#my life is very uncertain and stressful and will be for At least until november

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

k i thiiiiink i'm gonna close my inbox for a Bit bc there is... so much in there... and more gets buried with each new ask & i Want to get to them all! but there are ninety-five (95!) asks in that box rn. and i know from experience that if i don't take care of it that number will build to ungodly levels, and then it'll get so overwhelming i won't be able to get myself to answer Any <3

[lovelyspencers]

Paper Rings

Synopsis: Spencer and pregnant fem!Reader spontaneously get married in Las Vegas

Word Count: 1.3k

Content Warnings: allusions to sex

❝ I like shiny things but I’d marry you in paper rings ❞

Y/N and Spencer exit the clinic his mother is placed in with their hands intertwined as she traces mindless patterns on the back of it and occasionally gives it a gentle squeeze.

The November air is flush and he had wrapped her up in his grey cardigan and the scarf he had knitted her for Christmas. Besides being a genius, his measures had been terribly wrong and she looked like the purple wool ate her alive every time she wore it.

Still, she looks adorable. The cold paints her nose in a faint red and he stops in his tracks solely to place a kiss atop of it, admiring how she scrunches her nose in response and he can’t stop himself from peppering her face with kisses.

She’s wearing the same sweater she wore on the night they first met, except the baby blue garment with puffy clouds on them looks way better under the soft glow of the sinking sun than the harsh fluorescent lights of the club his team members had dragged him to all those years ago — and back then she didn’t have a small baby bump to cover.

They are quiet, undoubtedly thinking about the same thing as only the running engines of cars and birds chirping as they settle down for the night fill the silence. His mother had brought up a question that dreaded both of them and Spencer’s mind has been occupied with it ever since.

“When will you guys finally get married?”

He proposed to her two years ago and while the initial thought was to get married as soon as possible life got in the way or more frankly a false conviction and the aftermath of his trauma.

The only thing that gave him hope as he was robbed of his freedom, his most treasured possession, was the thought of Y/N. He glanced at empty walls, envisioning all the pictures their house would be plastered in if he ever got out of there.

He went to sleep despite his concern that people might come after him because at least in his dreams he got to see her and then he’d feel safe even if it was just in his imagination.

His thoughts solely revolved around her and the future they shared if he was strong enough. He imagined her in a white ball gown and the way her eyes would brim with nothing but utter joy and love as she finally became his endlessly.

When he did survive and the fresh air outside of the confinement of prison fences reached his nose and he fell into her soothing embrace, the scent of her shampoo still the same and her touch still was full of love, all he could think about was how he never wanted to be separated from her ever again.

But they were too busy trying to fix his invisible scars to even think about drowning in the stressful process of planning a wedding again. And when he did feel like himself again with the patience and care of Y/N (as well as some long-overdue therapy session), she got pregnant and they were too busy in their own little bubble to even acknowledge the still missing rings on their fingers.

It’s not like Spencer has any doubts about spending the rest of his life with her. He knows it every morning he wakes up next to her, their blanket fully draped over solely her body and her head laying on his chest, the sun peeking through the curtains and bathing her in a glow that made her seem celestial.

He knows it every time she kisses him, her lips always tasting of strawberry chapstick and her hands softly playing with his hair as she tries her hardest to convey her love to him in the simplicity of a kiss. He always understands her secret language because truthfully he’s trying the same.

He knows it every time he walks in on her singing and dancing in the kitchen, so blissfully unaware of the horror in the world he’s constantly exposed to and giving him a glimpse of peace too.

He knows it every time she pulls his body into hers and gives him her all. The sounds that leave her mouth when he proves to her that there’s no one that knows her as much as he does and her features when she falls from grace with him.

Honestly, he’s known that he wants to spend entirety with her ever since he first laid his eyes on her.

But as always his fears get the best of him. He’s been separated from her once and he knows how much it hurt her and how can he claim to love her when he put her through that? How can he claim to love her when he’s still uncertain that he can protect her from all the evil that’s lurking in the shadows.

As he looks at her, the afterglow illuminating every imperfection on her face that he would mesmerize and admire for entirety if he could, all his fears and insecurities fade away like fallen leaves and he’s never been more certain about wanting anything more than finally call the love of his life his wife. Now.

“How mad do you think our friends would be if we got married right now?”

“What?” Y/N turns to face him, a shaky smile spreading on her face as she fiddles with the ends of her scarf.

Spencer isn’t surprised by her disbelief. The most spontaneous thing he’d done during their relationship was kissing Y/N on the porch of her house after their second date and well, get her pregnant.

“Marry me,” he repeats, mirroring the soft smile that adorns her face as he absently plays with the engagement ring on her finger, “Like right now.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and chuckles before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “I don’t have a dress. We don't have rings and I’m kind of pregnant right now.”

“I’d say you’re very pregnant right now,” he laughs as he places his hand on her stomach, something he’s been doing almost subconsciously ever since they found out that they were expecting — and that exposed their little secret multiple times already.

She nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck and peppers kisses there, muttering incoherent love declaration. “You really want to marry me in a shitty chapel when I barely fit in my clothes anymore?”

He nods and places a kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her floral shampoo and resting his head on top of here. “I do. To be honest, I’d marry you in paper rings.”

Noticing the worries in her eyes, he grabs her face and cradles it like she’s the most precious thing he ever had the pleasure of holding. While he does want to marry her desperately, his number one priority is always that she feels comfortable and if that means that he has to wait forever for her then so be it.

“I don’t want to pressure you and If you want a fancy wedding then I’ll gladly give you that. I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

The sound of her laugh fills the otherwise empty parking lot, the kind that brightens up his days that would otherwise be doomed in black and white as she places a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I know. But I don’t need a fancy wedding, I just need you.”

She grabs into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a random poster she had picked up earlier and starting to fold the material until she crafted a rather messy ring.

“You ready to get married in paper rings?”

[uncloseted]

1/2

1/2

1/2 Hi. I think I could use some help, I'll try to make this short. When I was 14yo (I'm 20 now) I dated a 18yo guy, thank God we were taking it slow and never made things official. Now that I'm older I can see that relash was rlly wrong. He was manipulating, used me to boost his ego, forced me to do things I wasn't comfortable doing and I think although we weren't official, he cheated on me? (more on that later). After a few months of fooling around, I found out something about him that I didn't like and confronted him about it, with the intention of ending that relash. He started begging me not to leave him, asking me tricky questions about the things I had heard of him with the intention of "making me realize" he did nothing wrong, and he even became violent with the person who told me those things, to the point I couldn't break up with him because I was scared. I just stopped answering his texts and calls because I was afraid of even talking to him and eventually he took the hint and suggested we broke up. We decided to stay friends, but that only lasted a few days, because one day, via Facebook Messenger, he suggested we got back together and I rejected him, so he blocked me. Months later, I had to close my Facebook due to harassment (not related to him) and opened a new one. Facebook showed me his profile in 'people you may know' and I decided to peek out of curiosity. Turns out, the moment we broke up, he started uploading photos with his new girlfriend. The descriptions of those pics said the exact same things he used to tell me, and I ain't good a math but I did some calcs and he had to be with her while still being with me lmao. I really didn't care, I was just happy I got rid of him, and I moved on with my life. Some time later I fell head over heels for a guy from my workplace, who I still hold close to my heart. I have trust issues and I am a very private person, especially with my relashs, so I didn't tell anyone about this guy except from like 3 friends. One of them was a girl (that we'll call Anne) who was like a sister to me, and was also friends with my ex. Over the next 2 years I had a relash with this guy, everytime I talked to Anne I used to tell her more details about my relash. Then, one day, I got a text from my ex. He texted me like we were besties and nothing had ever happened between us, like he didn't block me TWICE (yeah, he blocked me from my new Facebook too even though I never tried to reach out to him). I was angry at his nerve and told him so, he realized I was upset and changed his persona from confident and tough as nails to regretful and soft, telling me he was sorry for being so immature all those years before, but excusing his shitty behavior by saying he always "kept an eye on me". Um, wtf? He told me he was always asking stuff about me to Anne, looking out for me. I wanted to know what exactly he knew, but, trying to manipulate me again, he said he would only tell me if I accepted to play a game with him: I could ask him one question if he would ask me one in exchange and so on, and we had to be ttly honest with each other. I really didn't wanna get into his shenanigans but I only had one question (wtf do u exactly know about me, creep?) so I accepted. He asked his question first (dID u fEeL sAd wHeN i bLoCkEd U?) and I asked mine. I thought he maybe knew something about my school stuff and MAYBE that I had been dating someone else. Turns out he knew every. single. detail about my personal life. Not only he KNEW I was with other guy...

2/2 Not only he KNEW I was with other guy. He knew his entire name, the school he attended and every little detail from our relationship and other stuff about my personal life. Every single thing I told Anne, opening my heart to her, she told him. I felt terribly violated. I felt like a dissected frog, open for anyone to see my most inner parts. I felt ashamed, unprotected, sad and angry, all at the same time. I told him what he did was disgusting, to never reach me again or try to "keep an eye on me", and that I would make that job easier for him by getting Anne out of my life. He apologized, said he understood the situation, would respect my wishes, and wished me a happy life. I thought that was it. It took me a while but I got to heal, to feel safe again, although I still have a hard time trusting my friends. But I was wrong. Months later he sent me a Friend Resquest. I was a lil afraid, but tried to calm myself saying he probably just was checking if I was still upset, so I rejected the request and again convinced myself that was really it. But then he sent some girls to take pictures of me during my high school graduation ceremony and recently, his cousin (who was my friend when we were 14 but haven't talked since) texted me. I know that sometimes nostalgia makes you reach out to old friends, but we weren't close at all. Besides, he acted super weird, didn't even try to make small talk or let the convo flow naturally, but went straight for super specific and weird questions: are you studying college? what are you doing with your life? are you in a relationship? I was really weirded out and considered the possibility he may have been asking all those things because my ex asked him to do so, so I kept my answers short and vague, not giving him the info he wanted, and although I def came out as cutting, he kept asking. I tried to still be friendly because I didn't wanna seem paranoid, but I think he realized I wasn't telling him anything over texts, so he asked me to meet again over some beers with his friends on October 27th and that's when I stopped answering. I thought about that strange invitation for a few days until it hit me: October 27th is my ex's birthday. So much about respecting my wishes. I spent the rest of that month really nervous that cousing would try to reach out again, but nothing happened and I started to feel calmed again. Until, in November, he wrote me again, this time asking me if I wanted to go to the beach with his friends. I haven't even bother to open that text. Since them, I've been super paranoid. I know my ex's attacks aren't that consecutive (more like every two years: he contacted me and sent me that friend request when I was 16, hijacked my graduation at 18 and now sends his cousin at 20) but I can't help but think he's always there "keeping an eye on me" and planning his next move. I stopped accepting any friend requests because I'm afraid he will send someone for me, and if someone I already have on my friend list but idk texts me and after some small talks asks me about my life, I get paranoid and ask them why they wanna know and if they have some hidden intentions. Also, there's a mall near his house, and everytime I have to go there to buy something, I feel like crying because I'm afraid I'll stumble with him. I probably sound crazy. Some people may think I'm exaggerating and I should just let my ex stalk me and act all obsessed, but I feel dirty everytime I think about him knowing my personal stuff. It was just so traumatizing the first time. Do you get me? I feel like nobody gets me. Please help me, what can I do? I don't know how to make him stop, I'm tired of living in fear.

Not to start this off with an unrelated thought, but when did Tumblr get rid of its character limit on asks? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it let someone send in a message this long in one ask.

To get to your situation, I can definitely see why this would be a stressful and uncomfortable situation for you.  The first thing I would do is to stop interacting with your ex and people related to your ex.  You don’t owe his cousin anything.  Block both of their numbers, block their social media accounts, etc., and do that for everyone else who’s friends with your ex (or put them on limited profile/create a “close friends” list on social media).  Tell all of your friends in no uncertain terms that you don’t want them talking about you to your ex, even if it’s stuff that seems harmless, and cut those people off if they do talk to your ex about you.  

The other action you could take is to file a restraining order.  If you go down that route, you’ll have to fill out some forms and file them with the court, and then have a hearing with a judge where you explain your situation.  Then, you’ll have a second appearance in court where the stalker is present, and you both get the opportunity to explain the situation.  The judge will then determine the final order and the conditions of that order.  It can be a bit of an involved process, but it may give you some peace of mind.

The last thing I would suggest is going to therapy.  It seems like you’ve been through something traumatic, and a mental health professional can help you to work through that and move on from it.  There are many options for therapy, both online and in-person.  If you have health insurance, your insurance should cover at least some therapy sessions.  If not, some therapists provide services on a sliding-scale, and online services like BetterHelp can be less expensive than traditional therapy. 

[goldenscript]

congrats in hitting your recent milestone! as for my request how about... "a whisper of love" with jungkook. thanks so much!

pairing: jeon jungkook | readergenre: soulmate au / fluffy fluff bc my brain did a thingword count: 1,652author’s note: i just want to tell you the deepest thank you’s, love! this is much later than anticipated, but i hope this piece was worth something!

I love you comes in many forms.

Some are bold. (“I love you.”) Some are uncertain. (“I… I think I love you.”) Some are quiet, almost unnoticeable to the naked eye. But they’re there. They’re wordless and powerful. They’re the kinds of I love you’s that count when the circumstances permit, and you feel it without question. In your case, you hear it without second thought. And it is always in his voice.

You’re certain you have met him before, felt his presence linger across your skin where your palm is flat and open on a picnic table getting kissed by the sun’s rays, and a light breeze caresses your cheeks. You know him. Yet, you don’t.

Not yet, at least.

/

I can’t sleep, you tell him.

Me neither, he replies. I want to see you.

You laugh, you have seen me.

You can imagine him shaking his head, maybe a pout forming on his lips you’ve etched so perfectly into your mind.

Pictures don’t count. I want to “see” see you…

I know, you sigh aloud. Me too.

Soon, he promises. I’ll get enough money to see you.

Yeah, one day.

/

It’s been like this for over a year now.

You can hear his voice, see his face, even talk to him on the phone or through video chat. It’s simple. It’s easy. But you’ve never seen him face to face, felt his caress on your cheek, or even went out on a proper date. When his mother says you’re miles away, that much is true, by approximately five thousand miles. He lives a literal ocean away, and yet something as simple as an airplane ride to go see you or vice versa feels virtually impossible in a world where money still plays as a huge deterrent for soulmates trying to meet one another for the very first fucking time.

You hate it. You hate wishing he was here. You hate that the barrier isn’t just distance, sometimes it’s even language. You hate that he feels like he needs to learn an entirely new language just for you. Even when he says he doesn’t mind, that working day and night while going to school just to see you is worth every paycheck, you can’t help but hate that the universe has let you find one another at the worst of times.

Just like him, you’re amidst school, burrowed beneath a thesis for a masters while still trying to stay afloat. Student loans are no joke. Neither are airline tickets. Not to mention rent and the cost-of-living itself. You envy everyone else who gets to see him, to hear him with their own ears, and to feel him through embraces without a second thought. They’re privy to these things, while you are, unfortunately, not. And you don’t know why the universe chose you for him and him for you. You don’t know why the universe decided that hearing his voice would be a match made from the heavens, literally forged there, would perfect for you, complete you like you’ve learned. You just don’t understand.

What’s wrong? He asks you this suddenly, alarmed by the sudden influx of thoughts that must be bombarding him at the back of his mind among his own artillery. But these ones are in your voice, signalling a silent call for help that you find hard to utter when you need it most.

You don’t speak, finding words harder to come by, because how is it possible to miss someone so badly without having ever met them in real life?

We’ll see each other soon, I promise. 

There’s no rush, you always tell him. This time is no different. You don’t like that he’s working so hard to see you, straining himself when he has to juggle midterms and finals like you are. You understand that this is a circumstance that you both must take your time with, because life is life. It doesn’t always play out the way you want it to.

But wouldn’t seeing each other on the twenty-second of June be a nice way to kick off summer? This is definitely a thought you’ve pondered and hoped for. You both officially started talking in summer, some time after coming to grips with the soulmate business in November, but it’s a dream… right? He doesn’t trail off like he usually does, and you don’t feel any hint of a lighthearted joke either.

You have to pause, immediately reaching for your phone to dial his number despite the 16-hour time difference. It’s 1:30 PM where you are, and 5:30 AM for him, while you’re simply ending your short day, he is beginning his longer one.

“You’re joking, right?” you ask as soon as the ringing stops. “You have to be joking. You had to help your mom with utility bills two weeks ago. Right?”  

“Good morning to you too,” he replies, punctuating the greeting with a chuckle. His voice is still rough from residual fatigue, but it brings a small, faint smile to your lips nonetheless. Your heart just hurts to think that you won’t hear that same voice face to face quite yet. You would playfully whine if only you weren’t feeling the faint traces of disappointment creeping up on you. If he is joking, then you think it would be best to get off the phone right now.

But he stops you.

“I’m not joking though. My mom actually paid me back, made my friends give me the money for the tickets, and well, I’m coming to see you on the 22nd of June for two weeks.”

“Two weeks,” you murmur under your breath. What he’s saying is still processing in your brain. The very reality becoming potent with every affirmation he supplements to you.

“Hang on, okay? I’ll be there in less than two months. Will you be able to take some time off work for that long? I know this is kind of last minute, but I really wanted to surprise you somehow because I—I know this has gotten rougher—”

“—i-it’s no problem. I can get the time off,” you reassure him with a smile you’re sure he’s trying to picture right now. “Thank you, Guk.”

“Of course, I lo—” He coughs before he can finish, and when you ask him if he’s alright, he replies, “I can’t wait until June.”

You laugh, agreeing and semi-knowing what he truly meant to say.

/

It’s June 22nd. At exactly 7 AM.

The small peak of canary is rising behind the floating white wisps of clouds, getting wider and bigger as minutes countdown to the half-hour mark. You don’t expect to see Jungkook for another hour, but he’s gone quiet on his end of your shared connection, probably asleep or even too groggy to say anything at all. A part of you has always wondered what would happen when you two would meet—for example, what would you two do when you first see each other, what would either of you say, and what the hell would happen to this connection of yours?

It suddenly strikes you that it might fade into existence now that you and Jungkook are finally meeting, and that makes you bittersweet for many reasons. Perhaps neither of you will ever be able to share those hidden moments again, the ones where you need him to calm you after a stressful day, where the thoughts and pressure of your current living situation are too much to bear, or the ones where he just needs to hear your reassurance that he’s doing the right thing in school or the telling him a joke when he’s been studying too hard. You suddenly remember the first time you both spoke to one another and opened up to this idea of sharing thoughts with another person. It felt so foreign and so alleviating to hear someone have struggles like yours, to know that you weren’t alone even when you knew you weren’t, it was just nice to have that reassurance without necessarily having to ask for it. And—!

“You think too much, you know that right?”

That voice brings you back to reality. The faint grogginess, the roughness etched within the amused question. You know his voice better than your own sometimes.

You look up to see him, to finally look into his warm, brown eyes, and feel the swell of happiness bloom within your chest.

When you say his name, he doesn’t say a word. He washes his gaze over you in your short and loose top form and stops right at your eyes. His suitcase and his dufflebag are left forgotten a couple of meters away as he steps forward and closes the small gap between you and him in the small waiting area. His arms wrap around you like he promised you once before, and they’re warm and secure around you. He smells like bergamot and fresh laundry, reminding you of a home you’ve been waiting for. You’re at one. You feel at peace.

“I didn’t get to tell you this on the phone because I wanted to say this right now,” he murmurs into your hair. You ask him what despite knowing, because you already felt it that night. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

(After that small exchange, you both decide to grab some brunch at one of the cafés in downtown, and you tell him if you had known he touched down already and got through check-in, you would’ve been waiting there by the gate.

He simply takes your hand in his in response.

“Seeing you and being able to do this is enough for me.”

You grin and breathe a laugh, “Well, at least do that for me when I come down in December, okay?”

“Okay… wait, what?”

“You’ll see in December.”

I can’t wait already, he tells you.

You laugh aloud and nod, Yeah. Me neither.)

[gingerandwry]

On Becoming Unemployed and What Comes Next

Yet again, it’s been a LONG time since my last entry. But now that I’m unemployed-- and possibly looking for a career change-- I have more time and purpose for writing. I also have time for travel, which is what has prompted this writerly re-emergence. First a bit of back story….

I had been very dissatisfied with my job (digital music business development) for quite some time. The work itself was fine, but I was given too little of it, so I was extremely bored most of the time. When I found out that a couple friends would be getting married in Brazil this March, it seemed like a good excuse to quit and spend some time traveling. I wasn’t quite ready to make that leap tho so I booked a shorter trip to Brazil, along with a long weekend in Mexico City in January.

Then, rather suddenly, my company laid me off in mid-November, 10 days before my 39th birthday. The timing was poor (no warning, at the start of winter) but it was the push I had been waiting for. I immediately decided to travel for a while before figuring out what to do next. I booked a trip to NYC a few weeks later, extended my Mexico and Brazil trips and planned a road trip around the southern US in between. What better way to start the last year of my 30s?

New York was, as always, wonderful. The weeks before Christmas are the only time I enjoy the cold there, as the whole city dresses up for the holidays. But I didn’t really do anything. After a late start in the morning, I would venture out and walk around a bit before it got dark (at 4), then meet a friend for dinner and go home to watch TV. So basically what I would have been doing at home, only more expensive. So while I enjoyed my time there, I left feeling like I did not use it to the fullest.

How did that happen? I told myself that I’ve spent so much time in New York that I didn’t feel compelled to run around seeing everything I’ve already seen. But the truth was buried deeper. For one, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more homebound and less adventurous, more put out by the annoyances of travel and less enamored of its pleasures. Also, to my surprise, I was pretty stressed out-- and still am as evidenced by my inability to sleep through the night since I was laid off. And the wee-hour insomnia led me to sleep in late, which cut into my daytime tourism. To my credit, I toss and turn to a wide breadth of subjects:

Career

What do I want to do? Not tech, not anymore. But what else can I do in SF? Do I need to go back to school? Could I? How long will it take me to find a job? How much savings will I blow through until then? How will I adjust to a new job?

Health

Being unemployed and traveling makes it too easy to slip into bad habits. How do I motivate to ensure I still workout every day? And don’t drink too much? Or smoke? And eat healthy in Mexico and the South? I can feel myself getting flabbier….

Travel

What am I thinking doing all this travel? What’s even the point? Six weeks in Brazil, really? Two in Rio? It’s supposed to be really dangerous there, and I don’t speak three words of Portuguese. Can I handle all that driving around the South? Will I be as self-destructive as my last road trip? No matter where I go or how long I stay away, eventually I will need to come home to my lonely apartment and look for a job….

Birthday

This should not be a source of stress but it is. Almost all of my (childless) friends marked their 40ths with big parties and/or trips, and I feel like I need to do the same. I want to, but it’s so much planning, it just feels like a chore. Can I put on a good party? At what cost? And would anyone come on a trip with me? My friends are mostly partnered and busy often. The fact that I need to do all this planning by myself makes it feel like more of a burden and, combined with the uncertain attendance, makes me question if it’s worthwhile….

Love

This actually doesn’t stress me out much. I just don’t think it’s going to happen for me. So not stressful, but bleak.

At least I’m busy thinking while I’m not sleeping. Obviously some of these issues are bigger than this blog, but my focus now-- and one area that I have some control over-- is travel. It helps that I finalized all my plans and booked all my flights and accommodations. What keeps me up at night is questioning if all this travel is a good idea. It sounds like a great idea, but is it right for me now? Will I grow from it? Will I enjoy it? Or will I just go through the paces and count the days until I can get back to my own bed? I don’t know how many more opportunities like this I’ll have, especially while I’m (relatively) young. Will I turn my days into experiences or will they just pass?

And so my thoughts turned to my friend David, a slightly older, very well-traveled and self-aware friend of mine. (Incidentally David lives in NYC, and my visit happened to coincide with his birthday, so I got to go to his party which was one of my more fulfilling experiences on that trip. AND he’s married to a Brazilian.) David is fleshing out a concept called “Intentional Travel” (™, I assume). The idea is that the purpose-driven life doesn’t stop when you go on vacation. Life is more fulfilling and productive when you live with intent, and this applies to travel. It might apply even more actually. Whatever your reasons for travel-- relaxing, visiting cousins, trying new food, seeing where Lord Of The Rings was filmed-- do it with intention, and it will be a better experience.

I visited NYC without intent. And that’s kind of OK because it’s like a second home to me. But I can’t squander my other travels like I did that week. So now, in between vaccinations and AirBnB searches, I need to figure out what exactly I want to gain from my travels. Why am I leaving the comfort of my couch, going through the hassle of planning itineraries, digging into my savings, putting off my fitness goals, risking car crashes and muggings, learning a bit of Portuguese and putting my career on hold? What is my intention?

[rantingisabadhabitbutwhatev]

June 28, 2021

Well, it's been a few years since I wrote anything here. Mostly because these past few years have been an absolute whirlwind. My last post ended with Sean and I almost becoming official. Well, last week we had our 3 year anniversary together. Time flies.

Since my last post, I got accepted into the biotechnology program, for which I am forever grateful for. The program is very, very difficult and was the most mentally and emotionally taxing thing I had ever done up until that point. Being in class from 8:30am-4:30pm everyday with only 1 hour lunch break was rough. 6 to 7 classes a term was rough. Having a never ending midterm season was rough. But it was worth it. I made some amazing friends who I will hopefully have for the rest of my life. I gained some amazing lab skills and had some amazing opportunities. And best of all, I can actually see an end goal for my career. I don't know exactly what it will look like yet, but I know I want to be working on research in some sort of management position. Maybe not for forever, but for some time at least.

First year at BCIT was rough. Hard adjustments, lots of work and figuring out our class dynamic. But I came out of it stronger, knowing more about what I could do and how to succeed. Sean and I went through a rough patch in November of our first year together. His best friend from high school, whom he had feelings for for most of the time in school with her, was breaking up with her boyfriend of 5 years and basically went to Sean and said "I said no in the past but if you asked me now, I would say yes." And he doesn't know what to do so all he can do is come and tell me about it. And of course this happens on my birthday. So what do I do for my 18th birthday? Cry all night long. Yea, it was fun. It takes him a week to decide to choose us. Pretty rough but in the end it makes us stronger, especially since she comes around again in a year (but I'll get to that). After that Christmas, things change again. We were happy and then suddenly we stopped texting. Because of my schedule, we could only see each other once a week on Fridays. Everything was fine when we were together but during the week, everything felt empty and wrong. It took us until April to finally talk about it - I even wrote a letter about being upset that he's never read. But we finally talk about it and we figure out that we need to talk more and so we start calling each other. From then on, we try to discord each night and it has done us well.

After my first year at BCIT, I land my first co-op job in the Hancock Lab. I didn't think I was going to get a job at that point but I was so glad that I did. We did some really cool stuff with pseudomonas where we screened mutants for biofilm defects and tested biofilm growth in anaerobic conditions. I got to present my first poster at CBR Research Day. The lab pre-covid is amazing. Susan bought us beer and pizza and sushi every Friday and over the course of the summer, the drinking of the beer would start earlier and earlier (5pm at the beginning, all the way up till 2pm by the end of the summer). I had a great time in the lab and learned a lot.

My second year at BCIT was rough too. The workload got even worse that first term and I'm pretty sure we all hit our lowest lows. Just surviving became the name of the game and we did it well. Despite that, we had time to go play volleyball and support Josie's badminton tournament and fool around playing ultimate and snowball fights. We had some amazing memories and we didn't realize how fast time would fly until it was almost over.

And then Covid-19 hit. Assumed to be transferred from some sort of animal to humans in a Chinese wet market, racism and violence against Asians skyrocketed, just as the world shut down. Our last month at BCIT was canceled right before our eyes and we never got to celebrate finishing and surviving. Instead, classes went to online lectures and exams went to online formats and we stopped being able to see friends or go out or do anything really. Restaurants and attractions were shut down, maximum capacities and masks enforced and uncertainty everywhere. Talks for vaccines were hopeful, but I was skeptical about anything being ready until 2021. And I was right. As of today, all of us in the family have 1 dose of Moderna, although Mom is to get her second dose next week. Things are slowly opening up (provincial travel bans were lifted and movie theaters opened 2 weeks ago!) They're talking about what a post-covid world will look like, and I think everyone is grateful. In some ways, we lost a year and a half of our lives to this virus.

After finishing my time at BCIT, I was hoping to do a 4 month co-op placement abroad. Nothing of my applications turned out, but given covid, all travel ended up being restricted anyways. Not only that, there were no co-op jobs as every company in the world faced very uncertain economic and social times. I ended up taking April and May off and worked June and July at Collingwood again. Camp was different (lots of pool noodles and yoga mats) but in some ways, very much the same. I was grateful.

Despite the continued uncertainty of the next school year in a pandemic world, I was lucky to have the connections with the Hancock lab to allow me to do a full 8 month Honours Thesis with them. I took 4 classes per term on top of that and took them in the bioinformatics room on my laptop so I could be in the lab for the rest of the day. And boy, was I always there. 9am starts to 7pm finishes were not uncommon. Plus the 1.5 hour commute each way. Things were not easy. I thought BCIT was hard. 4th year at UBC trumps BCIT, easy. I was always stressed and strung out, I was constantly having to miss classes to do experiments (thank God for recordings) and at times, basic things refused to work (bacterial plating will be the death of me yet). The mandatory classes were all crappy and each have their own story that I may have to tell another time, but needless to say, I was not having a good time. I'm glad I made the effort to do an 8 month project, and in a way Covid made it both easier and harder. Easier because everything was recorded so my schedule was flexible (although I did my best to try to attend most lectures synchronously). Harder because I was in the lab more than I should have been and it meant some of my school work was compromised (thank God for Nabeel inviting me to his CHBE group). I survived, but I don't think I would have been able to go on much longer. Thank God for co-op and 8 months away from school.

In January, we were all on the hunt for co-op positions. Amazingly, I was super popular, scoring 6 different interviews of the 12 different applications I put in. I never got a Zymeworks invite though, which made me a little disappointed. But I think it worked out for the better because it meant I was more open when I was calling with Michelle. Meeting with Ting and Julien, we hit it off right away. I never get nervous for interviews and because of that, I feel like I'm really good at covering and clicking with interviewers. I asked lots of good questions and we were all laughing during that 1 hour interview. I got a call 2 days later from Michelle telling me I had gotten the job and I was so excited. It was the perfect fit. The chance to do more cell culture. The chance to do some research. The chance to maybe be hired on after grad. Working now, I feel really grateful for the opportunity. The company is a little odd, but our little CPD bubble is great to be a part of and I hope that one day we can make a difference.

I bought my first car on my first day of work - a 2012 Mazda 3 Hacthback with only 105k km. He's black and I've run him into the curb a few times, but he still looks super shiny (despite getting shat on within the first hour of being home) and I love him very much. The freedom of having my own car is amazing.

So why am I posting now? Well, I've been having some doubts and I needed a place to write it all out and I remembered this Tumblr. Reading back my old posts is a little sad because I started this Tumblr because I was sad. Things have been so much better in the last few years so I haven't been around. And make no mistake, I am so much happier than I was back then. But I've always learned while writing, so here I am to learn about myself and my feelings.

TBC

[bgarlich4]

Potential Risks of Social Media      Social Media: To Isolate or                        Communicate?          That is the Question. Hidden Motivators for Utilizing These Competing Platforms.

Social media has essentially changed the entire way that we communicate with others. The risks involved can be more threatening than a person can even understand, until they find themselves a victim of the daunting isolation and polarizing damage that can be done. This has a huge amount to do with the psychological factors included. Because we all vary in psychological health and wellness, the results can vary tremendously. The correlation between loneliness seems ironic in an online world that thrives on communication opportunities. “This is an important issue to study because mental health problems and social isolation are at epidemic levels among young adults. We are inherently social creatures, but modern life tends to compartmentalize us instead of bringing us together. While it may seem that social media presents opportunities to fill that social void, I think this study suggests that it may not be the solution people were hoping for." (Bergland, 2017.).  From a way to see family who lives elsewhere, or an opportunity to promote a business, and even as a method for keeping in touched with loved ones when we are limited by something as catastrophic as a pandemic, the benefits are endless. In the past decade, people have even used social media as a way to find new friends, or even a potential soulmate as dating platforms have gained in popularity. Social media can keep us informed of current events, but it can also mask peer's opinions and turn it into seemingly factual information in very talented ways of seeming legitimate. These wonderful ways of communication can be filtered through others interpretations differently, and unfortunately, we are left with the risks that are potentially attached to such technological advancements. When we get obsessed or dependent on this type of way in which we can communicate with like-minds, this trouble can cause a filter type of reaction and make it harder to even consider opposing groups ideas and values. “Facebooks ability to create filter bubbles, promote divisive content, and accelerate political polarization is no surprise to users who’ve kept up with the platform's many scandals. But two new studies point to pitfalls with commonly proposed solutions and point to a troubling double bind for the 190 million Americans who rely on Facebook for news. Filter bubbles and echo chambers are well researched territory, but the Virginia paper argues against popular understandings of the topics and, tellingly, against diversifying news consumption as a means to mitigate polarization. A liberal may diversify their news source by reading 20 new news sites for the first time. But if they are similar to the person’s current beliefs or further left, it won’t have a moderating effect. Additionally, disrupting a person’s feed with occasional posts outside their usual beliefs can actually reinforce their initial point of view. The most politically active users would routinely engage with content on the other “side,” if only to dismiss it. In journalist parlance, this is called “hate sharing.” A liberal blog may go viral among conservatives because of how strongly readers disagree with it or vice versa. Poetically, the paper terms this a “phenomenon of animosity.”. (Reynolds, 2020.). Isolation and polarization risks can also be masked, as if almost social media sets a person standard accordingly. From a psychological aspect, I can very easily see how people can interpret these platforms so very differently. Different media platforms mixed with all of the different age groups and demographics make it nearly impossible to find a one-size-fits-all protocol or way to help make people aware of their own potential risks. “According to a new national analysis conducted by researchers at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, young adults in the U.S. who use social media more frequently than their peers report higher levels of perceived social isolation.” (Bergland, 2017.). What begins as a way to keep up with one’s correspondences, we have set precedents for ourself and whether it be depicting real life from fake life, it can lead to peer pressure and pressure simply to fit in with different groups. Finding people that we share values and common interests with is a beautiful thing, but when the psych behind it can alter personal ethics; the potential to ‘fit in’ and do as your similar peers are doing seems the only answer. Isolation can make a person feel like they are not of any importance. This past week, our country held an election to declare our next President, and polarization was all sorts of mixed up between the political limelight and the social distanced dilemma the year 2020 has thrown us all into. Recent ‘Uncertain times,’ alone can do a toll on a person's mental health, but when these social media outlets encourage opinion while communicating has been limited, the combination can be so challenging for some. “Americans are more polarized than ever—at least by some measures. A growing body of research suggests that social media is accelerating the trend, and many political scientists worry it’s tearing our country apart. It isn’t clear how to solve the problem. And new research suggests that one often-proposed solution—exposing users on the platforms to more content from the other side—might actually be making things worse, because of how social media amplifies extreme opinions.” (Mims, 2020.). When I stroll through my newsfeed it is generally filled with happy friends and family, because, of course, no one wants to put the real daily stresses up for public display. This is a false image that can make a person with no big family or fun outings feel as if they are not good enough, or that they are in fact alone. It can lead others to depend solely on the use of technology and neglect human interaction all together. These confusing times of a pandemic have not helped matters much when it comes to stress and its factors of polarizing people. To conclude, the dangerous side of social media can be hidden in various ways. The idea that a message or information can be spread so vast and so quickly, often times leaving a footprint that cannot be undone. This is helpful for facts and spreading important, or vital, news stories. But this benefit can quickly go awry in a seemingly subconscious manner in which our minds have been trained to believe we need this type of communication only. Lest this mean that fake information is the only news that spreads fast, the important information can lose it accreditation quite easily. Social media is a wonderful thing, but when it is not used for the intention of communicating in a healthy way, the potential risks can be dangerous, and most of all very disguised in a hidden algorithm. Stay safe fellow Social Media users, and help to inform others of facts; not fear.  

                                              Sources Cited

Bergland, Christopher. (2017, March 7.). Social Media Exacerbates Perceived Social Isolation. Retrieved on November 7, 2020 from https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-athletes-way/201703/social-media-exacerbates-perceived-social-isolation

Mims, Stephen. The Wall Street Journal. (2020, October 19.). Why Social Media is So Good at Polarizing Us. Retrieved on November 8, 2020 from https://www.wsj.com/articles/why-social-media-is-so-good-at-polarizing-us-11603105204

Reynolds, Michael. (2020, March 28.). It’s Hard to Escape Facebook’s Vortex of Polarization. Retrieved on November 8, 2020 from https://www.wired.com/story/facebook-vortex-political-polarization/

[sturmazing]

don't chase the rabbit !

  what was the saying? the most extraordinary day was the day where nothing extraordinary happened?

    soda – as she’d come to think of herself – should’ve figured there wouldn’t be a day in her life like that.

    see, she’d had reason to believe, though: it had begun as any ordinary day of her new routine went. she’d woken up to a foggy morning in flounder heights, third floor, under the bridge, to the right. it was resha’s apartment, with its crisp cool hotel-ish feel; the heater hadn’t quite kicked in yet, and the november air had found its way to permeate along with the fog.

    the tile floor of resha’s kitchen was cold under her bare feet as she made a simple breakfast, and even colder as she sat down to eat. as per the recent usual, she was up before resha, and glancing outside it looked like she’d beat the sun up too.

    her cornflakes were an interestingly disgusting shade of soggy brown in the milk, and she stirred them idly, mentally sticking her tongue out: they looked wholly unappetizing. but that one sensible part of her brain was insisting she ate, so she did, and then she was already dressed and out the door before resha was even awake.

    in other words, it was another octo valley day.   ( looking back on it, she couldn’t remember which stage it was. but then, when did she remember them? it was octo valley. she wouldn’t talk about it – scratch that, think about it if you paid her a hundred thousand gold. )   the fog over inkopolis had lifted by the time she arrived, but octo valley was still shrouded in the stuff, and this late in the year it must’ve been mostly ice. at the very least, it stung like it, against her bare legs.

    something felt off today – it occurred to her as the air scraped against her mid-super jump. it couldn’t be chalked up to sleepiness; that had faded a good while ago. she didn’t think it could be the sense that octo valley naturally exuded, either; she’d long since gotten used to that. not that it seemed to matter, anyways: the sense faded as soon as she entered the kettle, and it was all but gone by the time she arrived home at noon.

    the external flight of stairs up to their apartment was steep and too long for soda’s taste – and coupled with the brisk air and vague wind, her cheeks were definitely bright teal when she finally opened the door. resha sat at the kitchen table, in her socks and battle gear, sifting through the mail. one letter sat away from the others, in the place resha designated for mail from soda, which meant her mother’s monthly snail mail. her mouth creased in a frown as she shut the door with its click: it’d been ages since she sent money to her mom. she’d been so busy and stressed with octo valley, she’d entirely forgotten about it.

    and her mom never sent her own unprompted letters.

    the sense of dread from this morning returned full-force, creating a surge in her chest that she didn’t like the taste of. soda kicked her shoes off, cupped her hands around her mouth and exhaled to warm them, and padded across the kitchen floor to sit too heavily across from resha.

    she expected the wave of exhaustion when she sat down, and yawned in accordance – resha acknowledged with a small, concerned smile. she still didn’t know where she went every day, but she’d learned to predict soda’s odd hours and constant exhausted state – but soda put the thought out of her head, because that was guilt, and she couldn’t stand for guilt. she didn’t think anything extra of it, not that resha knew what was coming or anything like it— her specialty was acting casual about these things, and she put it to use, reaching over the table for the letter with a wholly easygoing   “ ‘s real nice weather we’re havin’, ain’ it? ”

    resha tried for a larger smile and failed. soda hummed to herself and made to slide her finger into the envelope and so open it, until she saw it’d already been opened with resha’s butter knife. resha answered before she could open her mouth:   “ah, i’m sorry lil, i got a bit too curious. i, uh—”   she grimaced: an expression that didn’t have any place on her pretty, pretty face, and one soda was not exceptionally excited to see.   “well,”   she added helplessly,   “…you should read it.”

    soda nodded wordlessly, noting resha folding her hands in her lap silently. her bottom lip was quivering. soda tried to ignore her heart skipping every other beat, how the table was particularly smooth under her forearms and the floor was still cool through her mismatched socks, how she could still smell resha’s meaty cooking in the air and her own sweat and musk, how her mouth was so dry and her lips tasted like sweat, how resha’s breath was kept so steady and doors were slamming as other battlers left for the afternoon— she dragged in a wavering breath and released it with a laugh. it was a letter! what was she scared of?

    the paper crinkled as she slowly tensed, and resha with her.

    “ oh, ”   she said finally, helplessly.

    her— her dad…

    “sorry,”   resha said again, her green eyes magnified with tears. tears. huh, that was weird. he wasn’t her dad. why was she sad?   “do you—… do you know why he died? i-i mean, forgive me for asking—”

    “ worry, ”   soda responded instantly, voice steady. her dad was dead. okay. her dad was dead. okay.   “ he was… after my brother left. he wasn’ th’ same. got rougher an’ stuff, mom said it was ‘cause he was goin’ crazy wit’ worry. an’ he got real upset when i said i was goin’ to inkopolis too, after my brother never came home. he— he never liked th’ idea ‘a, he was— ”   she tried for a breath.   “ th’ octarians, ”   and the word sounded disturbingly familiar in her mouth,   “ they killed my granpa an’ mom don’ think he ever quite got over that. he always acted like we were s’m’thin’ t’ be protected, he never lemme go ou’ an’ do m’ own thing— ”   she cut herself off abruptly, the paper going taut between her tensed hands. the creases whimpered. a little harder, and they’d tear.

    resha must’ve taken it as her pausing to catch her voice.   “oh, okay,”   she said, softly, and uncertain: she plainly didn’t know how to react any better than soda did. something unpleasant roiled in soda’s stomach – dread, still there, still seething and gnawing away at her innards. what had given anything to right to make resha so— so timid, so soft? this was resha. she was bright and full and larger-than-life, the sort of person who wailed when she was splatted and whooped when she got someone in turn. she wasn’t this timid, cowardly, soft bullshit – she was resha verity, with the baseball jersey and beat-up running shoes and the skull bandanna, with the bright green eyes and the neon orange hair and a sprinkler’s worth of freckles against her tanned skin. she was wild and pretty and perfect, and that’s just the way soda liked her.

    that something in soda’s stomach burst with a vengeance.   “ why are you sad? ”   she spat, before she could stop herself, and she kept talking, louder and louder: the letter her mom had so carefully penned as crumpled between her hands, and she fought to stay sitting.   “ ‘s not yer dad, ”   soda snapped, soda snapped, not anyone else. frantically her brain tried to pull up a mental image of her dad, to wring out some sort of sadness instead of this anger – but it as swallowed, consumed, and her dull grey eyes turned vicious.

    the paper was uncrumpled and torn in half. look at what her dad had done again. even in death he’d found a way to ruin her happiness. she— her brain argued that she wasn’t feeling correctly. well no duh, her senses said. i can’t feel a thing, her senses said. you’re supposed to be crying, her brain said. i’m about to cry in fury, her heart said. that counts, her heart said.

    she didn’t know what to feel, but it wasn’t sadness. she felt— oh, she didn’t know the word. but it was a little empty, a little far away, as if her dad was standing on the other side of a chasm. on the other hand, resha was still right next to her. she was accessible and kind and close: soda’s dad was unreachable and harsh and a world away   ( quite literally ). soda didn’t need her dad anymore. she didn’t want him, she didn’t care about him.

    she cared about the fact that resha was here, now, and upset.

    soda didn’t want to know the look on her face. hell, she didn’t want to know the look on resha’s face: her face crumpled up the same as the paper and she sat down hard enough to bruise her tailbone, bracing her still-cold hands against her face. her palms were sweaty despite it. how was she supposed to react? how was she supposed to react?

    her dad was dead.

    what did ‘dead’ mean?

    it meant ‘gone’, right? it meant ‘gone forever’, right? it meant ‘six feet under with a marker’, it meant ‘a lot of crying from the people who were still alive’; it meant ‘grief’ and ‘weakness’ and ‘losing something important’. but soda couldn’t comprehend that. her dad wasn’t important. but wasn’t that wrong? wasn’t it wrong that she felt like crying just from her not wanting these emotions, and not the concept that her dad was dead?

    her mom wasn’t here. her brother was gone, too. those were the losses of something important, but she was alive and he wasn’t dead.   ( as far as she knew. )   but she wasn’t sad about her brother’s loss: she was hopeful. he was still out there somewhere and all she had to do was find him; but that wasn’t the case with this supposed “finality” that death brought. she couldn’t use that faith excuse with her dad, now, apparently.

    what did ‘final’ mean?

    what did permanent mean, what did forever mean?

    resha said something. soda didn’t hear it. was she crying? did resha think she was crying from sadness? she wanted to refute it. i’m frustrated, she wanted to say. i’m angry, i’m not weak. but you’re supposed to be weak in this, her brain said again. I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO, screamed her heart.

    soda stood up and snatched the torn halves of the paper up from the table. resha’s eyes were electric currents over her skin: soda’s refusal was tectonic plates, fizzling it all out. she balled it up – resha did not see the tears on her cheeks, soda insisted – and threw it on the cold white tile floor.

    the ribbed welcome mat wasn’t any warmer, tugging on her shoes.

    “ thanks for the letter, ”   soda said, and the door was an earthquake that slammed shut behind her.

[thank-your-lucky-stars]

I wasn’t going to write anything because my head is all shit but you know me, i need to get it all out or i’ll make myself even more crazy. this post is going to be ranty as fuck but it’s not me slamming ED or robron or anything like that, this is just me venting, mainly about myself because i hate how much things get to me.

i don’t think anybody is doing cartwheels about this upcoming incident but at the same time that’s not what’s bothering me. of course i wish this wasn’t something that’s going to happen, but i’m also not going to judge it too much before we’ve even fucking seen it. if it’s written well it could be something that is utterly heartbreaking, like what happened with laurel and marlon last night. life isn’t black and white and i don’t think for a second that laurel trying to kiss marlon, an ex, was her cheating on ashley. it was a moment of madness and weakness but in my heart and eyes and mind that doesn’t invalidate her marriage or her love to ashley and it certainly didn’t make her a “cheat”.

i wonder if the same people who are fucking dragging the shit out of robert already (without knowing the facts or seeing what actually happens) think so badly of laurel????? maybe they do, or maybe it’s one rule for robert and another for everyone else.

and that’s what’s bothering me. and this is what bothers me about myself. it has always been a huge fucking problem of mine, caring too much, caring too much about what people think. not even what people think about me, but what people think about the stuff that i care about and the stuff that is important to me.

and it really brings me down. and yeah, like i said a couple of paragraphs up, i’m not happy that this is happening. but what is upsetting me the most is the reaction. as soon as i read that spoiler, without seeing anything else, my heart sunk just knowing what the reaction would be. knowing that people would jump the gun, people would assume the worst, people would make out that robert is the devil and that ED were “tricking us” with the wedding and sort of lulling us into a false sense of security just to fuck us up a few weeks later. i saw some dumb anon say that this was why ED didn’t have robron get legally married, and i found that so fucking offensive, because they ARE married, their vows meant everything to them and everything to us so like fuck you for making out it means nothing just because it wasn’t legal and that ED did that on purpose just to fuck with us and invalidate it a few weeks later. because no.

and yeah, okay, i am irritated that ED are doing this. it seems like after every great moment, there is a 2-3 week period and then something bad happens. we had it after the engagement and then that horrible incident in november that fucked us all up until it was neatly resolved a couple of weeks later.

and going back to that incident in november; that honestly fucked me up so bad that i felt sick for about 3 days afterwards until i realised there must be more to it than met the eye. and i was right, so many of us were right, and 2 weeks later our queen maxine gave us an amazing episode that laid all our fears to rest. 

but i know for some people, they had a fucking field day with it all. they just loved that they could call robert a cheat. even though it wasn’t that black and white; what he did he did for a specific reason, he did in order to help his brother. i would have done the same thing, and i think most people would??? but even though that was all made EXPLICITLY CLEAR, some people couldn’t see that. because so many people love to see the worst in robert sugden.

and here we are again. very different circumstances, of which we don’t know the full extent of yet, but even before this episode airs people are running around screaming that robert is a piece of shit, that robert is a cheat, calling this shit an “affair” when we don’t even know if they actually even kiss, let alone anything else???? it just says he makes a pass at her, but there’s nothing at this point to suggest that she reciprocates (and tbh i don’t think she will???)

and it’s also been hinted that aaron might even break up with robert before this happens?? which no, okay, that doesn’t suddenly make it alright, but can you imagine going to hell and back with the person you love, you finally marry them, then they get dragged away from you and while you’re trying to hold your own life together as well as hold other people’s lives together, and then you find out your spouse has turned to drugs and is alienating you, possibly being really awful to you, possibly even breaking up with you, are you seriously saying that wouldn’t fuck you up?????? that you wouldn’t get off-your-tits drunk and maybe do something a bit stupid, that you don’t really want, that your heart isn’t in???? like laurel did with marlon (even though she wasn’t drunk!). the whole “cheating is cheating” thing is bollocks. not everything is that clear cut and if you think life is that way then you’re going to have some shocks.

like fuck that shit. i’m fucking tired of it. i wish we didn’t know anything about it, that it was just a shock that happened within the episode and then people could see the situation for what it actually is instead of jumping to conclusions without knowing wtf is actually going to go down.

and i’m so so tired of the negativity. and i get it, i really do. i get why people want to make little bitchy and petty posts about ED and all that stuff. but it doesn’t help, and it doesn’t make someone like me feel any better. and i’m not saying people shouldn’t express their negative views - it’s what i’m doing right now, ffs. but this is going back to my main point of this; me. this is me. this is what affects me. this is what seriously really stresses me the fuck out. and that’s my bad, that’s my issue. always has been and always will be. i don’t know how to fix it and i don’t know how to change. i’m pretty sure i’ll never change.

and i know it’s wrong for me to feel this deeply. maybe not wrong, maybe wrong isn’t the right word. but its....not healthy. i realised this, back in november after that shite went down, i realised then that i am in way way too deep, that i have somehow allowed myself to be truly consumed by a fictional couple on an unhealthy level. i realise this, i am well aware of it. i know it’s not “normal”. i know loads of us are obsessed, devoted, passionate, fanatical....but when it starts fucking with my actual head, sometimes even my actual body, that’s when i realise “fuck. this isn’t right. this isn’t good.”

i mean, when the good stuff happens its amazing. it’s like a fucking drug and it gives me such a high. but with that high comes a low, and the lows are....low. because i’m also not just affected by what’s happening on screen, i’m affected by what’s happening off it; the spoilers, the teasers, the fandom. and i bloody love this fandom so fucking much. it’s the kindest and smartest fandom i have ever been in in my life and i’m happy to be a part of it.

and so many of you are amazing and positive and rational and honestly, so many of you have helped ease my naturally negative mind on so many occassions.

but then there’s the flip side, and i see all these asks people get, from nameless, faceless people hiding away in the fandom somewhere, spewing bile about this character and show that i have loved since i was about 14.

and that’s another thing; i fucking love robert sugden and i always have. and i have always defended him. okay, not always online to a bunch of people, but i always used to defend him to my family, back in the day when he was played by karl and used to get into all kinds of shit, i used to defend him. i felt sorry for him. i related to him in some ways. i think i’ve spoken about this before. it’s sibling shit. i won’t bore you with it. but i have always cared for him.

and i hated so much of what ED made him do in like 2015. i thought it was awful. and that’s partly why i feel so blessed for how they have made his character grow, how they have redeemed him, how they turned him from a panto villain into this loving, devoted husband who still has an edge to him, but who ultimately cares and loves with all his heart.

and i’m annoyed at ED for sort of toying with our emotions again so soon. but at the same time i trust them, i trust that what they do won’t fuck up robron, i trust that it won’t be a case of robert genuinely wanting or needing rebecca; just as it wasn’t a case of aaron genuinely wanting or needing to hurt kasim.

but i just cannot bare people slating robert, or even slating ED for that matter. is it that hard to wait 2 weeks or however long it is??? is it that hard to just....wait and see, to reserve judgement????

and i know it shouldn’t bother me so much but it does. because the whole idea of this even happening in the first place is unsettling enough (although i stand by everything i’ve said regarding my faith in ED and my trust that this scene won’t be a complete mess, i do know that sloppy writing occurs sometimes and while i like to think that this won’t be one of the examples of that, at this stage we don’t know for sure) and with the added nonsense of people losing their fucking shit just makes it all unbearable.

and i wish i could just be in the here and now, like i feel like we were last week. because last week was lovely. even though we knew aaron was getting sent to prison, we were still very much in the moment, and even the sad parts were sad in the best possible way. and now we’re out the other side and everything is back to being unsettled and uncertain and that is what causes the panic.

and a part of me just wishes we never knew anything???? or at least, that we could only learn about what might happen a few days before??? because we now have two whole weeks of just waiting and worrying and dealing with people being awful and making out robert is the devil and that ED are horrific and this is “bad storytelling” before we even know what is going to happen.

and that means it’s going to be a struggle for me to enjoy what we’ve got coming up before then. i mean i’m hoping i’ll get over it but i don’t even know at this point. i’m so sad and pissed off and just stressed out. 

i know it’s not real. i know they’re not real. but i feel like they’re all i have. they are honestly everything to me. and i feel like i somehow need to distance myself in order to actually enjoy it a normal amount of not be so consumed by it, but how do i do that??? how do i do that when i have been here from the beginning, when i have watched these characters grow over the past decade, i watched their relationship develop naturally and i fell in love with watching them fall in love, and i have been there every single step of the way??? how do i suddenly like....not care as much??? especially now we have sort of peaked, especially now they are into Iconic Power Couple status??? 

i don’t know what to do and it makes me sad because they bring me so much joy but with the joy comes the pain and i know most of that is due to the fandom but the fandom is also what brings me so much joy and it’s such a big part of my life and my time???? i lead a quiet life, i’m not super busy, i work in a couple of very quiet little shops all on my own, 6/7 hour days with nothing but a laptop for company and in these winter months sometimes only a handful of customers each day. that’s a lot of time to fill and consume and what better way to do that then spend it on fandom? which is all good and well when things are wonderful and there’s happy gifsets and meta and fun and games and all that good stuff.

but when things shift, when this sort of thing is happening the negativity is literally unavoidable and it honestly just shatters me. and i’m tired of being in this constant cycle of things going really well and having lots to look forward to and then one stupid little spoiler (that often turns out to be bugger-all) just destroys the mood and it’s all panic and hate and there are people desperate to put people’s minds at ease and then there are people that bash people for putting others’ minds at ease and then there are the people that just love hate and spewing shite on anon and it is just so stressful and not fun and i wish it didn’t bother me and i could just ignore it but i’m too emotionally pathetic and fragile to do that, and i care way too much to do that and i know i should probably just steer clear for a while but how can i do that???? we have ages to wait until this is possibly laid to rest?????

i’m just so sad that this is happening so soon after such a wonderful week, i was on such a high after last weeks episodes and now i just feel so awful and i’m going to shut up now because i don’t even know anymore. i’m just talking shite.