#my mom is in the ER bc her doc was like you gotta get a blood transfusion rn and no one is sitting with her bc im helping my dad and my

[softzindagi]

been a day

[palbabor-writes]

dude uh so like dabi but as a father... like he would never but like no one day he gets left with this kid and he's not gonna abandon it bc he cant idk i just want to see dabi as a parental unit trying not to be a bad parent

lol, ppl ask me asks and i respond with a feature freaking film worth of words.  (//▽//) warnings: adult language, angst, mild spoilers for current manga chapters: 290 - 291

words: 3915 

notes: I answered this a little differently. It’s more of a longing for what could have been, rather than a kid of his own sort of thing. But, Dabi does his best damn it. Also, yeah, yeah, it’s another Greek title. I cannot be STOPPED. but i prolly should be. Not beta edited, so all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

Pónos 

ponos /ˈpoʊˌnɒs/ or ponus /ˈpoʊnəs/ noun  Ancient Greek: Πόνος Pónos  the personification of hardship and toil

There’s a loud clattering noise that’s echoing along the polished floors and walls of the Meta Liberation Army’s base. 

Dabi hates these long hallways. They remind him of some kinda tomb, with all that reverberation and all those gleaming surfaces. They’re perfect for elongating and stretching voices and sounds. 

So whatever the fuck that racket is, it’s not like he’s going to be able to avoid it. He’d need to turn around to do that and he’s not about to fucking turn heel and retrace his steps. Besides, it would take him twice as long to go the other way. Nah, this path is easier, despite the looming annoyance of the commotion.

 He rounds a corner and catches sight of a young woman. 

She’s struggling with something as she reaches into her shoulder bag, and her back twists awkwardly as she leans both forward and sideways. Dabi can’t get a good look at her from here. But, he reasons, he also doesn’t care enough to bother with a second, closer, glance. Nope, all he’s gotta do is slip past her and he can be on his way. 

“Reo-- Reo! Please keep still. I need to get to my phone…” The woman’s voice sounds strained and that odd pattering noise that he’s been hearing since he stepped toward this hallway hasn’t stopped either. If anything, it’s worse. Is it her quirk? Is there somebody behind her? Does she have one of those remote talking devices? Like that the ones that the Doc gave to the League before all this fucking cult bullshit started. What-

Dabi’s thoughts wander to a screeching halt as a boy bumps into his shins. He blinks at the sensation and stutters to a stop, his eyes glinting at the small form. The kid, who looks about four or five, stumbles backwards and cranes his head, looking up at this new discovery he’s run into. 

The boy studies him and, for a brief moment, Dabi worries that his face might spook the kid bad enough to send him into a sobbing and crying fit. Dabi’s not exactly the easiest thing to look at now. But, the kid seems ok with gawping at him, his violet eyes goggled and wondering. 

“Reo-” the boy’s mother repeats, replacing her phone and scanning the hallway for her rogue offspring. “I--Uh, there you are! I’m sorry...Oh, you’re one of those new generals. I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. Ooh, oh my gosh, now that you’re here, would you mind watching him for a moment? I’ve gotta run something back to Skeptic…”

That woman is saying something but Dabi’s too involved in his strange standoff with the boy. Neither he, nor the kid, seem to have the wherewithal to pull their gazes away. No, they both just watch each other, the former maintaining his aloof scowl and the latter is putting on an amazing show of raw fascination. 

“So, just don’t let him get up to too much trouble and I’ll be right back. Won’t be more than a minute.”  

Huh?

Dabi whips his head up, suddenly realizing what’s being asked of him. Like fuck he’s gonna watch this kid. Wait...where did she go?

He twists and turns, his cerulean eyes flashing up and down the sterile hallway, but there’s no sign of her. What the hell? How can someone dematerialize that quickly? He didn’t even say yes, for fucks sake. What a negligent, irresponsible parent she is, to just leave her kid like this with a complete stranger. Pfft, stranger feels a bit weak, honestly. Nah, Dabi’s a walking, talking freakshow. Nothing about him looks safe or dependable. There’s a pull on his dark pants and he automatically shakes his leg against the sensation, agitated. What now? 

Ah.

Junior is blinking up at him, those chubby hands wrinkling the rough fabric between his tiny digits. “Hi,” he beams, his pearly baby teeth straight and gleaming, “I’m Reo!”

“Yeah,” Dabi scoffs, knocking the kid’s hands away. “I heard. Where did your, er, mom go?”

“What’s your name?” Reo prattles, following Dabi as he skulks a little ways down the hallway, his brow furrowed and shoulders tense. Now what is he going to do? He could leave, tell the kid to stay put and go about his business. He doesn’t have time for this, after all.

“Hey!” Reo calls and Dabi turns at the slightly frantic note in the child’s voice, his eyes sharp. 

“Whadda’ want kid? I’m trying to find your mom.” 

“I said my name is Reo-”

“And I said I heard you. Tch, you’re so loud there’s no way half of the building didn’t hear you,” Dabi snaps, looming over the little boy, his mouth pressing into a deep frown. 

“I told you my name, so..so now you gotta tell me yours,” Reo scolds, those violet eyes shining. Dabi can see that the kid’s tiny frustration is rising at the thought of some adult being so rude as to not answer his newly engrained social niceties. 

“Hmph,” Dabi snorts, a low laugh puffing out of his lips. “The name’s Dabi.”

Reo digests that, his nose wrinkling as he mouths the unfamiliar name to himself, like he’s wanting to get it just right when he speaks it aloud. It’s kinda cute, Dabi muses. You know, in a stupid sort of way.

“D- Dadi?” Reo mimics, stumbling over that all important ‘b’ in Dabi’s name.

“What? No. It’s DABI. It’s got a ‘B’ in it. Like, uh, b as in, uh, bear. You know what a bear is, yeah?”

“A bear?” Reo asks, biting his lip at the strange change of topic. “What about a bear?”

“You got my name wrong, kid. It’s Dabi, not DaDi. My name has a ‘b’ not a ‘d.’ Try again,” Dabi groans, sinking to his haunches and praying that this kids mom will rematerialize any goddamn second. 

“Dadi,” Reo mimics, still fumbling. 

“Ugh,” Dabi sucks his teeth and begins to stand again. 

“Hey! Pick me up?” Reo requests, his arms lifting, stocky fingers clenching and unclenching into his palms, opening and closing in a repetition of a familiar demand. 

“Pick you up?” Dabi repeats, incredulous. What the fuck is wrong with today? The only thing that could make this worse is someone seeing this odd performance.

“I’m not gonna pick you up,” Dabi growls, his lips pursing at the kid. “You’re just fine where you are. Besides, don’t kids like you need to practice walking? How old are you anyway?”

“Five,” Reo chirrups, puffing his chest out, like he’s expecting a rainfall of praise to fall on him now that he’s verbally acknowledged that he is indeed, a big boy.

“That’s too bad, kid. If you’re five, you’re definitely old enough to walk under your own power,” Dabi snorts, bemused by Reo’s chipper attitude. Doesn't that get tiring? All that smiling and pacing that he’s doing? Dabi’s never had much experience with little kids, well, other than his own contact with his younger siblings, but they were never this...chatty.

“Awe,” Reo whines, his head falling, little chin bumping as it hits his collarbone dejectedly. Dabi shakes his head at the dramatic reaction. Sulking is better than crying, he reasons, turning his head to look for the boy’s mother again. She said it would only take a minute? The fuck was she?

“Hey, kid. Where were you and your mom before you came here?”

There’s a strange, static-like quiet that follows Dabi’s question. That’s weird. He would have figured that his new query would have broken the boy out in another rash of talkative excitement. So for him to be…

Wait. 

Dabi turns back and his eyes scan the newly barren hallway for the boy. The fuck? Where did he go? His gaze is still whisking frantically when he spots the heel of Reo’s shoe disappearing beyond the next corner. Fucking wonderful.

He paces after the boy, his long legs pulling him quickly along. Again, he wonders why he gives two shits. It’s not his kid, not his responsibility. Yet there’s some nagging pressure that keeps beating at the back of his mind. It’s likely some pieces of a fragmented lesson that had been taught to him long ago. Back when he wasn’t like this. Long before he’d made the decision that sent him on this mindless trajectory, lingering in the obsession of his pent up rage and hurt.  

You’re the eldest. 

Take care of your sister. 

Easy, he’s still a baby. That’s right, hold him like that. You’re such a good brother. 

You’re the one who he can go to when he needs help.

Thank you, Touya. You did so, so well! I’m sorry I had to leave for a bit, but thank you for watching him. 

It’s a big job, and one that you’ll always have, so, can you do it?

You’re their big brother. They look up to you.

Look! She’s happy to see you, Touya!

Dabi snarls at those little flashes of memory, his teeth gritting. No one needs him. Fuck, he’d be more likely to kill them than help them now. Or, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. Drilling it in, over and over, until he can repeat that vitriol like it’s some kinda twisted prayer. He’s not that boy anymore and he can never, ever go back. He’s made sure of that. 

“Hey! Hey kid! Get back here! You little shit!” 

A loud, male voice is booming up ahead and Dabi jogs the last few steps, his head already uplifted and searching as he rounds the corner. There’s a tall, unfamiliar man in the next hallway and he’s looking away, watching as Reo sprints from him. 

“Fuck, man. Why you gotta yell at him?” Dabi scolds, his cerulean eyes glaring. The man whirls around and Dabi notes the source of his ire. There’s a large stain, bleeding against his crisp white button up and an upturned mug is clutched in a tight fist. Kid must have bumped into him and knocked his coffee out. Well, that fucking sucks, but it’s no reason to freak out at the little guy. He’s five for fuck’s sake. Not like he did it on purpose. 

“He burned me! He ran around that corner and smack into me! Control your kid, you ass! I know you’re one of those hoity toity new generals but you gotta--”

“He’s not my kid,” Dabi snaps, already shoving past the blustering idiot. If he hurries, he can snatch the boy up before he gets too much farther. 

“You sure are running after him like he is!” 

The taunt chases him as Dabi stalks away and it makes him grind his teeth again. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, he repeats, all he’s gotta do is get the kid and wait for the mom. Besides, he’s in too deep now. He can’t just abandon him. Fuck, with his luck, he’d run into the mom before he ran into Reo again.

The next hallway leads to one of the many common rooms. 

Dabi, realizing this, begins to jog again, suddenly desperate to catch Reo before he wanders into even more members of this crazy cult. Or worse, he gulps, a member of the League. He’d never live it down if the kid bumped into Compress or Shigaraki. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

As he skids along the next turn, Dabi catches sight of the kid. He’s wavering beside the double doors of the common room and he looks distinctly lost, his dark head turning every few seconds, those violet eyes of his wide. 

“Oi! Reo! Stop running,” Dabi calls, already lowering himself to a kneeling position, his long, mangled arms outstretched. He’s hoping he’s painting some kinda welcoming picture with this gesture and not just creating a terrifying pantomime of comfort.

Reo looks back and he lets out a little squeal of recognition and delight. Excited he is finally going to be picked up. His shoes tap loudly against the tiles as he dashes into Dabi’s oddly warm embrace. 

Once he’s got a good grip on the boy, Dabi rises to his feet, keeping the kid’s body securely against his. At first, Reo protests the tight hold, his back bowing and squirming, but Dabi stills him with a long, hard, stare.

“Don’t do that,” Dabi chastises, wincing against the pull on his marred skin. 

“Oh! Does it hurt?” Reo asks, carefully bringing his swinging feet to a standstill, noting the grimace of pain on Dabi’s scarred face.

“Yeah,” Dabi confirms, shifting Reo to his hip so he can free up his other arm to adjust a pinching staple. “My skin ain’t exactly healthy. Now, let’s get you back to your mom before she finds out that you fuc-- I mean...that you dashed off like that. Give people a heads up next time, huh? Making me run all over the compound after--”

“Oh! Who’s that you’re holding?”

“Gosh, he looks just like you! With that dark hair and those bright eyes of his. Is that your son?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Dabi tosses a glare over his shoulder, but the two women keep walking toward him, cooing at Reo’s pleased little face. One of them reaches up and ruffles the boy's hair and Dabi instinctively takes a step back, a snarl lifting his lips over his white teeth.

“He’s not my kid,” Dabi corrects, for what feels like the umpteenth time today. It’s only the second, but twice is two times too many. 

These women are being ridiculous. They don’t look that much alike. He’s just got dark hair, that’s all. If they knew what color Dabi’s hair really was they wouldn’t even make that connection. With his true coloring, Reo would be another kid and Dabi would be some fucking freak who’s left holding him. He’s not this kid's anything, least of all his protector. 

It’s not his job to look after this half pint, nor is it his job to care about him. Even if he reminds him of some sliver of what was, what could have been. No, Dabi is just some schmuck who somehow stumbled into this absurdity. It would be easy to unwind those trusting arms and lower this kid back to the ground, he’s not sure why he’s still holding him. He should...he should put him down...He... 

For some reason, that last thought makes his heart squeeze, pressing an irregular beat against his breast. He shakes his head at the sensation, burying whatever bubble of emotion that is trying to rise back down, pressing it deep, smothering and covering until he feels normal again. 

“He’s right! I’m not. Because he’s Dadi!” Reo confirms, simultaneously standing up for his new, haphazard, caretaker and throwing him under an oncoming proverbial bus in the same breath. Goddamn it all.

“That’s so sweet! Your son is beyond adorable!”

“He’s not…” Dabi begins, but bites his tongue. What good is it doing him anyway? These flunkies of the Meta Liberation are just fawning over Reo anyway. He’s honestly stunned they’re still talking to him at all. 

As they’re tickling and petting at the boy, a sudden thought springs into his mind. Actually, this might not be too bad. If he can get one of them to take the kid, he can fucking slink away, his responsibility finished, job done. 

“Oi, one of you can take him. He’s waiting for his mom. She said something about meeting with that Skeptic dic-- guy.”

“You want us to watch your son?” One of the girl’s questions, her head tilting at his demand. “Wouldn’t you rather wait for her yourself? You don’t know us and, well, not that we’d do anything bad...but that feels strange. Besides, you’re doing a great job! Look how happy he is. The two of you are so cute!”

Amazing. 

Apparently, Dabi, despite his hardened and rough persona, one that he has cultivated and built up for years, mind you, could now add, “cute,” to that resume of terror that he is building. 

Sighing, Dabi tries a more direct approach. “You seem to like him a lot, so just keep an eye on him until his mom comes back. It’s not hard. He likes being held, so just, er, hold him.”

Reo, sensing that he’s about to be deposited out of Dabi’s warm grasp, begins to wiggle again, his hands clinging to Dabi’s skin. He’s trying to be gentle, remembering Dabi’s earlier warning, his small digits tapping rather than digging, but he’s still scrabbling against the pull.

The woman clicks her tongue and smiles, tucking some of her long hair behind her ear. “Your son is so precious! He must really love you. Look, Han, isn’t this kid is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen!” Her friend chuckles and agrees and the cheerful sound makes Dabi seethe. 

“Like I told you, he ain’t my kid. Now knock the wax outta your ears and take him,” Dabi snarls, still pushing Reo outward, hoping beyond hope that this calamity will just fucking end. 

“Dadi,” Reo pouts, his nose wrinkling as he burrows his face into Dabi’s arm, his skin hot against Dabi’s purple flesh.

“If he’s not your kid,” the woman named Han says, propping a fist on her hip, “why does he keep calling you daddy?”

“He’s not calling me that,” Dabi grumbles, his eyes lingering on Reo’s distressed slump. “The kid can’t say my name, which is Dabi. For some fucking reason the “b” is alluding him.”

“Fucking?” Reo questions, his brilliant purple eyes lifting, searching Dabi’s deep blue gaze. When he doesn’t get an answer, he repeats the word, lingering on those harsh syllables a little longer than he needs to. God, Dabi thinks, pulling Reo back to him, trying to muffle the boys bewildered tests of his new word. This is beyond ridiculous.

“Uh-oh,” another, male, voice resounds. Dabi scowls at the newcomer, watching as he steps beside the women, his eyes widened in mock concern. “That your kiddo?” He asks, his brow arching at Dabi’s now openly hostile form. 

“Fuc-- Again? I gotta answer this again?” Dabi snaps, shifting Reo back to his hip, just above his belt. “No. No, he is not mine.”

“Sure about that?” the man quizzes. “He’s sure got your hair and, uh, your vulgarity down.” 

“He’s that woman’s...Look, his mother went to go see that Skeptic bastard. So, you wanna help me out here? Any of you idiots want to do something useful? Hmm? Go into that big meeting room, the one past the common area and get her. I bet that’s where she went. When you see her...tell her, her kid is going wild. Stop...stop looking at me like that or I’ll torch you where you fuc-- where you stand.”

Instead of being cowed by his threat, the Meta Liberation Assholes just laugh, the three of them leaning against each other as they heave with their amusement. And Reo? Well, he’s seemingly amused by all the ruckus, giggling and murmuring little nothings into Dabi’s skin, nuzzling into Dabi’s inhuman warmth. Dabi feels that strange tugging at his heart again and in his anger and distant horror, he spews more rage onto the trash that’s daring to chortle so openly in front of him.

“Goddamn it, I’ll make each of you pay for this you...you stupid--”

“Dabi?”

Can a hole open up under him? That would be absolutely perfect and he’d be so, so grateful. He cranes his neck and catches sight of the last person he wanted to see. Fucking, Twice. His costume is making those white eyes of his comically wide and his hands lift to clap at his face, always dramatic and overblown to the last.

“Who is that sweet little boy? The hell are you doing with that child?!?”

“He’s--”

“It’s his son!” The ‘Han’ woman calls, still clutching her sides, her eyes wet from her mirth.

“No,” Dabi groans, his head dropping lamely. He wants nothing more than to fry each and everyone of these fucking pieces of shit. The desire is so strong he can feel the creeping of heat that’s rising in his palms and tickling up his piercings, scalding his skin against the metal. No, he scolds himself, he can’t do that. Not with Reo in his arms. He’s gotta be careful. He can’t hurt the kid. It’s not his fucking fault he’s been trapped in the care of a monster like him. 

Dabi gasps at his sudden, protective instincts. The fuck? This kid is nothing to him. Nothing. He doesn’t remind him of anyone. No, he’s nothing like his little brothers, all questions and sweet, brief hugs. He’s not...he’s not…

Reo’s hum of agitation breaks Dabi from his swirling emotions. The boy tries to lift his legs away from Dabi’s hips, his arms wrapping around Dabi’s neck, suddenly unsure and starting to whimper. 

“It’s too hot,” he complains, his voice small and soft in Dabi’s ear.

“I know,” Dabi concedes, taking another deep breath, trying to still that rushing rage that is lingering in the back of his mind. “Sorry kid, it should stop in a minute.”

“Ok,” Reo nods, his black hair mingling with Dabi’s spiky tendrils. 

Twice has stepped forward and he’s standing beside Dabi, his head cocked, looking from the shivering boy to Dabi’s haggard expression. “He does look a lot like you,” Twice ponders, his fingers tracing his chin meditatively. There’s something about Twice that Reo is bothered by and his face falls into the hollow of Dabi’s neck and shoulder, straining his body against Dabi, away from the black and red suited man that’s beside Dabi’s elbow.  

“Fuc-- Piss off, Twice,” Dabi growls, his blue eyes narrowing and hardening as he pats comfortingly at Reo’s back, twisting from Twice’s curious stare. “You’re freaking the kid out. Hey! Hey, don’t you assholes have some bootlicking to do?” Dabi snaps, his eyes lifting to the gaggle of MLA members, who are still giggling and whispering across from him. And, just as those words leave his lips, Reo’s mother, finally, finally returns. 

“Oh thank you!” She coos, raising her arms to Reo and peeling him away from Dabi. To Dabi’s shock, Reo still shakes his head, his arms retightening around Dabi’s tense neck.

“Oooh, he’s taken a liking to you I see!” 

“You gotta let me go, kid,” Dabi whispers into Reo’s ear, unlacing his little arms. Reo whines and pouts as Dabi presses him back to his mother, a sigh of relief shuddering from his mismatched lips. Thank fucking God. Now he can have this woman tell all of those shits that he’s not this boy’s father...wait...what the fuck? Oh...oh, now they all leave.

The MLA lackeys are drifting away, walking in a tight bunch as they re-enter the common area, soft grins still lingering on Dabi. And Twice? Twice is snickering openly and making his way down an adjacent hallway, no doubt off to tell Toga what he’s seen.

“Thanks again. Looks like you did a great job,” Reo’s mother repeats, shifting her son to a better position, trying to quiet his frantic scrabbling, his small arms still reaching, struggling for Dabi.

“Dadi!” Reo cries, a few tears falling from his soft face as he’s walked away. In another heartbeat, they’re both gone and all Dabi has left of that strange little kid is the lingering sting and warmth of his embrace on his burned skin.

Notes: Dabi is a grump. Or is he? o(TヘTo)

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @evesmores

[assholemurphy]

so, i’m dying.

lol, not rly. except, yeah, kinda.

my gallbladder has finally fucked itself into a coma and only wakes up to force me to projectile vomit myself into oblivion whenever i consume solids. and on occasions, liquids, if it’s rly cranky. that’s my life now.

i have managed to eat 2 hot pockets, some chips, abt 8 jalepeno poppers, and three eggrolls (and keep them down) in the past 2 weeks. all that i’ve been able to keep down has happened in the past 24hrs. i’m not sure how i managed it, tbh, but it wasn’t without a fight. other than that, i have not digested anything but liquids in the past 2 weeks. i cannot think straight, i can barely form words in my head, let alone say them out loud. this is not fun and i don’t like it. it was one thing to choose not to eat (tho, rly, with an ed, it wasn’t exactly a choice, ya feel?) and to choose to purge, but now that i have no choice at all, i’m so fucking pissed off. like, part of me is happy bc i’ve lost 5lbs already, even with being bloated from constant puking, but like, more of me just wants to survive so i can work on my goddamn finals. which are all due this week. and none of them are done. (except the one that was due last week, managed to do that one, luckily).

pretty boy took me to the er on sun night bc i can’t keep anything down and it’s only gotten worse since they released me. we got there right as the docs were changing shifts, so the first doc was rly narcissistic and full of himself and the second he heard me say ‘i’ve got atypical anorexia b/p subtype’ he was like, ‘ah, yes, it’s all in your head, this is your fault’ which even made pb annoyed bc he apparently can tell the difference between what’s currently going on and my (his words, not mine) ‘crash diets’. but he was p sure the doc didn’t like me bc i called my primary doc (who was supposed to get me scheduled for an ultrasound to get this taken care of almost 2 months ago but didn’t bc he didn’t believe me when i said (having opinions from 2 previous docs) i had gallbladder issues, so he ignored it) an idiot for, ya know, ignoring me when i told him something was wrong. but docs are assholes, they don’t like it when you’re right abt something they can’t see themselves. so i’m switching primary docs asap. this guy’s a fucking joke.

(it’s also been almost three weeks since the pharmacy faxed him paperwork abt the insurance company not wanting to pay for my adderall prescript bc i take 3 pills a day and they only wanna pay for 90 in 75 days (yeah, not even 2 pills a day, like this shit doesn’t work for five hours max). he still hasn’t filled it out. it’s fucking finals week and i’ve got maybe 6 pills left. how fucking grand. so that’s gotta be sorted at the same time he gets me a surgeon’s appt.)

so the guy had me pee in a cup and gave me fluids/anti nausea meds (which were nice, helped me keep down a bit of food sun night). then he basically told me ‘it’s just cyclic vomiting, you’ve just got to break the cycle’ but he was leaving so he was going to let the next guy discharge me. thank fucking god, bc otherwise, i’d probably be dead in a couple weeks.

so this next guy is eccentric af, this whole hospital is a circus, it’s fucking great (no sarcasm, i love quirky ppl). he checks out my cup of pee and orders some blood tests (that the other guy didn’t even care to do), then he comes in and talks to me and he’s fucking great, a+ doctoring, love this guy, sadly, he doesn’t have a private practice, but apparently the nurses get asked if he does all the time. how do i know? my mother asked, bc she liked him. i trusted him. i trust no docs, ever. but this one is good. he says there’s def something wrong, def not just my ed, and orders me an ultrasound for the next morning. good, great, getting this show on the road. he understands my concerns abt my primary doc and offers to explain the results of the ultrasound to my mother via phone mon night. so she calls, he tells her i’ve got ‘sludge and wall thickening’ which are Bad(tm) esp in combination with me not being able to eat anything for over a week and a half.

so, now i’ve got to talk to a surgeon and get my gallbladder removed. as i fucking figured i’d need months ago (during the summer, with my pain and stuff). now this vomiting thing has been happening at least once a semester for abt 2 years now. no one has known what is wrong. ‘it’s acid reflux, take these pills’ ‘these pills don’t work’ ‘welp, idk ^.^’ and so forth for 2. fucking. years. now i’ve got confirmation that my gallbladder is bad. like ‘could explode and kill me’ bad. this is great, i can finally get something done abt this.

except.

except it’s finals week and no only am i running v low on adderall (i just took a pill for the first time since fri morning just a few hours ago) and i’m now fatigued and unable to eat with 4 projects left to do. all of which require a fuckton of concentration. concentration i just don’t have even with the adderall bc i haven’t actually eaten much food lately and can’t fucking think at all. like, every time i eat, it comes right back up.

so, i’ve been sleeping a lot. great, right? except for ya know, all the work i’ve got? nope. i can’t sleep for longer than 4 hours without having night terrors. like BAD ones. i’d tell you abt the one i had when i slept last (from 5:30p to 8:30p) but it would require a whole host of trigger warnings just to give a summary. but it fucked me up badly. and they’ve been getting progressively worse. i dreamed my dog died. i dreamed my apartment was possessed and the demon was trying to kill me. i’ve dreamed of animal abuse and murder and even worse things that leave me fucking shaking when i wake up. but i’m so tired that i keep falling asleep anyway, no matter how scared i am. and i stay asleep, until my alarm goes off, then i shut it off and fall asleep again (into a different night terror). there is no stopping this. my body is dying and it’s telling my brain i’m in danger so my brain is trying to scare me. it’s working. i’m well aware i’m in danger but there’s nothing i can do until my mom sets up a surgeon’s appt for me. i’ve got to remind her to do that tomorrow. i’d do it myself, but i’m far to fucking out of it currently to talk to a medical professional in any capacity.

but throughout all of this, i’m falling further and further behind on my final projects. i’ve got a 10min play analysis due tomorrow at 10:30a (which i’ve got to work on tonight). then i’ve got to finish my stagecraft project (which requires that i go to the shop 3 more times so i’ve got to do that at like 11a tomorrow, then 12p thurs, then like 7p thurs, but i’ve got to find a shop employee to go with me, apparently, and i’d take goldilocks, but she obvs doesn’t want to do it, so i might ask pb or mary, if i have to). then i’ve got to do my monologue assignments for acting i (i’ve got one almost fully memorized, i just need to refresh, but i’ve got to memorize another one, read the play it’s from (i’ve got to buy the ebook), and do an analysis over it before thurs at 10:30a). then my intro to theatre final is due last, but it’s p big and i’ve got to do a lot for it. like 7pg paper plus a ‘previous action’ script (i’ve got to write up a script showing what happened before the play itself starts). i’ve got a SHITTON of work to do and only 9 hours for the sa final, then 24 hrs for the acting i final, then 26 hrs for the itt final, and somehow i’ve got to find at least 3 hours for my sc final. all while trying to get sleep and not eating anything.

plus i’ve still got to do some loan stuff with finaid this week.

i emailed my profs telling them what’s going on, but they’re not going to accept any late finals, so idk why i bothered. (i haven’t heard back bc i just emailed them like, an hour ago and it’s 1a). i CANNOT fuck up this semester bc i won’t get finaid anymore if i do and i can’t drop out. so like, i’ve got to get everything together, but i’m just so fucking sick and everything is overwhelming. i’m going to do my damnedest to get everything done, but idk if i’ll be able to. i rly don’t know.

i’m so fucking stressed over this shit, which is only making my gallbladder issues worse, so it’s a losing battle all around and i’m drowning. honestly, if i had the money, i’d pay for someone to do this for me, but i can’t and i wouldn’t anyway bc like, i’m not putting my name on anything i didn’t do myself out of some bullshit pride thing i’ve got going on. my pride’s gonna get me killed one day, i just know it.

but, tonight, i’m gonna work on my script analysis final and pray to god i can get it done in time. i’ve got like 2 hours left on my adderall, maybe 3 if i push it. i need to make a plan of attack for everything and get to work.

i’m not going to fail this semester if it fucking kills me. and it actually might.