out a laugh out of nowhere. The big softie, echoed my sentiment, and we just gazed into each other, completely satisfied. He broke the silence.

“Lemme get the dessert”, Scott said, rising up, revealing how swollen his body looked, and how tight his clothes were. He came back with a whole tray of 9 molten lava cakes. Without asking how many I wanted, he placed 3 on both of our plates.

“Dig in.”

Delicious, just like all the other food Scott prepared, it wasn’t too much of a feat, even in my stuffed stupor to down all three. The guy across the table from me was struggling a little however, but trying to keep his cool. Finishing mine before his, I grabbed two more and placed the last one on his plate. He gave me a grunt in recognition and we both continued eating. Completely packed, we both gave a huge sigh, as we leaned back in victory. Everything was eaten clean, except for half of the bowl of salad.

“Good to know that I have another guy that can keep up with my eating. You really impressed me out there, bud.”

“Thanks, Scott. You impressed me too.”

“Wanna come to my couch?”

My heart racing, despite my slurred loss of inhibition, “definitely.”

He didn’t even need to turn on the tv as distraction, instead giving me a complete show. Standing up, he lifted his arms, as the tight polo, lifted, revealing the bottom of his hairy gut, and stopping there on the way down. He gave it all a jiggle, and then simply took it off. I took an audible gasp, as I realized that Scott was literally everything I wanted physically, something I’d never get from a girl. His cute grin took me over the top.

“Scott, I think you’re amazing. I really like you and want to do this again.”

“Good, because that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

He slowly and gingerly undid every button off my green shirt, and then took it off entirely, revealing that I had a small pooch of mostly food overtop my now tight slacks and belt. Without much effort, the pants came off, along with the belt, until we were both in just our boxer briefs. We grabbed a blanket, and just lay there on the couch, the weight of his heavy stomach laying next to mine. The sensation of his belly was truly euphoric. I felt a sharp prick in my shoulder, and suddenly my eyes heavy and my whole perception suddenly black.

[eyesaremosaics]

Driving down portola, I always pass this one psychic. For years I have contemplated going in, and today I finally did. The lady was super nice, triple cancer. She read my palm, said some upsetting things. Said that my life is too chaotic, that I’m being pulled in too many directions. I let other people’s energy invade my space, people take advantage of me… She also said that I am good at many things, and my career path is always changing (true).

“Right now you have a wall, this is a barrier between you and others. The people around you aren’t as bad as you think, you just won’t let love in. You can’t accept it or absorb it. People feel intimidated by you, because you are independent and they can’t get anything from you. Do you have any Scorpio men in your life? I feel the strong presence of a Scorpio man.”

“There are a few. I can’t escape Scorpios. They are always around me.”

“It’s because you act like one. You act hard and remote, but you are very soft inside. You have to dissolve the wall and replace it with a gate. To be opened, or closed if the person or experience is not good for you.”

She told me I am surrounded with powerful people (true). Also that I have wasted my energy giving love that is never returned. Carrying a torch for people who do not truly love me. People who are not connected to me. She says she feels someone coming to me very soon (or they may be in my life already) who is very paternal, warrior energy, a protector.

“You keep drawing people who are not as strong as you. That is why the relationships fail, they are not a match to your energy. You outshine them. You are attracted to these Scorpios, but they need control. It’s always a power struggle between you. I feel you already met your twin flame, you shared dreams with this person. He literally invaded your dreams. He spies on you, and always knows what is happening with you psychically–as well as in your life. Are you carrying a torch for him?”

Me slightly creeped out: “no, I stopped talking to him years ago and accepted that that was never going to work out. I was carrying a torch for him for 8 years, but he treated me horribly. It was degrading my sense of self, and I couldn’t let him abuse me anymore just because I loved him.”

“You have moved past it, but it still hurts you. He hasn’t let you go fully either. I can feel that. He is still very wounded by you.”

“That’s odd. I don’t think I am carrying s torch. Truly. I was for my most recent ex, but he made it very clear…”

“That he does not feel connected to you.”

“Yes.”

“This other Scorpio still feels connected to you. He resents that. He has tried to erase you, but you are too enmeshed. I do not advise you to reconnect with him. You know it won’t go anywhere.”

“Yes, that’s why I am over it now. There is nowhere for it to go. Ever since we ended our connection, I have felt empty inside. It’s hard to go from such a strong connection to a regular relationship.”

“You need someone open to spirituality. Did you read this first persons cards?”

“Yes.”

“Did the magician come up?”

“Yes. The magus. That’s what he goes by. I just want to be his friend.”

“Yes his energy feels that way. I would not advise you to be friends with him. Your connection is too strong. Friendship is not possible.”

“Hmm. Well, I put his energy away. I had to push him to the corner of my mind because there’s nothing I can do about it. It is what it is. I just have to move on.”

“You moved past it, but your wounds are glaring. You have not healed.”

“No. I haven’t. I feel more wounded by my most recent ex to be honest. That shit completely destroyed my self confidence.”

“You are surrounded by his negative energy. You let him get into your head, and you believed his lies and projection to be the truth about you. In all honesty, he always knew you were in a different class than him, he knew you were not a match, but he didn’t want that to be true. Neither did you.”

“Yeah.”

“This person who is coming, is someone you can rest your head on. Someone to protect you. You’ve never had that before. This person will not be there for the rest of your life–I see you being single in your 60’s–but they will be your life partner. The two presences I feel, two true loves, one is the twin flame. The other is coming soon. The first Scorpio you mentioned…” She took my hand tenderly and said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I see this person dying way before his time.”

All interesting. I didn’t give her much to go on, but I know I need to clear my environment and ask for what I need more (her advice to me). I need to focus on my acting and get back in the game. Also her talking about my jadedness, being closed off, not letting people in. She says I’m not improving in that area. I’m getting worse, and I am pushing people away. That’s obvious. All interesting though. I put this person out of mind a long time ago, I don't think of him Much anymore (though he used to be on my brain every day for YEARS), but when I do think of him, I get very angry and upset. I cried about him in therapy the other day, I thought I was long over that. I guess the wound is still there, even if I have moved past it. I just see him differently now. I still love him, I still love all my exes, but I have outgrown them. This one in particular annoys me to no end with his poor life choices. I just had to accept that that is who he is in this lifetime. I accepted him exactly as he is, and I miss our connection, but I know it was not healthy, and that it will never go anywhere. What can I do? Nothing. I can't make people care about me or be nice to me if they don't want to. I refuse to be mistreated anymore. So fucking tired. "You are too talented to feel this way" she said to me. "You are wasting your energy".

[alex-guerin]

Yesterday a friend from work and I went out to eat after we finished our shift and we legit spent 3 hours in McDonald’s, most of that time was spent talking about me and Jason and what’s going on with us right now. Janna is honestly the best person for me to talk to about Jason because, even though she usually works a different shift, she still sees him and works with him a bit too, and generally is able to joke around with him like I do. So she knows him, knows what he’s like, etc. Whereas anyone else I try to talk to about him, they don’t know him. They just know the things I tell them about him. So I generally get responses like, “You need to get over him, it’s never going to happen. You’re just hurting yourself!” or “He’s a player! He keeps telling you he’s not ready for a relationship, but there’s a silent ‘with you’ tagged to the end of that! He’s got his eyes on someone else! He just wants to have his cake and eat it too!” and “He’s a jackass! You need to just cut him out of your life completely! He’s trouble and not worth your time or worthy of your friendship!” 

Janna knows him, though. And so she didn’t say any of those things. Instead she told me how obvious it is that he cares about me. How obvious it is to everyone back there who knows us, and has seen us together, how much he cares about me. That he’s not a player, because if he were a player, he would have been trying to get in my pants as soon as I walked in his door either time I’ve been to his house. How he would have stopped talking to me after he’d “gotten what he wanted”. Instead, he had tried to be good that first night and wasn’t going to kiss me until I had needled him into doing it. He gave me an option of if going to his room was okay or not. Things a player wouldn’t have done. We talked for a good long while about how it sounds like right now he’s confused af, and not sure what he wants. He keeps saying he’s not ready for a relationship, but has been very nearly on the edge of one with me for a long time, and to her it sounds like it’s confusing him -- tearing him in two different directions of wanting to be in a relationship with me, but not feeling as if he’s ready to risk it again just yet. I told her how his ex was the one who left him and took the kids with her, and Janna agreed with me that having that happen to him was no doubt traumatic and has left him scared to let someone get close to him again. 

The great thing about Janna is that she’s been through enough shit in her short life, and has been through treatment and therapy enough, that she’s able to read people and emotions and everything, so she basically told me -- after I filled her in a bit more on what he’s actually like and what he’s like with me and everything -- that not only does he sound like he’s not sure what he wants right now, and is scared, but also sounds like he’s insecure (his hesitance to put his arm over me the last time he and I shared a bed) and has depression -- which explains the being distant with me but still trying to communicate with me and keep me in his life even though he just isn’t showing much interest in anything at the moment. She also said that by me filling in the gaps of his memory with the important conversations me and him had that one Saturday night, that he probably realized he gave away more than he planned to and now is scared because I know these things, things he probably hadn’t meant to tell me. She said he sounds like he’s one of those drunks that’s an honest drunk, and that he wasn’t just telling me things I wanted to hear, that he was telling truths that sober him would be too conscious of to even consider telling me. When I mentioned that he apologized for hurting me by telling me to give up hope, and that he really doesn’t want me to not have hope about there being a chance for us, and that it has absolutely nothing to do with me, that he just really wants to try and be a good father for his kids right now, Janna was quick to point out that given the fact he appears to be a truthful drunk, if he were fucking Purple Hair Chick, then he would have said, “There’s not gonna be an us cuz I’m already sleeping with someone else.” or “look, I’m sorry, but I’m not looking for a relationship because I’m just looking for something causal, which is what I have with Jen.” He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from bringing up someone else if he were already messing around with someone. 

Of course, Janna then had to go on and analyze me. She told me my own anxieties about me and him come from my own insecurities. Which, she’s not wrong. I know I’m insecure as fuck, but that’s cuz no one has ever given me a reason not to be insecure. I have forever been that “great friend, but that’s it”, so the fact that there’s even the slightest possibility of something between me and Jason has me going, “Wait, why me? Why would he want me, when there’s Purple Hair Chick? Or anyone else?” Janna said that my insecurities and self-esteem have me pegged so low that even the lowest of the low (i.e. Purple Hair Chick) rank higher than myself. I’m trying to work on that, I really am. Which is why I’m trying very hard not to keep looking at my phone every 5 minutes and trying very hard not to get disappointed anytime I see I have a text message but it isn’t from him. I know he has his kids this weekend, and at least last night also had a niece over along with them. He’s been busy spending time with them and I know that. So even though there are currently 5 unanswered texts from me to him (three from last night cuz pretty sure he fell asleep, he was struggling to stay awake while we were texting to begin with; and two from today), I’m trying not to let it get to me. I’m also resisting the urge to text him again just to say hi or goodnight or something...not sure how well I’d be able to handle there being SIX unanswered texts sitting there staring back at me. So, I’m trying to leave him be and to let him spend time with his kids. I know he’ll text when he gets the time, or something. He’s not trying to cut me out, I know that. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

He’s already told me once that holidays are hard for him ever since the ex left and took the kids. So Janna suggested I just give him time. Be there for him as much as he’ll let me, don’t abandon him and don’t abandon hope, but just wait things out until after the holidays and see how he acts once they’re over. He’s under a lot of stress right now with work (two helpers who are of next to no help and a manager who is also fairly useless), the holidays (the ex getting pissy because she’s the one buying all the presents for the kids cuz he doesn’t exactly have a way, or the time, to go shopping for any), and on top of it all, his mother is coming into town on the 23rd. Apparently he’s fine with her visiting for a few days, but anything more than that and the shit hits the fan. She’s planning to stay until after New Years; he’s planning to spend as much time at work as possible.

Three people now have told me he sounds like he doesn’t know what he wants right now. Two of those three have told me to give him time, to be there for him; the third told me it’s not fair to me and to put space between me and him. Of the two who told me to give him time, one said he’d pray for me that things will work out between us. I really hope they do. Jason has saved me in so many ways, every day. Little ways and big ways. And I wanna believe that I’ve saved him in ways, too. I know I’ve talked him off ledges before so that he didn’t quit his job and screw things up for himself. He helped me realize I was finally over Eric. Things are so easy with him. I’m normally so awkward in other people’s houses, in his I literally felt instantly at home. Both times I stayed over it felt natural to just go to his room and curl up in bed with him and go to sleep. I want so much to be a part of his life, and for him to be a part of mine. I refuse to believe that everything has just been coincidental about him and me. There’s been too much, too many times. And we’re not gonna discuss the fact that I would like very much to meet his kids one of these days. I don’t think he’s necessarily opposed to the idea of me meeting them, I just haven’t because I know his time with them is limited and I don’t really want to encroach on that. They obviously at least know I’m a friend of his because they asked him to ask me to draw them a Batman symbol (his son) and a unicorn (his daughter). 

People keep asking me what I want for Christmas, and I have to just shrug and say I dunno, cuz in reality what I want is for Jason to at least try to give “us” a chance. Or to tell him I want just one night to pretend like there’s an “us”: I wanna be held, I wanna be kissed, I wanna slow dance in his living room with nothing but the lights on the tree shining, I wanna feel like I’m truly special and important to him (and yes, that includes I want him to take me to bed in a way that has nothing to do with just cuddling up to sleep). That probably sounds desperate or pathetic, and it’d probably backfire on my emotions horribly, but there’s a part of me that believes if I told him that’s what I want for Christmas, he’d probably do it. I just don’t want to risk ruining anything between us. 

Like Janna told me, he’s confused and confusing. And I know I’m definitely confused as fuck still about so many things with him. I just know that my crush on him isn’t fading, at all. It’s still going the opposite direction and is in fact still getting deeper. Probably not a good thing.....

[ratreides]

I move into a little house called the Center full of wanderers and hippiedips in March after a horrible breakup and I would have been homeless if a mutual friend of the ex (Geena) didn't save my ass. I spend the summer trying to rebuild after being cheated on and having a turbo breakdown and quitting my job. For the most part I'm sad and trying to relax and get into therapy and become financially stable. As the summer goes on, center people leave, a previous center-goer Jess moves in, Geena and her boyfriend Jaime coincidentally enough move in. We get told the lease is up in December and G&J want to renew. I'm like fuck yeah. I love this place, love my room. Eventually it comes out that G&J only want to renew for downstairs because up is admittedly old and falling apart. They didn't tell me this at time, or literally until today, but apparently the deal with the landlord was lease downstairs or no lease at all. I don't want downstairs, I'm pretty attached to my window looking at rooftops and trees and sunshine and an elevated patio where people can't see me in my underwear judging them, drawing or whatever I want. Jess isn't fond of downstairs either but we also don't want to move so we say we're in. We all agree that an unstable roomie has to leave, she doesn't take this well and causes us all hell, leaves dishes everywhere, lights on, and is incredibly loud whether it's singing, or borderline physically fighting her boyfriend until 4 am most nights.

Jess and I want the same room, so we have to sort that out. I sit on discussing it with her, as I know the reason she wants it is the studs in the wall for her hammock, and I don't want to be That Asshole and say I'd like it because it faces the sun and I'm a depressed little plant that needs that to grow. Geena comes to us on October 17th with a potential roomie for us but only if he gets a certain room. If I take the room Jess and I both want, she takes potential roomies room. I'm put in a position where I can say I'll take whatever to save us some chaos because we're already at wits end with our crazy roommate, or, I can take the room that's preferable to me and out us a renter 14 days before a new lease is to be signed. I can't even view the whatever I'm taking because the landlord with the keys is MIA until just before movein so everyone knows what they're getting into except me. I know the room faces another building and I'm not happy but in trying to avoid disruption and MORE people moving out on short notice (a trend during the summer months) I don't say anything. I try to take one for the team. I want one where I can get sunlight and see trees, being in the city depresses me and I value feeling isolated and seeing nature but I don't say shit because we're all already losing sleep.

This eats at me until three days ago I come out about the way I'm feeling about it. I get flack for having sat on it this long which ultimately is my fault and I understand that, but I try to explain from a personal standpoint I'm worried about the way the room might affect me. Two days ago the landlord appears and we finally get the keys. The room is worse than I thought; weirdly shaped with an inconvenient curve and outlets, is quite small, the single window gathers little to no natural light and faces a brick wall about seven feet away and the neighbours compost bin, overlooking a pen where a tiny dog is telling all the time. I reinforce that it isn't gonna be good for me and despite desperately not wanting to that I might have to move because this just isn't a healthy option for me and I'm pretty upset by it. Jaime reasons with me and I appreciate his effort but he essentially tells my hermit ass to just spend time in the living room and on a patio where every average joe can see me, next to a parking lot.

It's obvious enough and everyone tells me that I didn't say anything soon enough, that I'm leaving four or so days to find someone to sign the lease and get out. Which is another thing I wasn't aware of until today. I thought I could take the room until I found somewhere else, and there was a new renter lined up, but it turns out we all have to be on the lease until it's up next June. That's probably a no brainer to most but as someone who's been on a lease once out of the five or so places they've lived in the city I wasn't truly aware and I thought paying my rent and deposit for the month while I potentially found somewhere else was suitable.

I do my best to explain that I was trying to be a good guy and avoid headache by saying I would take the room but as I hadn't seen it or gotten a feel for it there was no way to really get ready for living in a dimly lit oblong box. Talking to everyone doesn't help and they all say I should have spoken up sooner and while I ultimately understand that and take the blame for it I'm trying to elaborate on why I felt like I had no other choice. No one else had to make that decision, not Jess, not some dude who isn't even here yet. Me. I tried to be good about it and it was a mistake that I've now realized and I'm trying to be on the same page as them or seek some compromise.

We have a house meeting about it and I'm told my options are suck and sign, or get out in four days and fuck everyone. In group chats Geena elaborated on the struggle everyone's had here or coming here... Except for mine. She says today that none of them wanted to move again in the first place but they were pushing for downstairs, long before I heard anything about the landlord saying it was a make it or break it deal.

I was also apparently ignorant to the group chat while we were seeking a roommate to sign with us, because unbeknownst to me there was someone who didn't care what room they had. I don't know if it was a first come first serve situation but I do know that Geena was aware Jess and I wanted the same room and that Jess wanted different if I took it, so I question why someone who had no preference wasn't an immediate shoe in. I could have said this but I truly didn't read the chat, I suppose, and therefore didn't know about it. That is my fault, but again, I don't see why someone who knew rooms may be an issue wouldn't have reached out to someone who didn't care.

I don't want to move a third time this year. I came to this place for somewhere to rest my head longer than a year. I JUST got my storage and now I'm being told that there's plenty of storage to put it in. I'm on direct route to my only friends and my new job. Rent is affordable. I explain all these things including my point of view and the reason I took the actions I did to the best of my ability but by this point I'm worn out, sad, and feeling defeated and overwhelmed about decisions between taking care of myself and upsetting others.

Eventually the bottom line of the conversation and my decision comes down to Jess saying there's no studs in the room, so she won't take it because she can't have her hammock. So at the end of the day, I look like an asshole, when I was desperately trying to do the opposite, and I feel the people around me preaching new beginnings and community cannot seem to understand where I'm coming from and... Ultimately value someone who hadn't lived here yet and someone having a hammock over my potential wellbeing and seniority within the home. This led to me storming out and saying yeah, I'll sign on for a room with people who feel that way about me, because I really don't have any other options.

I'm trying to regain my ability to comfortably live among others and socialize and feel that I can work and function as an adult and my anxiety about coming out of my room has absolutely skyrocketed. Jaime has been patient to me for this time and I appreciate that immensely because it has been nothing but drama since he moved in but it doesn't shake the stomach upset feeling I have.

My mind works like dominoes and when one section crashes the entirety of the unrest I feel goes with it. I could be upset about my shoddy room and I am but with that I'm thinking about how many times people have indirectly fucked me out of my comfortable living situation, my social anxiety, my process through this year old trying to do what's right, my fighting with depression for years and years.

Not only does it make me angry, but sad. These guys are trying to protect their own asses and I'm empathetic to that but it doesn't change the heartbreak I feel about the current situation. I was amped on getting to know Geena more and working alongside her. We have the same mandatory training dates on the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, and now I'm too scared to talk to her, let alone ask for a ride or be there with her. I understand that it's my fault for not saying something sooner but I felt like I couldn't. She approached me about me signing the lease and moving out and creating a sublet. I was wiping away tears at the time and apologized for shouting, and (I could have worded it much better but was a little frazzled) that I was a little fucked up right now. I mentioned that I feel unstable and unhappy about living with people that are pissed at me she said nothing to either of those statements, furthering my growing need to barrel roll out of the nearest window.

I wanted to be on the same page as everyone else and excited for some kind of new beginning in a community home but if I was antsy about it before I'm just devastated now. I just want to hide. I feel like every time something shakes me my inner dialogue rips me to shreds. I question if I truly can get forwards in this world or if every event is going to cascade me into suicidal ideation and feelings of hopelessness.

I'll suck it the fuck up, I'll live in my shoebox with people I don't trust for the low rent and convenience to my values. I'm not a sketch like our ex roomie and I'm not going to be disruptive and bitchy on purpose. But if it really came down to studs in the wall being prioritized over my protest about the way I feel in small, dimly lit rooms, and how it can affect my depression (especially when it's cold and gloomy), I don't have the patience for kindness and compromises that weren't extended to me. And that makes me really, really fucking sad.