#my sisters boyfriend said to look on facebook for job offers and when i did 99.9% of them were definitely fake and scams.

[transgaysex]

speaking of horrors theres something happening and i dont know what it is but its pissing me off

[harrygroves]

a simple favor -- chapter four

to chapter three

Billy’s been doing a damn fine job of avoiding all thoughts concerning Steve Harrington. It’s been a blissful, quiet week.

And now that week is up and hell is about to begin.

They’re in Billy’s Camaro, Steve insisted they take his car, and he’s been driving for almost three hours. Steve is fussing with the radio and fidgeting as they get closer and closer to his parents' summer home.

“Dude, you really need to chill out. You want some Xanax?” Billy offers.

“What? No, I don't want any -- why do you have Xanax?” Steve wrinkles his nose, arms crossed.

“I think you of all people would agree that life requires a little anesthesia every now and then.” Billy gives him a knowing look.

Steve looks like he wants to say something snotty so Billy turns up the radio as a way to deter him. Instead, Steve moodily stares out the window.

Billy lets him for a little while before reaching over and taking Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together. When Steve tenses up, Billy gives it a squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay babe.” Billy says soothingly but his snarky grin gives him away.

“God, I hate you so much.” Steve grumbles, but he doesn’t try to pull his hand away.

*

The summer house is actually a mansion. There’s a sprawling lawn in front of it, with trimmed hedges and a goddamn fountain. Billy wants to make so many jokes about silver spoons but he holds back because Steve looks like he’s having a panic attack.

“Hey, hey!” Billy says once they’re parked, reaching over and shaking Steve’s shoulder.

Steve looks back at him, like he forgot Billy was there. He’s pale and wide-eyed.

“Oh fuck.” Steve whispers. “Oh my god, oh my god, this is such a stupid idea. What the fuck am I doing, they’re going to see right through this -- ”

Look, Billy doesn’t want to kiss Steve.

Well, actually, that’s bullshit. He does want to kiss Steve but he doesn’t want to want to kiss Steve. It’s very distracting and he’s just in this for the money. The ten grand.

He’s been telling himself this for a week, like a daily affirmation.

However, Steve is freaking out, which is usually good for a laugh or two but Billy needs him to get his shit together so he takes Steve’s face in his hands and kisses him.

Steve is still trying to talk but the words get lost between them while Billy hums against his mouth, trying to be soothing and soft in hopes that it brings Steve out of his head. It works for a few seconds before Steve reaches up and puts one of his hands over Billy’s, which would almost be tender if Steve wasn’t trying to pull them off his face.

Billy lets him go and leans back. Steve is flushed and looks sad.

“Don't just...do that.” He mumbles.

Billy shrugs. “Kind of have to.” He grunts back, getting annoyed that Steve refuses to wrap his head around the thing he planned.

“Yeah, well…” Steve trails off. “Let’s go.”

They get out of the car and Billy grabs his bag from the backseat.

A girl their age with reddish-brown hair is running to them from the front door.

“Steve!” She yells and launches herself at him, wrapping him in a hug.

She babbles and laughs and smiles like Steve’s a goddamn prince.

“Should I be jealous?” Billy calls out to the pair.

Steve and Red Head look over at him.

“Oh, sorry, lost my head for a second. This is my sister, Robin.”

Sister, right. Steve had an older sister. Billy forgot about her, if he was being honest.

“Is this him?” Robin mumbles, but Billy can hear her just fine.

“Yes, uh. This is my...boyfriend, Billy Hargrove.” Steve says, smiling at Billy.

It’s too wide and his eyes are too bright. It’s the most human Billy has seen Steve look in weeks. It’s freaking him out.

Robin marches towards him and stretches out a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Billy. Steve has told me absolutely nothing about you.” She says it with a bright smiles and zero hostility.

Billy shakes her hand and tries to give her a pleasant smile in return. “Yeah, Steve just wants me all to himself, ya know how he is.”

He doesn’t, he’s totally winging it but Robin laughs and Steve clears his throat.

“You guys must be tired and hungry, I’ll let you get settled. Mom and Dad will be on your asses enough at dinner, so why don't you guys go hide out for a while. I’ll keep them occupied once they’re back from the court.”

“Thanks Robin.” Steve says and gives her another hug. “See you later.”

Robin leaves them and Billy leans towards Steve.

“The court?” He asks.

“Tennis.” Steve replies.

*

Steve leads Billy through the house, past floor-to-ceiling windows and paintings that have to be original prints. A few people pass them, all wearing uniforms. Steve says hello to everyone pleasantly and Billy gives them tight smiles. They have fucking housekeepers. Servants. It’s so...rich. There’s a grand piano at the base of a giant staircase and Steve leads him up to the second floor, down halls littered with vases of flowers and tapestries.

“This is insane.” Billy hisses.

Steve shrugs. “It’s home.” He says it hollowly, like it is very much not a home.

They end up in a bedroom the size of Billy’s apartment. It’s got bookshelves built into the walls, armchairs in front of a fireplace, a walk-in closet where Billy drops his bag of clothes, it’s own bathroom and a giant LED television mounted on the wall.

There’s silver-framed pictures on the fireplace and nightstands beside the bed. Family photos, solo shots of Steve as a kid, in bowties with a bowl cut. Billy examines them all.

“Robin’s nice.” Billy says casually.

Steve’s sitting on his bed, which is huge, by the way and absently scrolling through his facebook feed.

“She’s great.” He agrees flatly.

Billy wonders if she is great.

“Facebook.” Steve mumbles.

“What?” Billy asks, looking at Steve.

“We...fuck, we don't have anything on facebook, about us.” Steve says, almost in horror.

Billy shrugs, walks over to join him. “So what? Not everything needs to be online. We can just say we’re one of those couples who don't showboat our love on the internet.”

Steve winces at Billy’s words and nervously chews on his lip. Billy grabs Steve’s phone.

“Hey!” Steve shouts at him, reaching for it.

“Knock it off, c’mon, Steve -- stop it.” Billy says, smacking his hand away. “This is going to work. But only if you calm down. Right now the only thing in our way is you. You’re getting too caught up in the details. Just chill out, hold my fucking hand, and give me a gross pet name and we’ll get through this.”

He says all this, direct eye-contact, no blinking. Steve is quiet for a second before taking a deep, belly-full breath and closing his eyes, making an O with his mouth and exhaling slowly. Once he opens his eyes, Billy gives him a nod. Steve nods back.

*

Meeting the parents at dinner is a stifling affair. Steve’s mom isn’t going out of her way in the slightest to hide how much she does not like Billy. She turns up her nose at his clothes, eyes his hair like Steve’s isn’t an unkempt mess and politely insults him wherever she can fit in a jab.

“Oh, beer. How perfectly simple. A simple man is good.”

“I like that car, Billy. Very rustic.”

“There’s something to be said about plain fabric. Some can be too cumbersome to care for, it’s nice for some things to be easy.”

Billy grins, toothy and fire-eyed, sneaking glances at Steve who is very interested in his salad.

Steve’s dad isn’t much better. He keeps going back and forth between glaring at Billy and scrunching his face together, like he’s scrutinizing.

“And where did you say you’re going to go to school?”

“How exactly did you meet my son?”

“What do your parents do for a living?”

Robin keeps trying to steer the conversation away from them but the parents aren’t having that.

“How long have you two been dating?” Mrs. Harrington asks during the fish course.

“Six months.” Steve says.

“Two years.” Billy says, at the exact same time.

There’s an awkward pause and Billy can practically hear Steve’s heart rate triple. Billy laughs and takes Steve’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“He was courting me for a lot longer than we’ve actually been together. All those fond memories, right, bunny?” Billy looks at Steve fondly.

Robin starts choking on something and has to thump at her chest to clear it up. “Bunny?” She croaks out.

Steve is bright red and staring at Billy with glassy eyes, probably seething but that just makes it more fun.

“Yes.” Steve blurts out, voice a bit high. “We, uh, I...really wanted...to be his boyfriend.”

Billy barrels onward. “He did that thing, with the boombox, stood outside my place till I let him in. It was so sweet.”

Robin is silent-laughing, and her eyes are starting to water. “I’m dying.” She says. “No seriously, I am fucking losing it over here.”

“They don't need all the details, sweetie.” Steve says in a syrupy voice.

“But the letter, I have to tell them about the letter.”

“No, no, I don't think so. That letter was just for you.” Steve says nervously.

“I would like to frame the letter.” Robin pipes in, struggling to drink water as her shoulders quake from laughter.

“So anyways,” Billy continues. “I finally just said, hey, let’s toss the guy a bone here,”

Robin is howling at this point.

“And he did, and we’ve been in love ever since.” Steve supplies quickly. “Now where is that next course, I am starving.”

He makes dagger-eyes at Billy who just takes his hand again and kisses Steve’s knuckles.

Once dessert and coffee have been consumed Steve gets to his feet.

“Well, we’re exhausted. Right, Billy?” He chirps.

“Sweetie, c’mon, how often am I going to get this kinda face-time with your parents? Shouldn’t we stay?”

He is hamming it up and Mrs. Harrington purses her mouth like the very thought is making her nauseous.

“Now, now. We’ll see them tomorrow morning.” Steve smiles back. “Let’s go to bed.”

Mr. Harrington coughs heartily into his napkin.

They bolt and hole-up in Steve’s room.

After changing into pajamas -- Steve changes in the closet -- they sit on the bed watching television and Billy waits for the inevitable.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Steve finally snaps during their second episode of Golden Girls.

“I never gave you any indication otherwise.” Billy shrugs.

“That was so embarrassing, making it seem like I pined for you.”

“Well we had to say something, Harrington, and you were doing that Bambi-in-the-headlights thing, so I just rolled with it.”

“You rolled with it alright, I can’t believe you said all that shit.”

Billy snaps. “Fine, Steve, then you come up with stuff. Stop acting like a kid who doesn't want to get in trouble otherwise we’re going to get caught. Be a fucking man.”

That shuts Steve up for a long time. When Golden Girls ends and The Nanny starts up, Steve gets up from the bed and goes into the closet.

He’s only gone for a few moments before emerging with beer, little bottles of alcohol, and a bag of individually-wrapped chocolates.

“What the -- ”

“There’s a mini-fridge in there.” Steve mumbles.

He gives Billy a beer, deposits the bottles in between them and starts unwrapping a chocolate.

Finally, Steve says, “I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Billy replies, cracking open a beer.

“I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re really not.”

“...I’ll try harder.”

“Good.” Billy replies, eyes never leaving the television.

There’s this weird tension between them and it lasts for a little bit until Billy is so uncomfortable he has to say something.

“Dinner was...something.”

“Told you.” Steve grunts.

“Man, I don't know which one hated me more.”

“Mom, for sure. She loathes people who don't own at least three boats.”

“Damn, and I just have the one.” Billy deadpans.

Steve grins, actually grins, before he catches himself and pops another chocolate.

“This is like a fucking hotel.” Billy says, grabbing for a bottle.

“I learned very quickly growing up that the less time I have to spend outside this room, the better.” Steve says.

“I want to make so many ‘princess locked in an ivy tower’ jokes right now.” Billy says seriously.

“Shut up.” Steve snaps. “And it’s ivory, dumbass.”

Billy chuckles and drains one of the mini-bottles. “So, we’re essentially trapped in here, is that what you’re saying?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, we can go do whatever you want. There’s a couple libraries, an indoor pool, I actually convinced them to make a bowling alley in the basement.”

“You have a fucking bowling alley?” Billy asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, it was a birthday gift when I was, like, twelve.”

“Jesus christ, Steve.”

“Yeah, but we run the risk of dealing with them,” Steve’s parents, “So, ya know, wage your bets.”

Billy whistles. “Wow, you really don't like them.”

“No, I really do not.” Steve mumbles, eating another chocolate.

“So I gotta ask. Why me?” Billy opens another mini-bottle of vodka.

Steve looks away from the television, eyes Billy, then resumes watching. “You already asked that.” He points out.

“Yeah, but like, you could’ve found someone on Craigslist, like a lot of lonely losers do.”

“Wow, when you put it like that?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Like I said, it was a matter of convenience.”

Billy puts a hand over his heart and pretends to swoon. “I love it when men say that to me.”

Steve throws a handful of chocolate wrappers at him.

Billy grins. “Okay, so really though, what are we going to do tomorrow?”

Steve contemplates this for a moment.

“Ever been horse-back riding?”

part five

[evie568]

Work in progress

♫ ♪ Spotify playlist : Ella changed the Name — Previously named : Cut ; by eviewivi

Date of creation : December 2017 — 3h6m

Let’s start from the beginning.

— —

· Who am I?

My name is Evie.

It was not my given name. I chose it myself. I always wanted a long name, like “Isabella” or “Elisabeth”, but I was given Eve. So I decided to add another letter to it to make it longer (age 4/5).

Some of my diplomas say “Evie”, and others say “Eve”. My passport says “Eve” whereas my social insurance card says “Evie”.

It’s a bit of a mess.

— —

I was born in 1995, in London and moved to the South of France with my family (age 8).

My parents are both English (although they enjoy saying they’re French since they have duel nationality now). I have 2 older sisters and 1 older brother.

At the age of 8, I remember that I could count up to 30 in French and say “Bonjour”. That was about it. I was put in a French school straight away and it was scary at first.

— —

Learning to speak French came naturally as I was young. The grammar was a little harder, and I still have difficulty with it today.

I actually have difficulty in English too. I often make mistakes.

Being born in one country and moving to another can sometimes be confusing.

“Are you French?” Not really…

“English?” Neither…

“So what are you?” Good question.

You often get asked the same questions.

“Do you think in English or French?”

“Do you dream in English or French?”

“Do you prefer England or France?”

I don’t mind it though, they find it interesting.

— —

· What happed?

This is a difficult question. I’m not too sure as I am still discovering things everyday.

I am not writing this, cured from my mental illness. I am writing this, still going through tough times, trying to get better everyday.

I am writing this as a sort of therapy, to help myself and maybe others.

To understand myself better, for family and friends to understand me better and maybe for people to relate to.

Writing has never been my strong point but whether you are good at it or not, I do find it helps. You get to express yourself freely, like dancing, or painting or creating music… any form of art really.

— —

So back to the question : what happened?

In 2018, I was diagnosed with a mental illness I had never heard of before in my life : Borderline Personality Disorder.

— —

· How did this all start?

After finishing a Sound Engineering course back in 2015 (Montpellier, FR), I went back home to my parents house to look for a job in the music industry.

It was very hard to find a job with no work experience at all. It was a catch 22 situation : I needed a job to gain experience but couldn’t get a job without any prior experience.

I would end up playing The Sims everyday in my one piece pajamas. Drinking Desperados in the evening while dreaming of moving to Sydney.

My parents quickly noticed I was not being very productive, and gave me a speech.

I would often check Facebook and see my best friend at the time, having the time of her life as an Au Pair in London.

I was jealous.

— —

In October 2015, I took a plane to London to become an Au Pair.

I was an Au Pair for about 2 years in London, and it was so much fun.

I made friends with other Au Pairs from all over the world that were so lovely. We would go out to bars, concerts, parks, museums, festivals and so much more.

— —

Then I met Julien.

This part is difficult to write about as it is still very painful and I have forgotten a lot.

My therapist told me it’s hard to remember what hurt you so much. I find that to be true in this situation, but I’ll try my best.

— —

I’ve never had a boyfriend in my life. And I was 22 years old.

My brother created an online profile for me on a website called OKCupid. He told me that it wasn’t just for dating, but you could also make friends.

I met Julien on OKCupid. His username was “JulienB26” (his last name started with a B and he was 26… I know, very creative…). Mine was “BurnTogether” (the name of a music album I was OBSESSED with at the time)

He was not my type at all, but sent me the sweetest, most personal message I had ever received, so I thought “why not?”

We met in a rock bar in Camden Town called The Worlds End, and it was fun. We got on straight away and it was my best first date ever.

Long story short we ended up dating.

After only about a month, I left my Au Pair family and moved in with him in Notting Hill. He met my family and I met his.

My parents adored him! He seemed so perfect. He was cultured, dressed nicely, polite, had a good job, a nice and tidy apartment…

He wasn’t that perfect though.

— —

He smoked a lot of weed, was addicted to online video games and extremely jealous.

I remember one time when I was typing to my friend at the time, he snatched my phone out of my hands to see what I was writing. It was quite aggressive and I did not like it at all.

— —

My Au Pair friend Pri invited me one day to spend time with her and our new Au Pair friend to go out to pubs near London Bridge.

I refused, as Julien didn’t want me to go. He didn’t like Pri.

We (Julien and I) went to the rock bar we first met at instead. It was not fun. We didn’t have much left in common.

I felt the relationship slowly dying and there was a lot about him I did not like anymore. But breaking up with him was not an option.

I got drunk. I often drank. I liked it so much and would drink too much, too often.

The following day I saw about 5 to 10 messages from my friend Pri.

There was a terrorist attack that very same night at London Bridge.

She managed to escape but unfortunately our Au Pair friend, did not.

— —

Pri asked me to spend the day with her, the day we found out that our friend had passed away and, of course, I went.

We drank wine together and cried.

She didn’t want to spend the night alone and asked me if I could stay with her.

I agreed and asked Julien if it was okay with him. But it was not.

It was a problem for him and he refused.

I left.

— —

Julien had been acting strange for a couple of days.

I didn’t really know what to do and didn’t want to be egocentric and assume it was because of me, but I did.

Maybe he was thinking about his father who passed away?

I didn’t know, and he wasn’t telling me anything.

— —

One day, as I came home from babysitting, and had enough. I needed to know what was wrong.

He put down his joint, told his online friends on Discord that he needed to leave and turned around from his computer to face me.

— —

This part is very hard to remember.

He told me I didn’t deserve his love as he couldn’t love me to the fullest.

He wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to end things and needed some time to think.

Our age difference was a problem for him. He thought we were in two different phases of our life.

— —

I didn’t sleep that night.

I watched Netflix and cried until I saw the sun rise.

The next following days were difficult. It was the same pattern everyday.

I woke up sad, left for work angry, came back confused and went to sleep sad.

I didn’t deserve this.

No one deserves being with someone who isn’t sure they love them and needs time to think.

So I decided to leave.

I took a train to Paris and never came back.

— —

My brother who studied art in Paris, decided to spend a year of his education in Bergen, Norway. So he had an un-used flat in Paris for a year.

I asked my parents if I could stay in the flat while looking for a job in Paris.

They agreed.

— —

I felt fresh, like a new chapter of my life was starting. I didn’t know anyone (besides my brothers friends, Julie and Yolo).

I bought healthy, organic, vegan food and bought a membership to a gym that I would go to everyday for an hour.

Things were looking good. I felt positive.

— —

I quickly found a part-time job as a receptionist for a company involved in cryptocurrency.

It was so much fun.

I loved saying hello to all the staff that walked passed my desk in the morning.

My life was good, and it got even better.

— —

I went to the company’s seminar in a grand chateau outside of Paris.

One evening, we had special places to sit for dinner. It was a way of mixing all different employees from different services to connect.

I was sat at a table with one of the Vice Presidents of the company.

He was very kind and asked me what I do outside of work and what I would like to do in the future.

I had a couple of Desperados and told him that I originally wanted to join a company in the music industry and work my way up, but since working for the company, I had fallen in love with the it and would actually like to work my way up in this company.

This was not a sneaky plan or anything. I’m not that smart.

Fortunately though, the President of the company heard my tipsy conversation and called me over.

He asked me if what I said was true. I was astonished he knew my name!

— —

About two weeks after the seminar, the Vice President of Sales approached me asking if we could have a chat.

He had heard from the President that I wanted to join the company and offered me a position in the Sales department.

I had no experience whatsoever in sales, but accepted with great pleasure.

— —

My personal life on the other hand was not going so well.

I was drinking a lot and started cutting myself with broken glass as a punishment for drinking.

But I didn’t tell anyone or do anything about it as I felt in control of the situation.

I was on OKCupid again but comparing every profile to Julien.

In the spring of whatever year it was (2018 maybe?), I went back to London to see Julien as he had some of my belongings to give back to me.

We talked and walked in Hyde Park for about two hours. I wore his favorite dress.

I told him about my amazing new job and friends I had made. I was subtly bragging about my life. I wanted him to regret letting me go. And he did. He cried so much and felt very regretful. I felt happy even though I was suffering inside.

Towards the end of the walk he told me he was seeing someone new.

I did not expect that. I was shocked.

— —

I remember taking the underground back, and crying like I have never cried before while listening to Taylor Swift.

I felt that something inside of me had changed. Something bad.

— —

After returning back to Paris things got worse. I was drinking more and cutting deeper and more often.

Julien was still texting me at the time and I was not responding as I wanted to cut the cord with him.

He didn’t understand why and I remember telling him that I had never felt this bad in my life. I had never hated myself so much and needed space.

He told me that I needed to seek professional help.

I said goodbye and blocked him.

— —

On the day of Gay Pride 2018 in Paris.

I was drinking alone.

I didn’t eat anything that day and drank a bottle of white wine alone in my flat.

I remember grabbing a glass and smashing it on the floor, collecting the sharpest piece of glass I could find and cutting and cutting and cutting.

My friend Yolo came over and saw the pieces if glass all over the kitchen floor and saw me on the floor crying and bleeding.

She called an Uber and took me to a psychiatric hospital.

I was so desperate for help that I would have gone anywhere she took me.

We had to stop the Uber half way there so I could throw up and then continue on our route.

— —

Once there I remember talking to a professional, crying, about suicidal thoughts I had.

I remember doing a lot of research at the time and discovered a website.

It had all the information I was looking for on it.

I spent a night at the hospital Saint Anne to sober up.

The following day, they let me go.

— —

Even though things were bad, I still felt 100% in control of the situation.

I would self harm and drink almost daily.

I continued doing research about suicide and the sharpest object known to man.

One day I decided to order a pack of scalpels off of Amazon. They arrived quickly.

I was so eager to try them but had to go to work that day. So I just did a small cut on my arm and wow.

I didn’t press hard at all but bled. It was so satisfying at the time.

— —

On my friend Julie’s birthday I remember coming home from work, going to the closest shop to my flat and buying two 50cl cans of Desperados. I could tell the cashier was judging me, but I did not care much.

I put on a stand up comedy show on Netflix and proceeded to drink the beer.

Then I remembered the scalpels in my bedside draw.

I had promised myself not to self-harm anymore before the summer holidays as I would be around my family in t-shirts and shorts.

But I wanted to so badly. So I did.

I said to myself that it would be just one cut on my thigh. But it had to be satisfying enough.

So I cut my thigh.

— —

I forgot that it was a scalpel and in my mind it was just a piece of broken glass.

Big mistake.

I cut too deep.

I remember seeing the white fat through the cut in my thigh.

It didn’t hurt though.

Then the blood started to flow. There was so much.

I tried to close the cut with my hands, but blood got everywhere.

I panicked.

I didn’t want to disturbed Julie on her birthday so I phoned her boyfriend (who was also my work colleague).

He calmed me down and phoned the emergencies who arrived very quickly.

— —

I went to the hospital and had to have ten stitches in my thigh.

They also made me speak to a therapist there who told me I could go home.

So I went home.

— —

I was seeing a psychiatrist for a while (since the Gay Pride event)

That told me after the 10 stitches incident that I was depressed.

I still remember the feeling of her telling me I was depressed. I was shocked and didn’t want to believe her.

I had everything under control!

She suggested I take antidepressants and I accepted. Paroxetine 10mg

— —

I worked for the company for about a year.

It was amazing.

I traveled to Berlin and London. I also attended a “Blockchain Cruise” from Barcelona to Monaco to Ibiza.

I could bring whomever I wanted from the company.

I chose Jacques.

He seemed nice.

— —

On the cruise, there was a party going on and of course, we both attended it. I was a little bit tipsy and kissed a guy on the dance floor.

I remember seeing Jacques really angry and went over to talk to him.

We were talking near the main bar on the boat.

He seemed very drunk.

He tried to kiss me but I pushed him away.

He tried again and I had to push harder.

Someone felt the need to intervene and asked me if I needed help.

I told them that everything was okay and walked Jacques back to the room.

— —

After the trip I wanted to forget that side I saw of Jacques.

So I did.

I wanted to be his friend and he wanted to be mine.

— —

One evening we were having drinks with work colleagues in a whiskey bar.

I asked Jacques, as a friend, if he wanted to spend the night at my flat.

I felt very lonely and was a bit tipsy.

I didn’t want anything to happen between us, but I understand now how he thought differently.

— —

As we were going to bed, he tried again, like on the cruise to kiss me.

I pushed him away but he was stronger.

He then proceeded to take my pajama trousers off.

I pulled them back up. He pulled them back down.

I remember his fingers inside of me. I tried pushing him off of me but he grabbed my wrists.

He then, finally, saw that I was not happy.

So thankfully, he stopped.

I pulled my trousers back up and stayed in a foetus position until I fell asleep.

— —

The next morning we walked to work together.

I didn’t feel right. Something about that night felt wrong.

I phoned Julie and told her what had happened. She was in Greece at the time.

I sent an email to my boss telling him that I didn’t feel well and asking him if I could have the day off.

He accepted and I left with my friend Yolo who met me at work.

— —

We had a lovely day. We went to the cinema, went and got massages, and later on that evening, we were at a café and my friend Julie appeared out of nowhere!

She had taken an early plane back from Greece to come and see me.

I was so happy to see her!

— —

The next week, at the end of the day at work, round 7pm, my boss asked if he could talk to me.

He told me that the President of the company had heard that I slept with a married colleague.

This has never happened and I has shocked and embarrassed.

I told him this information was not true and he believed me.

He told me to tell him if anything ever happens between me and a colleague.

I felt the need to tell him that Jacques took advantage to me. And I did.

My voice was shacking. He was angry.

After our chat, I left and went home.

— —

I don’t remember this part very well but I remember going to see my therapist very drunk with a bottle in my hand to my appointment.

She called the emergencies and they took me to a psychiatric hospital, La Maison Blanche.

— —

It was very strange at first seeing all different kinds of patients, with all different mental illnesses.

(the person is drinking water from a puddle, not praying)

— —

I stayed for about 15 days there and made some friends.

It wasn’t as bad as it first seemed.

— —

My siblings were aware of what was going on with me. But once again, I still felt under control of what was happening.

They didn’t think so, and they were right to think that.

One day I ran away of the hospital and drank cans of beer in the side walk.

That is when my siblings decided to tell my parents what was going on.

After going back inside the hospital, one of the nurses told me that my mother was on her way to see me, she took a 4h train to come.

She had no idea what was going on before. It must have been a terrible shock for her.

I felt so scared and embarrassed for her to see me in this blue outfit they had given me but they refused to give me back my clothes.

— —

It was extremely difficult to balance my work and personal mental health.

I was coming to terms with my depression and accepting that I was, in fact, never in control of anything that was happening to me.

— —

After leaving the hospital, I went back to work.

It was very awkward at first.

The President of the company asked to speak with me about my long absence.

I didn’t want to go into details, so I just mentioned that I was at the hospital without saying why, or what kind of hospital…

Later that same day, someone from human resources also asked to speak to me.

She was asking is everything was okay and I told her what my therapist had told me to say, that I had a really sore throat.

Now looking back at it, I know that she knew exactly where I was. In a psychiatric hospital.

The papers the hospital were giving to my company to cover my absence, had the address on them.

So she knew…

— —

One day, my boss got fired out of the blue. He was such an amazing person and work colleague. He didn’t deserve this.

Later that month, my other Sales colleague, also got fired.

Cryptocurrency was not doing as well as it was before, and the company was slowly dying.

I was next to get fired.

It was the day before my birthday.

I remember my new, less cool boss, asked me to have a word with him and a person from HR.

I honestly thought at the time that I was getting a raise. Lol.

The conversation was very awkward, it lasted about 15 minutes. I don’t remember much of what was said.

They told me to leave straight away and not mention to anyone that I got fired.

I told my friend/colleague on Slack before leaving the building.

He was worried he was next to get fired.

So I sent him a brief message saying “turns out you were right about the Sales team getting fired. I have to leave now. Please don’t tell anyone.”

I left and went home.

— —

As I got home I lay on the sofa staring into oblivion.

I wanted to cry. I said to myself that this is a situation most people would cry.

But it was so hard to shed a tear.

I felt numb.

— —

I phoned my mother and told her what had happened. She was worried I would do something bad.

I invited my friend, Alienor, that I made from the hospital over, and we drank beer and took cocaine.

My father phoned me.

He could hear by my voice that I had drank.

My parents contacted Yolo to come pick me up and take me back to the hospital by Uber.

I felt obliged to go with her, so I went and Alienor left.

I only stayed one night or maybe two. I don’t really remember.

— —

I continued living in Paris for a couple of months, without a job.

I would drink everyday. Cans of Heineken beer.

I would wake up and drink straight away, while watching BoJack Horseman.

Then I would fall asleep around 6pm.

Everyday was the same pattern. Beer and BoJack.

— —

I had stopped self harming, as I had promised myself since the 10 stitches to never start again. But suicide was still a big subject in my mind.

The website I had discovered, has the most common methods of suicide in order of success rate. And hanging myself seemed like an okay technique.

I wanted to test it out without actually killing myself.

I know it sounds weird.

I wanted to try and see if it was doable without actually doing it all the way.

——

I took the cotton belt off from my work trousers. I thought to myself that I wouldn’t need it anymore, as I don’t have a job anymore.

I tied a knot around my clothes hanger in my wardrobe, and tied the other side around my neck.

Then, I very gently bent my legs (as I could touch the floor).

The next thing I remember is waking up with the belt around my neck, in my wardrobe.

Saliva was all over my mouth. Snot was dripping from my nose.

It scared me.

I couldn’t undo the tight knot around my neck so cut it off with a pair of kitchen scissors.

I threw the belt in the bin and laid in my bed in a state of shock.

I phoned a friend at the time, and told him what just happened to me.

He came over and we talked about it.

— —

I liked him, he promised not to tell anyone and let me drink.

Yolo and Julie where more worried and protective. They would judge how much I would drink, and I didn’t really like that.

— —

One day, a colleague/friend of mine was organizing a small party at his house with about 8 people.

Julie, her boyfriend, Yolo and I all went along with other ex-work colleagues.

I got drunk quickly. And when I drank, I would talk too much.

I told a friend/ex-work colleague that I tried to hang myself the other day just to try it out but ended up fainting.

— —

Later that evening, I went home to my flat and fell asleep.

Around 3 in the morning, my door bell rang.

I didn’t know who it was, but opened the door all tired.

It was Julie, Yolo and another friend.

They were really worried about me.

What I had said at that party has gotten out, and everyone knew about it.

They told me I needed to go back to the hospital.

So I did the very next morning.

— —

I went back to The Maison Blanche, and stayed there for 12 nights.

One of the male nurses saw me and asked why I was back, again.

I told him what had happened and he was very nice. He gave me advice and listened to me.

He mentioned that we should go out for drinks once I get out of the hospital. I agreed and gave him my number.

— —

We texted that night, while I was in my hospital bed.

Our text messages were very flirtatious.

The next following days we had sexual relations in my hospital room, and in the storage room.

— —

Once I left La Maison Blanche, I invited Alienor over to drink and take cocaine.

And I told her about my romantic affair I had at the hospital.

She didn’t seem surprised. She told me that another female patient had sexual relations with a nurse there too, and she wondered if it was the same nurse. So did I.

We sent a message to the girl in question and asked her to describe the male nurse she had relations with.

It was him. Paul. And she was 17.

— —

This suddenly felt wrong and I had to tell someone. So I told my mother about Paul and also Jacques.

She was really angry. More so about Paul the nurse than Jacques. But I felt the opposite.

I didn’t feel taken advantage of by Paul. But Jaques really hurt me.

My mother wanted me to report both of them to the police, so I did.

— —

My parents didn’t trust me living alone in such a big city so far away. I needed help.

In May 2019 I want to Rehab for alcohol and cocaine addiction.

I spent one month there. It was much nicer than the hospital. They had a ping-ping table, a chess set and many more activities.

I spent a month in Rehab and it was really nice to be away from alcohol.

Alcohol affected me in bad ways.

I would say so many things I regret. I would hurt myself and make bad decisions.

I drank so much that when I didn’t, I would uncontrollably shake and feel faintish.

Rehab made me want to stop forever.

— —

My mother would visit me often and it was lovely to see her. She was very supportive.

After leaving Rehab, it was time for me to leave Paris forever and move back in with my parents down South of France.

I needed to not be alone. I needed help.

— —

I moved back into my old bedroom with my vinyls and The White Stripes posters. It was comforting.

I was now taking more medication : Paroxetine (20mg) and Abilify (5mg).

And it was making me feel better.

My mother wanted me to see one of the best therapists in France.

So I started seeing a new psychiatrist in Bordeaux, FR (1h away by train) every two weeks.

At first we did not get along.

I wanted him to help me forget about my ex, but he explained that it was not possible to forget the past, you must accept it as part of you, like a scar.

He wanted me start writing about my feelings in a journal. I was not good at it and did not enjoy it. But I did it anyway.

— —

A few months later, I was starting to feel much better and stronger.

My therapist was really helping me, and so was my family.

I decided it was time to find a job near my parents house.

In October 2019, I found a job as an Exhibition Assistant for a company in events.

I was saving up to move to Sydney, Australia. To start a new life far away. To a place I’ve always wanted to go to.

I’ve never been to Australia but didn’t care.

— —

Working for this company was not fun, and a lot of pressure. They wanted to me make a minimum of 200 phone calls a day. And I hated being on the phone.

I told my therapist about my job being very pressurizing and he told me to quite and move to Sydney sooner.

That sounded like a great plan! I was so happy about this decision.

I went home and bought myself a Working Holiday Visa.

— —

My psychiatrist decided it was time to stop my medication as I was doing really well.

So I stopped them gradually.

The withdraw effects were a nightmare.

I was sweating, felt nauseous, had diarrhea, felt extremely emotional…

But that only lasted for about 2 weeks.

I was so happy that I wasn’t taking any medication anymore!

I felt on top of the world.

— —

For New Years Eve, I decided to go see my old friends from when I was doing my Sound Engineering course.

I told them about what had happened to me, and I could see it made them sad. They told me that I was such a happy person before. That I didn’t deserve this.

I told them I was fine now and that it was in the past.

I didn’t drink on NYE and they respected that. But I felt odd. I felt numb for some reason. They loved me so much and expressed it. But I didn’t seem to feel the same way. I used to. But not anymore. I didn’t feel love for anyone and that worried me. I felt like a ghost.

— —

My mother picked me up and could tell that I was different.

I went to work the following day and did not feel well at all.

I could feel it all coming back. I was so scared and ashamed of relapsing. But I knew I was.

I told my boss that I wasn’t feeling well and she let me go home.

I got back home and told my parents : I think I’m depressed again…

— —

I saw my therapist again and every session he would read what I wrote.

This was the last time I wrote in my diary.

He closed my black book and called my mother in.

He told me I needed to go back to a psychiatric hospital.

— —

My parents drove me back home from Bordeaux after that session and we packed a suitcase and went to the nearest psychiatric hospital. La Candelie in Agen.

I remember hearing my therapist on the phone to the hospital telling them I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I had no idea what that was.

— —

I arrived at La Candelie and spent 7 weeks there.

I was not in a good state of mind.

I tried hanging myself multiple times there in the shower but couldn’t let go of all of my weight by bending my legs. I just couldn’t.

I cut myself often and managed to bring in Vodka.

It was a mess.

— —

They put me in the isolation room for one night.

The isolation room was horrific.

They gave me paper pajamas that would rip with the slightest movement.

The door was locked and I had a bucket to pee in.

I was not allowed a pillow or a blanket. It was so cold and my pajamas were ripped everywhere.

The next morning, I saw a psychiatrist from the hospital and told him that I was fine and just being dramatic. I did not want to go back there.

— —

After 7 long weeks I was finally allowed out.

It was a long time.

I was now on even more medication : Paroxetine, Abilify, Tercian, Alprazolam and Mirtazapine.

I felt so numb. Better, but numb.

Australia was not an option anymore. Not for a while anyway.

— —

Once I left the hospital, I was obliged to have a nurse come to my parents house every morning and evening to make sure that I take all my medication properly.

I also had to go a psychological-medical center once a week.

I got tired of explaining what happened when, where and why. It was hard to remember. So I decided to write all the bullet points down on a piece of paper.

— —

· Where am I now?

Today is the 13th of May 2021. I still suffer from my mental illness even though I wish it was all in the past.

I’m currently taking Mirtazapine, Abilify and Alprazolam and only see a nurse once a week to restock on medication.

My therapist appointments have been elongated to once a month.

I haven’t self harmed in about a year.

I do however still have episodes with suicidal thoughts, but they are less severe.

My therapist from Paris once told me that you will have ups and downs, but with time the ups will be less up and the downs less down.

It’s starting to make sense now.

I currently live in a small city called Agen (30m drive from my parents house) with my boyfriend Yann. He’s the best.

We met through an old friend of mine that I reconnected with last year.

I still don’t have many friends where I live, as they are all over the place (Montpellier, London and Paris)

— —

My mother took an online course about Borderline Personality Disorder, which I really appreciate. I feel like maybe she understands a part of me more.

— —

Julie left Paris and moved to Montpellier to become a Yoga instructor. She and her boyfriend are still together, building their new life in the South of France.

— —

Yolo is still in Paris, she recently got a job as a video editor for a cool company. She’s doing great.

— —

Pri is still in London, not as an Au Pair anymore but as a chef by day, and an Art Salon organizer by night. She’s always been very productive and I admire that.

— —

Alienor unfortunately is back in the hospital in Paris, La Maison Blanche, as she tried to commit suicide by jumping off of a bridge above train rails. She lost both of her legs and one arm, but thankfully survived.

— —

The criminal cases concerning Jacques and Paul the nurse, are still going on. It’s been a very long process but I hope it ends soon.

— —

I don’t have any news at all regarding Julien and do not plan on having any.

— —

· Why am I writing this?

Like I wrote at the beginning of this, longer than expected text, about my mental health, I am writing this for me, my family and friends and hopefully others who may relate to it and seek help if they need it.

I often mentioned that I felt under control of the situation, but I was wrong. So maybe someone reading this might make the decision to seek help.

I have no words to describe how thankful I am to the people who helped me.

This is not a suicide note, it’s the opposite. It’s a “life” note.

A note to remind me that some days can be nice and happy, but others can be very, very hard. But you must go on. You must keep on fighting. It might seem like an endless battle but it gets better.

Sometimes that’s hard to see. But I see it now.

[red-will]

I don't know what to do with good white people.

I've been surrounded by good white people my whole life. Good white people living in my neighborhood, who returned our dog when he got loose; good white teachers in elementary school who pushed books into my hands; good white professors at Stanford, a Bay Area bastion of goodwhiteness, who recommended me M.F.A. programs where I met good white writers, liberal enough for a Portlandia sketch.

I should be grateful for this. Who, in generations of my family, has ever been surrounded by so many good white people? My mother was born to sharecroppers in Louisiana; she used to measure her feet with a piece of string because they could not try on shoes in the store. She tells me of a white policeman who humiliated her mother by forcing her to empty her purse on the store counter just so he could watch her few coins spiral out.

Two summers ago, my mother showed me the welfare reports written about her family. The welfare officer, a white woman, observed my family with a careful, anthropological eye. She described the children, including my mother, as "nice and clean." She asked personal questions (did my grandmother have a boyfriend?) and wrote her findings in a detached tone. She wondered why my grandmother, an illiterate Black mother of nine living in the Jim Crow South, struggled to find a steady job. Maybe, she wrote in her loopy scrawl, my grandmother wasn't searching hard enough.

This faded report is the type of official document a historian might consult if he were re-constructing the story of my family. The author, this white welfare officer, writes as if she is an objective observer, but she tells a well-worn story of Black women who refuse to work and instead depend on welfare. Occasionally, her clinical tone breaks down. Once, she notes that my mother is pretty. She probably considered herself a good white person.

In the wake of the Darren Wilson non-indictment, I've only deleted one racist Facebook friend. This friend, as barely a friend as a high school classmate can be, re-posted a rant calling rioters niggers. (She was not a good white person.) Most of my white friends have responded to recent events with empathy or outrage. Some have joined protests. Others have posted Criming While White stories, a hashtag that has been criticized for detracting from Black voices. Look at me, the hashtag screams, I know that I am privileged. I am a good white person. Join me and remind others that you are a good white person too.

Over the past two weeks, I've seen good white people congratulate themselves for deleting racist friends or debating family members or performing small acts of kindness to Black people. Sometimes I think I'd prefer racist trolling to this grade of self-aggrandizement. A racist troll is easy to dismiss. He does not think decency is enough. Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good?

Over the past two weeks, I have fluctuated between anger and grief. I feel surrounded by Black death. What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.

When my father was a young man, he was arrested at gunpoint. He was a Deputy District Attorney at the time, driving home one night from bible study when LAPD pulled him over. A traffic violation, he'd thought, until officers swarmed his car with shotguns aimed at his head. The cops refused to look in his wallet at his badge. They cuffed him and threw him on the curb.

My father is mostly thankful that he'd stayed calm. In his shock, he had done nothing. That's what he believes saved his life.

I think about this while I watch Eric Garner die. For months, I avoided the video, until we arrived at another officer non-indictment. Now I've seen the video of Garner's death, as well as a second video I find even more disturbing. This second video, taken immediately after Garner has been killed by a banned chokehold, shows officers attempting to speak to him, asking him to respond to EMTs. They do not yet know that he is dead, and there's something about this moment, officers shuffling around as an EMT seeks a pulse, that is so bafflingly and frustratingly human, so different from the five officers lunging and wrangling Garner to the ground.

In the wake of this non-indictment, a surprising coalition of detractors has emerged. Not just black and brown students hitting the streets in protest but conservative stalwarts, like Bill O'Reilly or John Boehner, criticizing the lack of justice. Even George W. Bush weighed in, calling the grand jury's decision "sad." But even though many find Garner's death wrong, others refuse to believe that race played a role. His death was the result of overzealous policing, a series of bad individual choices. It would have happened to a white guy. The same way in Cleveland, a 12-year-old Black boy named Tamir Rice was killed by officers for playing with a toy gun. An unfortunate tragedy, but not racial. Any white kid playing with a realistic-looking toy gun would have been killed too.

Darren Wilson has been unrepentant about taking Mike Brown's life. He insists he could not have done anything differently. Daniel Pantaleo has offered condolences to the Garner family, admitting that he "feels very bad" about Garner's death.

"It is never my intention to harm anyone," he said.

I don't know which is worse, the unrepentant killer or the man who insists to the end that he meant well.

A year ago, outside the Orange County airport, a white woman cut in front of me at the luggage check. She had been standing next to me, and soon as the luggage handlers called next, she swooped up her things and went to the counter. She'd cut me because I was black. Or maybe because I was young. Maybe she was running late for her flight or maybe she was just rude. She would've cut me if I had been a white woman like her. She would've cut me if I had been anyone.

Of course, the woman ended up on my flight, and of course, she was seated right next to me. Before the flight took off, she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry if I cut you earlier. I didn't see you standing there."

I often hear good white people ask why people of color must make everything about race, as if we enjoy considering racism as a motivation. I wish I never had to cycle through these small interactions and wonder: Am I overthinking? Am I just being paranoid? It's exhausting.

"It was a lot simpler in the rural South," my mother tells me. "White people let you know right away where you stood."

The problem is that you can never know someone else's intentions. And sometimes I feel like I live in a world where I'm forced to parse through the intentions of people who have no interest in knowing mine. A grand jury believed that Darren Wilson was a good officer doing his job. This same grand jury believed than an eighteen-year-old kid in a monstrous rage charged into a hailstorm of bullets toward a cop's gun.

Wilson described Michael Brown as a black brute, a demon. No one questioned Michael Brown's intentions. A stereotype does not have complex, individual motivations. A stereotype, treated as such, can be forced into whatever action we expect.

I spent a four hour flight trying not to wonder about the white woman's intentions. But why would she think about mine? She didn't even see me.

In elementary school, my older sister came home one day crying. She had learned about the Ku Klux Klan in class that day and she was afraid that men in white hoods would attack us. My father told her there was nothing to worry about.

"If a Klansman sat at this table right now," he said, "I'd laugh right in his face."

My mother tells stories of Klansmen riding at night, of how her grandmother worried when the doctor's son—a white boy—visited her youngest sister because she feared the Klan would burn down their home. When I was a child, I only saw the Klan in made-for-TV civil rights movies or on theatrical episodes of Jerry Springer. My parents knew what we would later learn, that in the nineties, in our California home, surrounded by good white people, we had more to fear than racism that announces itself.

We all want to believe in progress, in history that marches forward in a neat line, in transcended differences and growing acceptance, in how good the good white people have become. So we expect racism to appear, cartoonishly evil like a Disney villain. As if a racist cop is one who wakes in the morning, twirling his mustache and rubbing his hands together as he plots how to destroy black lives.

I don't think Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo set out to kill Black men. I'm sure the cops who arrested my father meant well. But what good are your good intentions if they kill us?

When my friends and I discuss people we dislike, we often end our conversations with, "But he means well."

We always land here, because we want to affirm ourselves as fair, non-judgmental people who examine a person not only by what he does but also by what he intends to. After all, aren't all of us standing in the gap between who we are and who we try to be? Isn't it human to allow those we dislike—even those who harm us—a residence in this space as well?

"You know what? He means well," we say. We lean on this, and the phrase is so condescending, so cloyingly sweet, so hollow, that I'd almost rather anyone say anything else about me than how awful I am despite how good I intend to be.

I think about this during a car ride last weekend with my dad, where he tells me what happened once the cops finally realized they had arrested the wrong man. They picked him up from the curb, brushed him off.

"Sorry, buddy," an officer said, unlocking his handcuffs.

They'd made an honest mistake. He'd fit the description. Well, of course he did. The description is always the same. The police escorted my father onto the road. My father, not yet my father, drove all the way home without remembering to turn his headlights on.

Brit Bennett recently earned her M.F.A. in creative writing at the the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. She is currently a Zell Postgraduate Fellow, where she is working on her first novel.

[phgq]

Surprising loved ones in the new normal

#PHnews: Surprising loved ones in the new normal

MANILA – The doorbell rings and you’re greeted by a delivery person who tells you that “someone” ordered food for you. But instead of handing you the delivery, she tells you that you need to pick it up from the car’s trunk.

You’re suspicious, but agree to do so. She leads you to her car and when she opens the trunk—surprise! It’s decorated with nearly a dozen balloons, lights, and a streamer that says “I miss you!” You later realize that it’s from your boyfriend who’s currently abroad working to save enough for your future together.

This is what goes on in the “car trunk surprise” business that’s making rounds on social media as a new way to surprise loved ones in the new normal that currently restricts travel and bans large gatherings due to threat of Covid-19 pandemic. It’s also a side hustle which has helped displaced cruise-line worker Babe Ruth Tolentino, 30, earn extra cash after major cruise operators suspended their sailings.

“Nag-decide ako na mag-start ng business na puwede sa’kin. Ngayong pandemic, mahirap magwork ngayon kung saan-saan. Meron naman kaming car, so ‘yun na lang yung naisip ko (I decided to start business that I can handle. Now that we have pandemic, it’s difficult to go around to work. We have car, so I came out with this idea) instead of just delivering food or other items,” Tolentino told the Philippine News Agency.

Tolentino said she and her sisters lost their jobs because of the pandemic so she thought of making use of their cars to delivery items to make profit.

“Sabay-sabay kami nawalan ng work. Ayun nga, may mga kotse then wala naman kaming mahanap na work, ‘yun na lang (We lost our jobs at the same time. We had cars but we couldn’t find work, so that’s what we thought of),” she added. 

(Clockwise) Aira Aranas, Ella Aranas and Babe Ruth Tolentino, the brains behind "Mi Amor Car Trunk Surprise", are all smiles as they join car trunk surprise recipient Mima for a photo. (Contributed photo)

Since her sisters were crafty, she decided to combine their artistic talents and her social skills to put up a business that eventually became known as “Mi Amor Car Trunk Surprise”. Mi Amor, which in Spanish means “my love” is the perfect tagline considering they offer surprise packages meant to be delivered to loved ones.

“Yung mga sisters ko, sila yung may knowledge sa mga decorations so parang in-adopt ko nalang din ‘yun para in one plan na ganun, sama-sama kami. Sila yung nagde-decorate, ako lang yung nag-a-approve ng mga bookings (My sisters, they’re the ones with knowledge in decorations so I adopted that so that we have this joint plan we can work on together. They make the decorations, I approve the bookings),” she said.

The car trunk surprise caters to different occasions -- birthdays, anniversaries, proposals, bridal showers, or even a random day you decided you want to win back your ex-lover.

Tolentino said that preparing a car trunk surprise would usually take two to three days, depending on the theme of the client’s preference. They would have to print customized streamers, photos of the recipient to put on a clothesline, and a letter.

Buying the flowers and cake and other food would have to be done on the day of the delivery to guarantee freshness. Setting up the car trunk surprise would only take around an hour, she said.

But the most challenging part is looking for the recipient’s address, she said: “lalo na kung yung bahay nasa liblib (especially if the house is in a remote place).”

The car trunk surprise caters to different occasions -- birthdays, anniversaries, proposals, bridal showers, or even a random day you decided you want to win back your ex-lover. (Contributed photos)

Most accommodating

Although there is a bunch of other car trunk surprise businesses around, Tolentino considers theirs the most accommodating when it comes to customers’ requests. It also helps that it’s among the most affordable car trunk services around.

“What I can say is affordable siya (It’s affordable). Sa reviews, sinasabi nila mas madali kaming kausap ganun (In reviews, people say we’re easy to talk to),” she said.

The cheapest car trunk surprise package, Package A costs PHP1,499 inclusive of a theme of your choice, music to be played when the trunk is opened, balloons, five to 10 photos to be hung up, coated mallows, a special message card.

Package B, which costs PHP1,999, offers the same inclusions as Package A but with a box of banana cupcakes and a plush toy. Package C, which costs PHP2,499, also offers the same inclusions but with a choice of either two boxes of banana cupcakes or brownies, a small expensive toy, and a flower bouquet.

On top of the package is a delivery fee which will be computed based on distance, but clients who live within Biñán, Laguna don’t have to pay a single centavo since it’s where Tolentino and her sisters currently live.

To date, Mi Amor Car Trunk Surprise has surprised recipients from all over Region 4-A or Calabarzon (Cavite, Laguna, Batangas, Rizal and Quezon).

She said that her experience as a cruise line worker has trained her to be customer service driven such that she always makes it a point that her clients are given their money’s worth.

“Before kami nag-start, nag-observe din naman ako. I tried to inquire sa mga ganyan, then sometimes ay ‘hindi po puwede ma’am, may ganito, ganyan’ sabi ko baka puwede po medyo mababa yung price, ‘hindi rin po.’ Hindi accommodating masyado ‘to. I said iibahin ko siya sa way ko (Before we started with our business, I observed how others did it. I tried to inquire with other shops, then sometimes they’d say, ‘we can’t do that, ma’am because of this and that’ and I’d ask, maybe we can get a lower price, they’d say, ‘we can’t do that.’ They’re not that accommodating. So I said, I’ll take a different approach),” she said.

Tolentino’s quest to be more accommodating eventually paid off as clients have been leaving rave reviews on their official Facebook Page.

Three months after they launched their car trunk surprise business, Tolentino and her sisters opened a party supplies kiosk to cater to those who also wanted to have mini parties in their homes.

The "Mi Amor Surprise Me" party supplies kiosk was opened three months after the launch of their car trunk surprise business. (Contributed photo)

Tug at heartstrings

This Valentine’s Day, she said many potential clients have started inquiring their services. But she said she can only accept as much as three clients per day.

“Feb. 14 is para dito lang sa Biñan kasi super busy ko po. Hindi ko rin sila maipagda-drive kasi yung store namin is tatlo, pupuntahan ko every hour, tse-check ko kung ano na status so magiging busy din ako. Tatlo lang kukunin namin (We will only cater to those living within Biñan on Feb. 14 because I’d be super busy that day. I won’t be able to drive because we have three stores which I visit every hour to check. So we can only book about three clients),” she said.

For Tolentino, the best part about their business is getting to witness the happy look on recipients faces the very moment they receive the surprise.

“Iba yung feeling. Minsan nga naiiyak din kami lalo na kapag mga parents yung sinu-surprise ganun. Nakakadala yung emotions (It feels different. Sometimes we also feel like crying when clients surprise their parents. We get carried away with emotions),” she said.

She said most of their clients are overseas Filipino workers (OFWs) or siblings who want to surprise their elderly parents.

“Kasi nga hindi na nakauwi. Mostly yung mga nagpapa-surprise 60th birthday, 18th ganun. Mga hindi na nakapag-party sa bahay (It’s because they can’t come home. Most of those who avail of our services are those who want a surprise for 60th birthdays or 18th birthdays. Those who can’t throw parties in their homes),” she said.

Until now, Tolentino says that she and her siblings find time to surprise their own parents given their knack for pulling off surprises.

“Mahirap nga lang sila isurprise kasi siyempre magkakasama kami sa bahay. Ngayong pandemic triny naming i-surprise sa resort (It’s difficult to pull off a surprise because we live in the same house. But this pandemic, we tried surprising them by taking them to a resort),” she added.

When cruise lines resume operations, Tolentino plans to get her job back and let her sisters manage their party supplies business.

“Yung sa car trunk, ‘yun ang hindi ko pa sure kung paano ko siya gagawin. Marunong din naman mag-drive yung mom ko so baka ituloy pa rin nila (As for the car trunk business, that’s what I’m not quite sure about doing. My mom knows how to drive, so they might keep doing it),” she said. (PNA)

  ***

References:

* Philippine News Agency. "Surprising loved ones in the new normal." Philippine News Agency. https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1130489 (accessed February 14, 2021 at 09:53PM UTC+14).

* Philippine News Agency. "Surprising loved ones in the new normal." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1130489 (archived).

[dailyaudiobible]

10/20/2020 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 35:1-36:32, 1 Timothy 5:1-25, Psalms 89:14-37, Proverbs 25:25-27

Today is the 20th day of October welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today. It is a joy to come around the Global Campfire and take the next step forward, which is what we do every day. And, so, let's dive in. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week. Jeremiah, chapters 35 and 36 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and we thank You for continuing the journey and…and taking us deeper and deeper and deeper into it. We thank You for the admonition to respect those who are older than us, who are before us, who are wiser than us, who have lived longer than us who are brothers and sisters in Christ. We see them as Fathers and mothers and that we should see those that are contemporary with us as brothers and sisters, with all purity, that this is the posture that we have toward one another, the posture of a family and we thank You that You have made us a family, Your family, not just any group of people who have decided to bind themselves together in some sort of family apparatus, Your family on this earth. And, so, Father, it's been a tense year and we've had every opportunity to do anything but treat each other like family. Or maybe we've treated each other like family in our darkest moments but when we’re really after each, when we’re really, really perturbed and the gloves are off but You have invited us to be unified, that You are the head of this household as it were, that You are the Father and that we are Your children and that we submit to You. And, so, as we move forward in these times, these pretty tense tenuous weeks that we find ourselves in, that You bind us together in love, that we treat each other in love, that we do what we do in Your name, that we stop and consider whether or not what we’re doing can be done in Your name because we represent You upon this earth. We are Your children and we are in this together. So, we represent the family, the family of God. And, so, Holy Spirit come and help us to behave appropriately we ask in the precious and mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

Community Prayer and Praise:

My name is David Browning from Savannah Georgia and this is my first time calling in and I’m calling in because on October 12th I heard God’s Smiles and I heard her prayer request and I felt…I heard the agony in her voice and I felt the agony in her pain and it brought me to tears and I just…I just prayed for her, I just prayed in agony and…and in tears for her for the relief of her pain. She is…her attitude is so phenomenal, and she is so positive and upbeat and blesses me so much every day. I pray for you God’s Smiles, every day I pray for you and for relief from your pain and for healing for your condition. I love you all DAB. I thank you Brian Hardin and your family for everything you’ve done. The DAB has brought incredible changes in my life in the last six months. I love you all and keep on keeping on. Good night.

This is Valerie calling for the first time from __ Arkansas and I am calling in regard to our 35-year-old son. He is a very good-looking intelligent boy going to respiratory therapy school at the time. He’s had asthma all his life and wants to help others with breathing difficulties but right now he’s in a very dark place mentally. He’s always struggled with anxiety and depression most of his life but right now he says he sees no light at the end of the tunnel and he says his quality of life is so, so bad that he really wants to take his own life. He’s socially isolated taking online classes. His brother has quit having anything to do with him and he just feels like he’s totally alone in this world. He’s not found a suitable woman yet to be a wife. He would love to get married and have children and he’s given up all hope on that. He’s telling me that any day now is going to be his last. As you know, as a mom this is very, very distressing, it’s heartbreaking, it’s crushing. I just appreciate everyone’s prayers for him, and I thank you so much.

Hi DABbers this is Kira from Denver and I put this on Facebook already but I wanted to lead my DAB family know that I did make a huge, huge leap and confronted my boyfriend and said I didn’t want to fornicate anymore but also I didn’t want to get married and I can see us being together forever. He got really really upset. I said…he said I’ll do anything. What can I do to make it better? And I said we need help. But then he switched, started gathering his stuff, and he’s been out and coming back. So, we want prayer for that. But to avoid him yesterday I went on a solo outing myself and I was walking along beautiful area outside Denver sort of mountainous doing a stretch and this woman came…saw me and came up to me and apparently was warning me about stretching like this. Was rare, but you could get hurt. She had torn her clavicle and she was in so much pain for years and years and years, so bummed she couldn’t do yoga anymore to make it better. We started crying and I started telling her about my testimony and my story and my beliefs and we walked together and talked together for a while. I asked her if I could pray for her and she said yes. She said her mom had prayed for her for years and years. She’s a little older…older woman. So just older than me. Anyway, please pray for Tammy. I was thinking a lot of God’s Smile when she was telling me about her pain. Anyway, it was nice to share my testimony through this grief and really hard stuff I’m going through. I love you DABbers…

Dear DAB family this is Dove from Northern California calling on October 14th, 2020. I’ve been a listener for seven years and this podcast has truly changed my life. I suffer from excessive self-reliance and a reluctance to ask for help but God has brought to me my knees with my son’s opioid addiction over the past 15 years. I admit my powerlessness over my son’s addiction. My son has not had faith in God, and he is also felt that he could solve his own problems despite his addiction. However, he has been in jail for the past 18 months and will go before a judge on Monday, November 23rd for sentencing. Since being in jail my son has been a problem the communicative, intelligent, and thoughtful person that he was prior to his addiction. He has expressed gratitude for Bible verses that I send to him. Please pray with me that his court appointed attorney will prepare for the court date thoroughly and will represent my son to the best of his ability. Please also pray that my son will be able to express his remorse and that the judge will find that my son is worthy of a chance at rehabilitation through his placement recommendation after his sentencing. Primarily I ask you DAB family to pray for my son to accept Jesus as his Lord and Savior for him to humble himself before the Lord and for him to accept the forgiveness Jesus offered…offers and for his ultimate redemption. This is a lot to ask in my first call, but I trust that you will include him in your prayers. Thank you DAB.

Hi Daily Audio Bible family this is Stanley from Maryland. I just wanted to shout out Brian for writing of the book…oh…what’s it called? The God of Your Story, yeah. One-year adventure with the God of Your Story. Man, it’s just incredible to kind of see words on page. I know Brian does a good job of explaining a lot of what we are reading like day after day but I just want to kind give praise for this book because it…it reads less like a book and more like a…man…just…I don’t know how to say it…just a kind of explanation….not an explanation but expanding on the reading and it’s so encouraging to just read after listening to the actual reading. It’s something I can…I can ponder for the rest of the day. I’m a visual person…person, I’d like to think. I learn more visually. So, for me and if you’re…for me it helps and if you’re like…like me and you like to see the words on the paper it helps a lot. And, so, I really appreciate it and…and just want to encourage you as you continue to go through this journey with…with…with the community, pick up the God of Your Story or buy it maybe for a Christmas gift so you can start it next year. It’s not too late and it’s definitely been a blessing in my life. I…I love it and I love the gold little placeholder in the middle, the ribbon. It’s…it’s just…it’s beautiful…it’s a beautiful, beautiful design. All right. Stay humble.

Hello DABbers, this is Kristen Brown at __ Louisiana I’m calling to say we’re about to have a double DABber baby. First, we had a DABber baby __ then we had we had the first grandbaby now we’re about to have a double DABBer baby. Congratulations Jill and Ben. Family I’m calling for prayers for my sister. She’s in the hospital with the virus and she’s in critical condition her name is Janice. Please lift Janice up in your prayers. She desperately needs it because she is in critical condition. Secondly, there’s a gentleman who called in, I think the other day about his abdominal pain after having a surgery and it felt like gas pain __ and I identify with that. Immediately my prayers went out for him. Family I desperately still need prayers…

[drarrygirl27]

Thanks for the tag, @unsealingkale !

I nominate @darling-lo

1. what does your name mean / mean to you?

Oh wow! I learned something new about my name. It is a Hindi boy name meaning, Center. I'm used to reading it meaning things like knowledge, wise, understanding, and water baby. This is very interesting!

I used to hate my first name years ago, but honestly I really used to hate myself for many reasons for many years. I now love my first name as much as I love my middle name. My last name is pretty cool. I used to want to change it to my biological last name, but now it ties me to both my grandma (She got remarried when my dad and his brother were in their teen years. The man she remarried, she had 3 of my uncles with, 2 are still alive.) and my dad so I'm going to keep it for a little while longer. My dad has another brother who I keep in contact with with my biological last name. They found each other through Facebook years and years ago.

2. breakfast, lunch or dinner?

Breakfast because breakfast is the bomb! That is my favorite kind of food, day or night. I do eat lunch and dinner too, but breakfast food will always have my heart.

3. what are you proud of?

I am proud of how far I actually have come in my life. There were times where I literally wanted to just let things be even when it was bad for me to do so, but I still eventually found the courage to leave when I knew that in my heart of hearts that I needed to for the good of my overall well being. I have had to do that a good bit of times in my life and despite how some of it hurt me really bad to do so emotionally and sometimes mentally even, I knew that I just had to do it because if I would have stayed in some if not most of those situations, I wouldn't be where I am now.

I don't have the best job in the world right now and things have been really hard especially with this crazy ass situation going on, but I am so much happier in so many ways than I was 3 years ago and years before that even. I have grown a lot in many ways. I have the Army to thank for that at least partly. That place pushed me to my limits in so many ways that I had no choice, but to see that I really, really needed to change in some ways if I was ever going to get anywhere in life in the Civilian world. It was what I like to call a necessary hell.

4. your go to song on a bad day?

Not sure if this counts, but when I get scared or anxious about something, I listen to "Lullaby" by Shawn Mullins. It feels like he is singing it to me in a way. It sounds crazy I know, but I have loved this song for many years and overtime it just became a really good comforting song for me.

5. have / want tattoos

I don't have tattoos and I don't think I will ever get a tattoo. I don't like needles. I'm not as bad as my mom with them, but I still don't like the way they feel and I wouldn't know what to get anyway.

6. what are you looking forward to post ‘rona?

To go to places without having to wear a mask like the movies and the mall for instance. They drive me nuts! I wear them for work and when I go into stores. At home, I stay mask free because no one has the 'rona in the house because we all wear masks when we go out some where like work places and the like.

7. fave place you’ve travelled to / where you would like to travel to?

Lost Maples Natural State Area in Texas, hands down! It is a gorgeous place with mountains with hiking trails and beautiful unbelievably crystal clear water.

North Carolina. I need to pay respects to my grandma and if it is allowed I am thinking about spreading my dad's ashes on her grave as well. I was in the Army when she died. I was offered to go back home because of it, but I knew my grandma would have wanted me to keep going and so I did.

8. name a personal object in your room that you love

My grandma's and Daddi-o's memorial service discs even though the Bitch Cunt of the Century a.k.a. Former stepmom was in charge of the pictures on my Daddii-o's discs. You can tell because she is in most of the pics. *Sighs* Lord, I wish I would have had enough balls to tell that 'thing' to fuck all the way off! *Sighs* Hindsight is 2020 and unfortunately, all that shit went down in 2017.

9. what’s your niche interest?

Hmm... I have a good bit of them to be honest. I will just name my main fandoms at the moment. Rhink, Supernatural, and Harry Potter especially when it comes to shipping. LOL!

10. ideal date with yourself?

Hmm... An ideal date with myself, eh? This is going to sound so weird or maybe not, but either a trip to a bookstore or a thrift and or antique store. I love to check out those kinds of places.

11. share a pic from your camera roll that brings you joy

12. is there anything you would say to your younger self?

It may not seem like it now, but eventually things are going to get better for you and you are going to accept and love yourself for everything that you are. You're not going to hate yourself forever and there are going to be people who like and or love you as a person. Your family has always loved and respected you even if it didn't seem like it sometimes. One day, you are going to be able to look into the mirror and through very, very deep self reflection come to understand why your friends and family and the like have always loved, respected, admired, and believed in you. I love you and one day, you are going to love you too.

13. do you bop to music on (I corrected this. It originally said in.) your own? do you sing?

Yep especially while driving in my car to and from work and at work too.

Oh Hell Yeah! I sing way more than I used to especially not just by myself behind closed doors. I don't sing out loud at work though because people could be sleeping and also I'm still a wee bit hesitant to sing in front of people like face to face depending upon where I am at, who I am with, and such. I'm working on it, but I do show my talent to people a lot more than what I used to.

14. is there a type of animal you associate with home? does your house get animal visitors?

Hmm... I was around cats a lot more than dogs throughout most of my lifetime especially my childhood and teenage years.

If we're being sappy though I'd say cats and dogs now. My boyfriend's brother and sister-in-law have a cat that I love a lot. He is what I like to call a sweet asshole. LOL! He can be nice and or loving, but not towards most people. He is kind of like my boyfriend in that way. They're both assholes to people who actually deserve it, but if you're a good and respectable person they'll show you the same kind of decency.

My mom has two German Shepherds that are my fuzz sisters. I love them way more than I thought I would ever love dogs. I was just a cat person for a really, really long time, but now I actually like or love dogs depending upon my relationship with them.

15. is there an artist of any kind who speaks to your soul?

Oh goodness! So many of them do. A lot of musical artists, writers, and the like. To name them all would have me write out a novel or two even. LOL!

[craniumhurricane]

sometimes you have to break a few

Based on a Tumblr post I saw like forever ago and thought I took a screenshot of but can’t find:

I was in Publix and saw this woman buying a shit ton of eggs in front of me, she turned and looked at me and said “I don’t actually like eggs, my daughter’s boyfriend cheated on her and I’m going to egg his car.”

Because Clarke would be that mom.

On AO3!

It's later in the night than Bellamy would usually be doing his grocery shopping but it's the only time he was able to carve out during his busy week. The Ark High Spring Fling dance was tomorrow and somehow he was roped into signing up to help on the party committee. (Scratch that, he knows how, it's because he can't say no to Miss. Vie.)

There's only two registers open and since one is reserved for customers with 10 items or less, Bellamy opts for the other. He's zoning out and going over his mental checklist for the next day when the golden hair of the woman in front of him comes into focus. He watches her as she attempts to juggle about a dozen cartons of eggs from her hands to the conveyor belt. There's something familiar about her hair…

And then he hears her cursing and mumbling under her breath and all at once it clicks.

“Clarke?”

She startles and Bellamy is honestly shocked she doesn’t drop any of her eggs. She turns around, eyes widening as she takes him in, “Bellamy?”

He smiles, can't help it, “Holy shit, it is you. What's it been? Six years?”

She's smiling too, “Give or take but who's counting.”

He hasn't been counting, not really, but Bellamy knows he hasn't seen Clarke Griffin since she and his little sister graduated high school. She went off to some prestigious college and Bellamy stayed in Arkadia. He tried to keep in contact with her but she must have gotten a new number and then his Facebook was hacked and he didn't see a reason to set up a new one. Basically, it just seemed like they naturally drifted apart.

Except here she is. Standing in front of him in line at his supermarket at 9:30 at night purchasing approximately 144 eggs.

He feels like he's been staring too long, all his thoughts and questions jumbling together, so he asks the first thing his brain sends to his mouth...

“Come here often?” and cringes immediately but Clarke snorts out a laugh so maybe it didn't sound as bad as he thinks it did. 

“Wow, that was awful,” she answers for him, but she's smirking. “Is that your way of asking if I've moved back to town?”

“Yeah, that's the appropriate way to word that question.”

She chuckles, “I've been back almost 2 years now. I got a job over at the physical therapy and rehab facility on Second.”

He tries not to let it show but he's surprised she's been back that long and he didn't know about it. Clarke was the same age as his sister but the two of them were always closer. He always thought that if she ever did come back that she would reach out. She must see something on his face though because she continues.

“I didn't know you were still in town, though!” she says in a rush. “I follow Octavia on Instagram and she seems to be as far from Arkadia as she can get. I assumed you'd be with her."

He shrugs, “Arkadia was always more my home than it was her’s.”

She ducks her head and tucks some hair behind her ear, "Yeah that seems right."

The cashier is done ringing up the eggs and calls for Clarke's attention; the poor woman only looks mildly alarmed by the purchase. Now, Bellamy’s seen enough movies to know that the cool thing to do in this situation would be to tell the cashier to ring up everything together and he’d pay for all of it… But that's a lot of fucking eggs.

Clarke pays and then to his surprise she waits for him at the end of the checkout line.

“I would ask if you were baking enough cakes to feed an army,” he says on the way out to the parking lot, “but for the Senior Year bake sale you definitely brought store bought brownies.”

She purses her lips at him for a second before exhaling in a huff, “No, these aren’t for baking. My daughter’s boyfriend cheated on her and I’m going to egg his car.”

The first thing he registers from that sentence is that she has a daughter. It’s only been six years so if she had a kid right after she left for college then at most they’d be in Elementary School. Egging a 5 year old’s car seems a bit excessive. And then the rest of the sentence hits him and he laughs.

“Finn Collins?”

"Old habits?” she smirks. “Clearly I haven't matured with age… and to be fair, that time it was Raven's idea."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "So you got a kid?"

He can see Clarke's face visibly light up at the question, despite the fact that it’s growing dark out.

“Madi, yeah," she says, "I fostered her for about a year and it was rough at first but we got through it and I think we both realized just how much we needed each other. I started the adoption process after that and then moved back here once it was finalized.” She pauses for a breath, thinks about it, and then adds, “She goes to Ark High actually."

He stops walking which makes her stop too. 

“Wait, Madi Griffin?” he asks and when all she does is tilt her head in confusion he clarifies, “I teach freshman at Ark High.”

She gapes at him. “You’re Mr. Blake!? Madi talks about you all the time.”

“She’s never had a class with me," he says, dubious.

“Yeah well, you’ve always been able to make an impression.”

And suddenly it feels like old times. Clarke saying something nice about him and him not quite knowing how to accept it. She used to do it often, and adamantly, and he never felt like he deserved the praise but it never stopped her from giving it. Just like before, he feels warmth spread through his chest.

“So,” she shrugs, “you want to come with me? For old time’s sake?”

He doesn’t normally believe in signs but it feels like the universe is definitely trying to tell him something. He wants to keep hanging out, wants to catch up on the last 6 years and see if any of those lingering feelings are still there. He considers her offer for probably a bit longer than he should before reasoning finally sets in.

“Tempting but unfortunately it’s a school night,” he says, mostly as a joke but it's true. “Besides, I don’t think it would look good if a teacher gets caught egging one of his student’s cars.”

“You don’t even know if he’s one of your students.”

“And if I’m not an accomplice to vandalism then I’ll never have to know.”

“Wow, look at Bellamy Blake all grown up.”

“Well, one of us had to,” he teases and then before he can chicken out, “Let me give you my number though. In case you need bail money.” 

“Wow. Smooth,” she smirks but she starts juggling her bags so she can take his phone.

“The smoothest,” he says when she hands it back. He sends her a quick text so she has his number and after that there's nothing left to do but leave.

“I'd give you a hug but,” she lifts her hands, laden with bags. And then he suddenly feels the weight of his own bags digging into his wrists.

“Next time,” he promises with a smile. “It was good to see you, Clarke.”

“You too. Bye, Bellamy.”

He almost makes it all the way to his car before he has to turn around and take one more look at her. It might be wishful thinking, but he thinks she's just turned back around from doing the same.

*

He contemplated texting Clarke all night but figured that would be creepy and make him seem eager, which he wasn’t. She texted him a thumbs up emoji while he was putting away his groceries, which he assumed meant she made it home alright. He hadn’t known how to respond to it last night any more then he knew how to respond to it the next morning.

So he just ignores it, or at least tries to. He has work and then the dance, so in theory plenty to keep him occupied.

Apparently, he had no reason to worry about social norms and the proper etiquette for responding to an emoji because Clarke shows up to the Spring Fling dance that night. She doesn't notice him so he avoids her and asks Maya about it instead, like an adult. Apparently she signed up to chaperone. He really should have paid more attention to this thing.

He’s about to go over and talk to her but Maya stops him and requests his help rehanging some decorations that fell down. After that she sends him off to his position at the refreshments table for the night and he completely loses sight of Clarke. He wants to go look for her but that would require abandoning his post and he doesn't trust these kids not to spike the punch bowl.

He’s not sure how much time has passed since time seems to speed up and yet stand still at these things. He also gets absorbed in his job and even chats with a few of his students as they stop by. He’s just confiscated a flask from Ethan Hardy when there’s a commotion over to his left.

“I know it was you!”

When Bellamy turns, he finally finds Clarke again. Unfortunately, it looks like she’s pissed off Nia Winters.

Nia Winters, or Queen Nia as many teachers call her behind her back due to the fact that she constantly gives this “I’m better than you and I have the attitude and money to prove it” vibe, is a long time parent of Ark High and tries to get her hands in every committee. Her eldest already graduated years ago, but now she has two more that go to the school. Bellamy will honestly be happy when they’re done with her and her overbearing “my child can do no wrong” parenting.

“I know it was you that threw eggs at my son's car!” she’s yelling at Clarke now and it doesn’t take long for Bellamy to connect the dots.

It must have been Nia’s son that cheated on Madi. Now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers hearing about them dating.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Clarke replies, expression completely cool and unreadable.

“The hell you don't!” Nia gets right up in Clarke’s face. They’re starting to draw a little bit of attention so Bellamy slowly makes his way over, ushering kids to get back to the party as he goes.

“I wasn't near your son's car last night,” Clarke says, complete with a straight face that even Bellamy would believe if he didn’t know otherwise. And then she looks Nia right in the eyes and adds, “Though whoever did do it was probably justified.”

Nia rears back like she’s been slapped before settling into a position that Bellamy can only describe as a predator ready to pounce. “How dare-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says as he closes the distance with two long strides. There’s still a few students looking but at least they’re trying to be discreet about it. “Can I help with anything?”

Nia whirls around to look at him and thrusts a finger out a Clarke, manicured nail just inches from her chest. “I want this woman to admit what she's done and be removed from the premises so I can press charges.”

Clarke looks like she's about to say something but Bellamy cuts her off. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid she's telling the truth.”

Both women turn to look at him, each with their own look of bewilderment and shock.

Nia looks from Bellamy to Clarke and back. “And how would you know that?” she asks defensively.

Clarke’s looking at him with that quizzical head tilt again. He meets her eyes for a second, hoping they’re still able to communicate without speaking and then turns his attention back to the other woman. “Because she was on a date with me last night.”

Nia’s jaw drops and out of the corner of his eye he can tell Clarke is biting the inside of her cheek to try and suppress a grin.

“W-Well,” the woman stutters.

“Maybe check with one of his other girlfriends,” Clarke says as she steps forward and puts her hand on Bellamy's arm. “From what I understand, it's a pretty extensive list. You might want to get started.”

And with that Clarke leads him back over to the drinks table, leaving Nia absolutely fuming. He’s afraid she’s going to try and follow them but she just stands there for a few minutes before marching towards the doors of the gym.

When they reach the table Clarke doesn’t remove her hand from his arm. “Thanks for the save,” she says, looking at the dancefloor, purposefully not meeting his eyes.

“Anytime,” he half shrugs. “But if you had told me that Madi was dating Queen Nia’s son last night then I probably would have helped you out.”

She finally turns and smiles up at him, “You got to help me out tonight though.”

There’s a pause again as they lull into a slightly awkward silence. Or maybe he just thinks it’s awkward. He’s afraid if he doesn’t fill it then she’s going to leave and then he’s right back where he started with a stupid thumbs up emoji.

“You know,” he starts to say and she looks back up at him. “Maybe we should grab dinner sometime. To make this whole dating thing more believable.”

“Wow, smooth,” she teases, but the effect is lost by how bright her smile is.

“We already established last night that I was smooth.”

She laughs and moves her arm to lace it properly through his. “Dinner sounds great.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #260

“better think twice; your train of thought will be altered.”

Have you ever taken a shower with anyone before? I believe Nicole and I did as kids sometimes? Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Always. Wear your goddamn seatbelt, folks. Do you prefer to spend your time indoors or outdoors? Generally indoors, but it does depend on what I can do outside as well as the weather. How many people have you kissed? Three or four. I really can't remember if *I* ever kissed Girt. Do you just feel awkward when you dance? YIKES YUP, even when I was a dancer. Has the person you have feelings for ever told you that you’re attractive? Yes. Can you get over people easily? MOTHER OF FUCK, NO. Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is okay? No. Do you like to have long hair or short hair? SHORT. Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? Ugggghhhh, yes. Especially cuddling while falling sleep in the rain is everything. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Many times. Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? Well, to a degree. I have artwork in here that I'm just self-conscious of others seeing, but I wouldn't DIE if my mom found them. They're not even really "hidden," just covered. What flavor do you add to your drink at Sonic? Strawberry. Do you like hot-dogs? I wish I didn't. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry? A fuckin hot leather, spiked choker with chains draped across it. It's just a bit tight on me now. Worst injury you’ve ever had? I skinned the shit out of my knees on the road as a kid, wound up with cuts near the bones. It was not, NOOOOOT pretty and took literally years for the scars to totally vanish. What song do you want played at your funeral? Probably "Life is Beautiful" by Sixx AM. How many keys are on your key chain? What do they go to? Just the one to the house. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? Not in the traditional sense. Before surgery, they obviously had to be sure via a urine sample, but otherwise, no. Would you rather live in a mansion or a small cozy home? Whew, the latter, easily. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Nah. Do you get your eyebrows waxed, or do you pluck them? Neither, really. I just don't care; mine aren't awful, and it's too time-consuming and "required" too frequently for me to bother. They're just eyebrows. Do you and your last ex hate each other? Not at all. Do you believe your most recent ex thinks about you? Well yeah, we're best friends. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? I was literally a madly in love teenager, you can guess. How do you handle people who are overly enthusiastic all the time? "I don’t 'handle' them, they’re actually pretty cool to be around. I appreciate having that kind of energy around me because I don’t generate a whole lot of it myself and I want it to rub off." <<<< Exactly this. Do people say you look like a certain celebrity? Nah. Who do you think you look like? No one I know of. Ever loved someone who didn’t love you back? hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGALS;KDJFA;LKJEW Ever done karaoke? Did you like it? Nooooo sir. Ever seen a pregnant woman smoking/drinking? Yep. It was an occasion where I had to practice serious self-discipline to keep my mouth shut. :x What was the last piece of candy you ate? Miss Tobey brought me a Reese's yesterday morning so that. Nice breakfast lmao. Do you curse a lot? A real fucking lot. It's not intentional, it's just so ingrained in me as normal diction after being at Jason's so much when his mother is the definition of an Italian New Yorker and thus her son has a mouth too lmao. Personally, I don't believe in "profanity" in the traditional sense so it doesn't bother me in the way of "oh I'm saying too many bad words," I just know my dictionary is wider than "fuck" and "shit" oof. If you could be a Disney character for a day, who would you be? Probably like Kiara. Be a hot princess lion with a hot lion boyfriend and chill lion parents WOW am I a furry yet. Are you wearing anything of any sentimental value? Describe? Yeah, my friendship ring with Sara, a bracelet from her as well, and an ovarian cancer bracelet for my mom. Then tattoos, if you consider myself as "wearing" them. To you, what is especially distracting? The sound of TV when you're trying to sleep. What are some things that are important in your life right now? My mom's health, my mental health, job searching to at least get ideas for when transportation is easier, keeping the house clean, keeping up with Sara's health. When was the last time you did some major cleaning? A couple weeks back when I detail cleaned out both my shelves. Who challenges you the most? In what way?  My psychiatrist, but not in a bad way. He pushes me to keep improving with things. What was the last opportunity that you passed up, and why? I should know this, but I don't. Have you ever contemplated cheating on anyone? Oh no, I couldn't live with the guilt. Who do you know that gives very sound advice? Sara is great at that. What do you think makes a person weak? The will to drag someone down just because you're feeling that way. What makes a person strong? The determination to not give up. Who do you go to when you need comfort? Mom more than anyone. Where is your favorite place to get fries? BOJANGLE'S. You cannot live to your fullest potential until you've received the seasoned blessing of Bojangle's fries. What is the most recent article of clothing you’ve purchased? I think underwear. Have you ever made your own pie from scratch? No. Are there any waterfalls nearby? Definitely no big ones. Hell, maybe even no natural ones. There are lots of dams, but I don't think they count. What are your earliest memories of going to see a doctor? My first time getting my blood drawn and consciously understanding what was about to happen. Freaked the FUCK out, bolted from the room, and clinged like a monkey to a column while sobbing. It literally took multiple adults to get me off of it, and I was very little. And then when I actually got poked, apparently I just said, "... That's it?" Oh, little me, you'd take needles for hours later on in life in the name of art lol. What is your favorite condiment? Maybe ketchup. Do you know anyone who has been to rehab? Well, all the mental hospitals I've been to included addicts seeking recovery, and I befriended a few. For people more in my personal life, I think so. Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? I am ridiculously picky. Have you ever slept in a car overnight? I'm quite sure no, not a full night. Has someone close to you died of murder? No, thankfully. Does your school offer driver’s ed? My high school did, which is where I took it. Have you ever done volunteering work abroad? No. Do you have a shower stall or a bath tub? A tub. Why do you do these surveys? I'm bored most of the time with absolutely nothing better to do. Sometimes it helps me contemplate some things about myself. Do you like shopping? Eh, depends on what I'm shopping for. What’s a show you wish that was still on air? MM IS COMIN BACK, FUCKERS. Do you like hip hop? Nooo. Do you like pretzels? I do, especially soft ones. You want your next pet to be what? It's probably going to be a tarantula. I'm not being sarcastic lmao. It just depends on if I can convince my mom. Do you like coconut scents? Sure. Would you spend 20 dollars on a candle? Hell no. What is a dessert that you DON’T like? Pie. And one that you love? mmmmmmmmMMMMMMMM ice cream. Would you rather be a vampire or a mermaid? Vampire, ig. Being a mermaid genuinely sounds boring. Where the fuck's the WiFi. Are you happy with your physical features? Bitch no. When you doodle, what are you usually doodling? Meerkats. Do you eat salads? Not enough, but I like them w/ regular lettuce and I'm open to different dressings. Favorite thing to do on your phone? Play Pokemon if I'm actually in a spot to get fckn balls. What magazines do you like? I don't read any. What is your favorite thing about Christmas? The feeling of really being a family. Do you prefer white or black electronics? Black. Firm pillow or soft pillow? S O F T Who was the last person you rode in a car with? Mom. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? Thank fuck no. Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other/crush to talk to? I’m single and don't have like... an "active" crush ig? What was the last alcoholic beverage you drank? I had a bombin' sangria for my birthday @ Olive Garden. Has one of your boyfriend’s best friends ever tried to get with you? Again, single, but for previous ones, no anyway. Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? No. Have any of your friends ever overdosed? I think so, but none died, thankfully. The last thing you downloaded onto your computer? Ummmm probably something for school. How many friends on Facebook do you have? 118. What age is the oldest you would date at the moment? It'd take me seriously liking someone to go slightly beyond 30. Do you want to be single? I don't know. I don't really know if I'm "fit" to be in a relationship right now, like I know I gotta figure shit out, but I think it's natural to want that companionship some days. Are you good at hiding your feelings? Well, I guess it depends on the emotion, but honestly, I don't think so, in most cases. Who did you last share a bed with? Sara. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? Not in an ambulance, no. What are you listening to right now? An '80s-ish/synthwave cover of "Disturbia" by Rihanna. I've been on a total binge of this kinda stuff lately. Ever been on a golf cart? Ye. Do you have trust issues? Yep. Do you own something from Hot Topic? I think most of my shirts are from there. Have you ever slapped someone in the face? No. Do you have a little sister? Damn, not so little anymore. Turned 22 a few days ago. Have you ever been to New York? The state, yes. City, no. Do you actually read privacy policies when signing up for new things? Nope. Did you have a lot of birthday parties when you were younger? If so, did you invite everyone in the class? I mean, define "a lot?" I did once every year... and no. I was selective. Have you ever participated in one of those “guess how many jelly beans, mints, etc. are in this jar!” contest? If so, have you ever won? PTSD is fuckin weird. I have, and I get anxious and uncomfortable just seeing them. The very last time I hung out w/ Jason was at his brother's wife's baby shower, and something like that was there. Shitty fuckin day. Can you juggle? No. Do you live on an avenue, road, drive or something else? Road. What are your school colors? N/A Have you ever taken a picture with Santa when you were little? Yeah, I think my sisters and I did that every year? What is the population of the city you live in? Google says around 5.5k. Do you like Nerds candy? Yeah man. What’s your favourite flavour of soda, pop or whatever else you call it? Blue raspberry. What level of brightness do you usually keep your phone at? It's on about 70% during the day, and I lower it to about 20% when I'm about to go to bed. Have you ever attended a religious or private school? My previous school was a private & religious college. Do you have any pets and are they cuddly? My cat is STUPID cuddly. Absolute attention hog. My snake seems to enjoy attention, though I wouldn't define snakes as "cuddly;" their brains don't know what affection really is, which I think is mandatory in that definition. She does love to lie against me on the bed, though, when I take her out to let her wander. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? All three of my jobs have sucked, but considering I lasted in a deli not even two hours, probs that. How many cars does your household own? One. Are there any cracks or scuffs on your phone? No. This shit is literally a Tracphone yet is incredible man, I've dropped it a good few times and it's a great phone. What’s your favourite meat? Out of most forms, probably pork, which I really wish wasn't true. I adore pigs. Or maybe chicken. Which I still feel bad about. Do you need glasses to read or drive or need them all the time? I always need them. Is the internet fast where you live? It's fine. What is your favourite meal of the day and why? Breakfast has the best options and makes me look forward to the morning lmao. Do you like long surveys or short surveys better? Ha ha, obviously long, seeing as I compile shorts ones into these larger ones. I do it because I feel individually posting with EVERY one I pick out would get annoying. Have you ever been to a cocktail bar? No. What’s the best amusement park you’ve ever visited? Disney World. Do you keep the cabinets in your kitchen and bathroom organized? More so in the kitchen. Have you ever had a romantic fling? No. Are you a very forgetful person? To a frightening point. Are your parents married or divorced? They're divorced. Do you believe in Heaven? Not the Christian one, but I do lean towards there being some peaceful existence after death. Do you eat the stems of broccoli? That's obviously the best part. Do you read blogs? No. Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex? I pretty much have before? Worn guy's pants and unisex or men's shirts before, I'm sure. Ever been involved with the police? No. What's your favorite shampoo/conditioner and soap? Idk, I'm just very used to Suave. Their body wash smells amazing. Do you feel that you've had a truly successful life? HELL NO. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? Twirl it. Favorite restaurant? Olive Garden is GOOD SHIT. Have you watched Tiger King yet? Christ, no, and I sure am tired of seeing it everywhere online. Do you try to do something significant and meaningful every day? It's quite clear I don't, even though I really, really want to. What is your favorite pizza topping? Pepperoni. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? Chance. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Does anyone know who your first crush was? yeah. Who was your first celebrity crush? Whew, Jesse McCartney, lads. Have you ever had to use an epi pen? No, thankfully. What color was your first phone? Navy, I think. Do you know anyone with Down’s syndrome? Not anyone personally. How much do you weigh (only answer if comfortable)? I'm not comfortable. Have you ever been overweight? I have been since 2016. What color is your Christmas tree? Green. What color Christmas tree do you want to have in your house someday? UGGGGHHHHHHH give me a black one with fake snow on it. Omg. What color house did you grow up in? Uhhhh... I think it was white? I should know this. Have you ever been baptized? If so, how and where? Yes, when I was a baby at the Catholic church I grew up going to. What type of wedding do you want? Give it a gothic vibe ok. Are you taller or shorter or the same height as your mom? We're the same height. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. Are you excited for the upcoming summer season? Ugh, no. Not at all. At. All. Do you like crackers with your soup? No. Which ex of yours means the most to you? Depending on which way you mean, Jason or Sara. What is something that never fails to make you feel accomplished? Do a decent amount of cleaning. How do you feel about nudity, in person? Uh???? What exactly do you mean by "in person"???? I guess it depends on who, the situation, and location??? Have you taken prescription medications that didn't belong to you? Pain medicine, yes. Do wooded areas freak you out in the evening or night? I mean, to a reasonable degree, I guess. Obviously being in the wild in the dark is dangerous. Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle? No. Do you iron any of your clothes? No. Can you sleep in an unmade bed? Yeah. Did the house you grew up in have a big yard? It was p good. What has been the most difficult class you’ve ever taken? Probably Latin. What was the last website you were on, before this one? I was on Facebook. Is your hometown famous for anything? No. What are some things a house would need to have for you to purchase it? I'm personally very serious about a dishwasher and laundry room. Other than that I'm... kinda blanking? Like I'm not that picky as for what the house HASSSSSS to have, besides those. Well, two bathrooms would be great. What was the last thing you heated up in your microwave? A pancake+sausage on a stick thing for breakfast. When was the last time your internet stopped working? It was having a temper yesterday. Did you ever watch Phil of the Future? Not very much, and never really by choice. Nicole would watch it sometimes though. Were you born somewhere other than a hospital? No. What was the last flavor of ice cream you had? Vanilla. Do you have an online game that you play often? None at the very moment because my personal gaming laptop has been kaput for well over a month now. Maybe close to even two. Is there a trash can near you? No. Have you ever shared sleeping accommodations with someone of the opposite sex without anything steamy happening? No. Is there a fan going in the room you’re in? Yeah, beside me.

[lostborderline]

7/7/20

It’s nearing the end of the day, given I haven’t actually done my school assignment that I need to do for today yet. I ended up falling asleep on the bed with my contacts in just waiting for the farmer’s market to open up at 3 PM. A call from my bank woke me up ultimately. After work I intended to go to Starbucks but my boyfriend wanted to go to Wendy’s first. I guess I gave in and ordered a combo meal, a chicken sandwich, fries and a peach lemonade. Probably wasn’t the best choice because I didn’t enjoy eating it all that much at all, and made me feel slightly disgusting after. Around 2:40 PM I got up, got dressed, and wiped off all the excess hair dye off my face that seemed to seep out of my hair probably due to sweat, and along with that I took off all my makeup (it was like 2 days old anyway and looked horrible with all the hair dye stains on my face). After removing everything from my face, I suddenly felt very clean and hydrated for some reason. I spritzed on some facial toner which also felt really nice and smelled it too. Down at the farmer’s market they had cannoli stands, ice cream stands, food truck, meat stand, cupcakes, fresh bread, and the biggest of all: the produce. I spent $10 on cannolis, it was buy 2 get 1 free. I picked vanilla, chocolate and blueberry. Next, I bough kalamata olive garlic bread, $6. Finally, I bought probably a pound of fresh strawberries, one pint of blueberries, one pint of cherries, and one pint of raspberries, $26. If you can’t tell, I like fruit and berries. Actually, I had to leave and come back because they were the only stand that were not taking card payments. 97% of my kitchen right now is fresh food and healthy stuff so knowing this I will hopefully make the right decisions.  Today one of my Facebook friends posted a status about how it’s time to finally love herself for the first time in six years. Naturally, I went through the comments. All this time I thought she was happy with her boyfriend and they’ve been together for so long. I believe they even had an apartment together. It was confirmed, they had broken up. I mean, she did often post subtle posts portraying bad relationships and stuff like that. I couldn’t help but comment on how strong she is for doing so, and that I’d like to do that too, however, now is not the right time. I can tell my time is getting closer and closer, though. I just kinda gave up inside my head, and my heart feels really weak at the moment. Like, I feel like I couldn’t give all the love I have to offer anymore but only like 13% of it. Now that I really think about it, I don’t even think we have a lot in common. He loves rap music (which I hate), and shows I could never be interested in. He prefers modern movies over the classics. He enjoys fishing and spends most of his time doing so (which I also hate). I suppose the only thing we have in common is that we both play video games, and he does listen to some classic rock, but he thinks it’s not creative or talent work. Arrogance. Maybe the only reason I fell in love with him was because he had a job, he lived (kinda) on his own, and actually had a driver’s license, so I could see my life progressing more with him than my boyfriend at the time, who had none of those. If I had stayed with my ex, I wouldn’t have gotten my driver’s license, a place to live on my own because his mom wouldn’t allow him to get a job so he could save up, and I would still get my stuff stolen by his sister. I found out months later when I went to go cash in all the change I had been saving for literally over a year now, she stole over $1,000. Fucking insane. I intended to want to do something about it, and I confronted him because he was the only person I could get in contact with, and he said that his mom would “sue me for living there illegally” because I wasn’t on the lease. Yet, she was the one who allowed me to live there for literally 2 years, rent free. I feel as if either way I step there’s a hidden mine ready to explode. No direction is the right direction for me.  Anyway, I still need to get everything done and it’s getting kind of late. My desk is a mess right now, I have the Wendy’s fries from earlier, 3 Pepsi bottles (I’m drinking one now), and my markers are scattered everywhere. 

[living-after-death-blog1]

The Day My Daughter Died.. (An introduction to the end and the beginning)

I received a phone call from my daughter's best friend, Alli, at about 2:30pm on that day. She told me that she had just left work and was on her way to my daughter's house, after receiving a frantic phone call from my daughter's roommate, Kenneth, who said that he had come home and found her unconscious, with a needle in her hand. He had called an ambulance, he had attempted CPR, and was now waiting outside of the house while the emergency personnel did their thing inside.

I think it was already pretty well established that my daughter was gone, and I think that this was probably communicated to me, but my brain literally wouldn't grasp it. I wasn't devastated; I was terrified. I spent the entire conversation (which was probably at least 20 minutes long) thinking that we didn't know anything yet, feeling like I was frozen, like everything around me was happening in slow motion, and that I was just holding my breath until the moment when Alli could finally get to the house and someone could tell us what was going on. I thought we were waiting to hear that she'd been trànsported or something. It honestly hadn't occurred to me until just now that simply knowing that Kenneth had attempted CPR should have been enough information to answer to the only question that was looping through my mind, over and over, until Alli arrived. "Is she breathing?"

I was 4 hours away, in another city.

Once Alli arrived, there were people everywhere; policemen, emergency responders, tons of neighborhood spectators, and Kenneth, the roommate. I was still on the phone, waiting, while he and Alli had a brief conversation, which I couldn't really hear and I finally interrupted to ask what I thought we'd been waiting to find out this whole time.. "But.. is she still breathing?"

At that point, I heard Alli take a deep breath and, very slowly, and with such pain, she said the words that made it real.

"No, Stephanie. She's gone."

I remember taking a deep breath and saying, "Okay."

It almost felt like, "Well.. Here we are. This is actually happening. You know, that thing that happens to other people, but not your child, not you? It's happening. Right now."

Another deep breath, and once again, " Okay.. "

I remember thinking that I needed to hold it together somehow, because I was going to have to handle and figure out a lot of things, and I really, really needed to be able to think. I just had to think. Figure this all out somehow, as if it were a problem that could be solved.

I did what I've always done when I need to call upon an extreme coping skill. I stopped feeling, and I started thinking. Intellectualizing, my therapist, Becca, the one from my daughter's first treatment center, used to call it.

I called upon that skill in that moment. Think. Think about what other people are going through, feeling, experiencing. Think about how everyone else feels, so you don't have to look at what this really is. Don't even get close to it.

That is the moment that I apologized to Alli for having to be the one to make such a horrible phone call, telling someone's mother that they are dead, and thanked her for being that person, at the same time. I thanked her for being a good friend. I told her I loved her. Said I'd be available for the police or whoever needs to speak to next of kin, and told her to give them my number.

I called my boyfriend first, in a panic; I had to get home, I had to get to Houston, and I had to get there NOW. I couldn't drive, and all I could think was how I needed to get there, I had to get there, and I needed to get there NOW. No answer.

I called my ex-husband (not the father of my daughter, but of two sons, ages 15 and 18, at the time) and, not realizing that the boys were in the car with him or that he had answered on speaker, I started screaming that my daughter was dead, she was dead, and I didn't know what to do. Of course, after finding out that the boys had overhead, I called both of them to apologize that they had had to hear me like that, to hear the news that way.

I don't remember very much of the next few weeks. The things I do remember are choppy, like random scenes from a movie, but I remember those things vividly.

I realized that I had to tell people. Who? Who is the first person you call to announce your daughter's death?

I called my mom first, I think, and I listened to her sob and repeat, "Noooo..." over and over.

I called my daughter's other grandmother, on her father's side, and I listened as she cried and kept saying, "Oh my god.."

I called my daughter's ex-boyfriend, Javi, the father of my granddaughter, who was 8 at the time, and he couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it, either; jumped in his car to go over there. I guess he needed to see it with his own eyes.

I spoke to another of my daughter's best friends, Jessica (she happened to text me, so I thought she already knew, and when I realized that she didn't, I told her to call me. She asked me, "How bad is it?" I said, "Bad."), and then she, too, immediately drove over to the house to meet up with Alli, Kenneth, and Javi.

I couldn't listen to any more breaking hearts at the moment, so as fucked up as it seems now, I just started texting people.

I texted my friend, Sarah, who, along with her entire family, have been like family to us. I don't even know how I said it. I think I said, "I'm so sorry to tell you like this, but they found her this morning, unconscious, with a needle, and she didn't make it. " Sarah immediately called me, and started screaming, " What? What? " as if she couldn't hear me. Her mind, too, couldn't seem to allow this to be real.

I spoke to my friends, Theresa and Joie, sisters, and they immediately offered all kinds of practical help that hadn't even occurred to me, such as setting up a GoFundMe account to pay for funeral expenses. I had been laid off from my job of over ten years several months prior, and so all of the life insurance policies and everything I'd been so used to just having were no longer available, and I had nothing.

Joie also posted on Facebook on my behalf. It was the only way I could think of to let everyone know, especially my daughter's friends, and it was because of all of these people, and so many more, that I have managed to get through this last year.

I don't know what I did to deserve such wonderful people in my life, but I am surrounded by them. The GoFundMe account reached over $5000 within a couple of days.

My daughter's best friend from middle school is a hair and makeup artist, and she flew in from Colorado to make sure that she was the one who did the makeup for the viewing. That was always their thing, and even though my daughter's addiction had driven them apart over the years, Vikki had to do this one last thing for her friend, and I was happy to have her do it.

Sarah's ex-boyfriend, who knew my daughter as a child, took care of all of the flowers and arrangements.

Sarah's mom has a friend who was able to make a dress for my daughter to wear during the viewing; an Alice in Wonderland dress, because that was always her thing.

Sarah and her mom had already found the cheapest most decent funeral home that they knew of (her mom had used the place for her own mother's service), so I literally spent the next few days just having to answer yes and no questions.

It turned out that since my daughter never divorced the father of her second child (my grandson, Isaac, who was almost 7 at the time), even though they'd been separated and out of contact for a few years (she was engaged to someone else for at least a year), he was her next of kin, not me, and this brought forth a whole host of issues. He doesn't raise their son, his mother does, because he is either 1) insane, 2) brain damaged from drug use, 3) currently using drugs, or 4) a combination of all of the above. These things made the entire process very difficult for me.

They tried to dictate who could be invited to the funeral, which I wasn't on board with. They threatened me by saying that they would have her body transferred to the funeral home of their choosing and they would let me know when and where to show up. They said I could not have any locks of her hair. They said they would not split up her ashes. They even dictated to me that she be cremated, because they somehow knew (having only known her for a few years, and not knowing her at all, really, for the few years prior to her death) that she wanted to be cremated and that she wanted her ashes spread over the ocean.

I won't ever be able to understand why someone would treat the mother of a dead child the way that they treated me, but I've just added them to the list of people I'll have to figure out how to forgive somehow, eventually.

Everyone showed up for us, and I was so grateful for the presence of every single one of them. People I hadn't seen or spoken to in years, such as my ex-husband's ex-boss's ex-wife, lol.

I placed a son for adoption when I was 19, and though I had met him in person once, he and my other kids had not met. He and my daughter had been talking a lot on social media, and he had planned to come visit and meet everyone in May, after he graduated college, but ended up coming in April for her funeral, instead. He never even got to hear her voice.

There is so much I want to use this blog for. I want to document my own journey through this grief. I want to talk about addiction and help destigmatize the way people view addicts. I want to offer resources and maybe even hope. And I want to remember my daughter.

Her name was Jade. She was 26 years old when she died. She was one of the funniest, coolest, most creative, beautiful people you could have ever known. Yes, the addiction was a part of her journey, her struggle, but she was more than that. And I intend to honor ALL of who she was, by speaking the truth.

The truth is that she died from the toxic effects of an accidental overdose of heroin and methamphetamine. But that's just one part of her story, and mine, and I need to tell them both, even if no one ever reads a single word I type. I need to tell these stories.

Since I started with her death, here is a photo recap of what there is to know so far:

#grief #overdose #addiction #loss #bereavement #grieving

[youcantunringthebell]

Mother’s Day for Anthropologists

I’ve considered how to write this for two decades' worth of Mother’s Days and never did it, but it feels like this is the one, because I just stood up with the sudden compulsion to find my two favorite pictures of my mother and felt terrified that I’d somehow lost them.

They were in a cardboard box in my bedroom closet that I’ve been carrying from place to place since I moved out of her house. I think of it as my "before" box -- every memento collected before I was 23.

That year, I was excommunicated from the Jehovah's Witnesses. My mother and stepfather reported their suspicions about my behavior to the congregation's elders and arranged a meeting to decide whether or not I was repentant. I made it easy for them. My sin was announced at a worship service that I did not attend, and I was dead to everyone there.

After that, my communications with my mother were these:

She called to ask that I return the key to her house, so my boyfriend mailed it back with a letter chastising her and my stepfather.

She called to tell me that I should save the stamp rather than invite any of my family to my wedding.

When my grandmother lay dying, we stood in the hospital hallway and discussed what dates and times I could come sit at the hospital. When Grammy died, we discussed the funeral arrangements and spoke briefly at the funeral.

Mom called me in Tampa to say my sister Jennifer gave birth to a baby girl, and it was a shame that I wouldn’t get to see my niece unless I returned to the family religion.

My brother asked Mom to apologize to me as a condition of getting to see his infant son – her only grandson. She wrote a two-page letter apologizing for being an incapable mother and explaining that it was because she was still in high school when she had me. There was no mention of cutting me off.

She texted me in January 2014 to say my grandfather had died, and I didn't have to come to the funeral. That was her last contact with me.

In my first favorite picture of Mom, she’s 18 and taking a nap with me. She’s living in her in-laws’ house while their son finishes college. She’s up and ruined the life of their only child, a boy on the basketball team at Widener University, and they let her know what she’s done by creating a thick air of disapproval in their house. She’s wearing a Widener t-shirt and sleeping peacefully with her baby when that boy lovingly snaps a picture, and it’s the biggest fuck-you scene for her in-laws that I can imagine.

My father was probably schizophrenic, but in the insular religion they joined when I was 3, he wasn’t diagnosed or offered professional therapy, just prayed for. He took off without explanation and called her from Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas one night, apologized, and overdosed while lying in the bathtub. Mom told the medical examiner to cremate him and do whatever with the ashes.

My father left her alone with no higher education, no job, and daughters ages 7, 4 and 6 weeks.

I think that is when she got steely.

She remarried three years later -- a sweet, awkward guy who obviously didn’t know the force of nature he’d inherited or else just loved being led around by the balls -- and we all moved from Philadelphia to his hometown in Missouri. There was lots of talk about Bible-based submission to one’s husband, but everyone knew who was running the show.

Here are my three happiest memories of my mother after that:

When my middle school physical education teacher attempted to fail me in the gymnastics portion of the course, my mother marched into her office and said she’d accept my F the moment my teacher could produce a 6-foot-tall girl of 11 who could turn a perfect cartwheel. My grade was elevated to a C. Also that year, I became determined to turn a perfect cartwheel so I could prove I’d been worth defending. My sister Jennifer taught me how.

I failed my first driver's test because I couldn’t parallel park. Even worse, the guy who administered the test delivered a harrowing story to my mother about how I’d just kept backing over the curb after hitting it. I told Mom I couldn't face going back to school, where of course I’d bragged to everyone that I’d return with my license, but she dropped me off in time to catch the last few minutes of second period anyway. By lunch, there was one of those giant mums with the googly-eyed faces glued on waiting for me in the office. In pipe-cleaner arms, it held a note that said, “Yes, Virginia, they do administer the test again on Tuesday of next week. Love, Mom.” That’s when I cried the hardest, because I didn’t think anyone should love me after I’d been so stupid.

Because Mom believed that Armageddon was coming literally any day and my time would be better spent saving lives, she forbade me to go to college, where I would just fornicate and start believing in evolution. At age 17, raised as I was, I had no idea how to go up against her on that point. Here’s the happy part: She directed me to get a part-time job at the local newspaper to support my ministry. I took a history paper on the Bolshevik Revolution to the tri-weekly Democrat Advertiser as my only clip and landed my first reporting job. It opened up a life of daily experiences and newsroom coaching that supplemented my formal education.

So here we are at Mother’s Day, me shouting my story into the social media wilderness. Feels right after all this time of feeling nothing.

Here is my truth: When I see all these Facebook profile pictures switch over to old photographs of my friends' moms, it’s like being an anthropologist. I can tell that some people’s mothers weren’t hard and unyielding and did not dole out tiny doses of approval for their daughters to grasp at. I’m also at the age where many of my friends have lost their mothers, and they are experiencing a pain this time of year that I simply cannot comprehend. (I am truly sorry for when that confusion has come off as indifference.)

That brings us to my other favorite picture of Mom.

She is 31 and the mother of five. I am 13 and the only person in the family who cares about taking pictures, paying to develop them with my babysitting money sometimes. We’re at a summer convention of Jehovah’s Witnesses. She's supposed to be sweetly kissing her infant son for the picture, but instead she’s grasping him tightly with one arm and looking at the camera with such fierceness, it’s clear she’d kill anyone who tried to hurt that baby.

Except her. Because in the end, she’s willingly given up both of us in favor of her religious beliefs about the way we live our lives.

This Mother’s Day, like all the others, she’s waiting for Armageddon. Only now, she thinks her God will kill my brother and me, and she’s made her peace with that. And now I’ve made peace with what she thinks of me.

Written in 2017.

[frembrulee]

involuntary angel

I’m down by the waterfront, the sun splitting all over the water, going completely crazy, and the water’s more blue than I ever remember it being. It’s been this dull muddy grey-blue for ages and suddenly it’s beautiful and stark, the wind coming up off of it and I’ve forgotten a jacket, I’m just wearing a sweater a friend I don’t talk to anymore gave me, ill-fitting jeans, Adidas all-stars, I really only came down here to buy things to make myself feel better, overpriced K-beauty supplies from Moon Moon Cosmetics and… something else I forget, dry-cleaning or something, but the water’s so beautiful and I’m alone and I can’t help it, I start crying.

Not for the sake of it, like the time last winter I was bored and wandering the city and it was windy, cold, frosty out, it was really bad, I actually think it was a full-on snowstorm but I was underdressed again, and I remember stumbling across the benches facing the water. These benches are always taken, usually by one person, but if you try to share a bench with a stranger they think you’re crazy, but no one was out because it was so miserable. The sea felt melancholy that day, but I didn’t really feel anything. I was bored and I thought it’d be interesting to sit on a bench. So I sat there for a while. A few people in heavy raincoats walked by while I sat there, and I amused myself by thinking about what they must be thinking about a lone girl sitting on a bench near the ocean in the rain. I used to do stuff like that to try to make myself feel better. I’d think that at least I was making other people’s lives interesting, or I’d make them stop and think. Like when I used to cry on the subway trains, on the ride home from school. I felt better about it because at least it was interesting, a girl crying on a train.

But today I actually feel something. Not that I didn’t feel anything those other times. But I haven’t felt anything in a long time this... feelable. I’ve actually been feeling it for two whole weeks. After I break up with my boyfriend I got with over the summer, I suddenly don’t know what to do. And it just builds; he doesn’t talk to me at all afterwards, even though we were friends for almost two years beforehand, and he really tried to convince me that he cared about me. But after the break up, radio silence. At first, I think, yeah, maybe it’s normal not to talk. To ‘give it time’, to get over something. But what the fuck is normal? It was three months of seeing each other nonstop. I think part of it is because we never really clicked, and that’s where it gets iffy — I suddenly think he knew that from the beginning, that we didn’t click. His words when we broke up echo in my head:

“So… do you want to call this off?”

“… Yes, I think so.”

“Me too.”

“Wait, really? Why you too?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the stuff you said before and I think you’re right. I noticed the things you said, but I just wrote them off because I thought we were early in our relationship.”

I’m understanding of this. I tried to break up with him before this conversation, said things like, ‘I still don’t know if I like you.’ I asked him if he felt a spark, and he took a long time before saying, ‘… Yes? I like you and I like hanging out with you.’

Just thinking about it makes me feel like a kid watching an adult film: I feel uneasy and I start to cry but I don’t know why.

So I think I understand, like maybe he didn’t realize we didn’t track exceptionally well, but, after thinking about it, maybe he did realize, deep down. And I start to think, what the fuck. What a fucking waste of time. I honestly get embarrassed; that like, I was a weird fuck-up, but he kept giving me the benefit of the doubt because I was into him. The thing is, during the summer, I was practically manic, whatever that means — more guys had been hitting on me than ever before, I’d been crushing on Chris for a year and he left his girlfriend of five years and we hooked up the next night. I felt funnier and prettier than most of the people around me, like I’d never looked or sounded this good. And suddenly, summer’s over, and I feel like I’m waking up. I’m like, maybe my personality is actually shit. All that cockiness for nothing. Chris has these friends who all have 200 likes on their Facebook profiles, 1,500 Facebook friends, real career jobs, hot girlfriends and boyfriends, and I’m lucky if I get 30 likes and I don’t talk to half of the people I used to. So many people leave; I’m just not that… ‘quality’. I don’t quite think he’s embarrassed he dated me, objectively, but inside his head, I suddenly wonder if he really ever liked me in the first place. I don’t even know.

On top of that, all of my friends are his friends. And none of them have talked to me in a while. They all wanted to date, at one point. I’m that girl. I’m just a dumb girl.

So everything comes crashing down. It’s been two weeks. I walk by the water, and I feel so hopelessly… bad. About myself. I look at the water for so long, thinking it’ll be refreshing, I’ll clear my head, but then the breeze hits and I feel something drop, and I’m on the dock and it’s so sunny, and my eyes are watering, and I dial my mom. She’s worried, tells me it’ll all be okay, that I’m amazing. I’m Serena. She tells me to buy a nice bottle of wine, go home and make myself dinner, have some chocolate. I’m sobbing on the phone near the dock, and not because I want to. I can’t help it — it feels involuntary. Real. Like I did nothing to move it into being. I just existed.

That’s what I imagine love to feel like. Like it happens to you. So this is happening to me. I hang up, and a homeless man comes up to me, starts telling me his story.

“My name is Tim,” he says, after a while, we shake hands. “I’m going home soon, visiting my mom soon, she’s 87. It’s the right thing to do. I’m not going home just to get a warm bed out of it, or anything. But my husband’s sister is a real bitch,” he turns away from me, swearing. “She wants the whole fucking thing, all of it.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He tells me he’s a drunk and a druggie, something about losing his son and in the car on the way home, his wife looks at him the same way I’m looking at hime (with teary eyes) and she says, “You know, I chose you over him.”

I never hear what happened to his son because he changes it up with a more lighthearted story about this girl named Kimberly, his girlfriend at the time, who took too many shrooms on Halloween.

“How many did you take, I say,” he says, “and she goes, oh I don’t know, 75. So I’m starting to get it. Me and my buddy, we can take up to 100, but it was her first time taking shrooms. So I turn to my buddy and I say, we wait for a bit, as soon as she starts to turn,” he points his thumb over his shoulder, “we high tail it out of there. Because, you know, you never know how somebody is gonna get. I know how I get.” And then he tells me he’ll answer the Big Question, he doesn’t want to, but he will. “Who did I love more, Kimberly or Denise? Denise, who had it all, the money, the nice house, everything? I’ll say I loved Kimberly more, because she… had… heart.”

He offers me a joint. Later he asks me if I smoke. I almost died, he says. We make jokes about his dad building a boat, him working on a shipyard, how the boats today... don’t function? I don’t really get it. “I wish I had that boat,” he points to a boat with people on it docked a few feet away from us. “Even though it’s shittier than the ones we used to build.” “You should just tell them to get off,” I tell him. “Yeah,” he laughs at the image, I laugh at it too. Then he gets all serious again. He almost died from an aneurysm when he was working behind a bar, and he says that’s when it all started falling apart. It’s not my fucking fault, he says, when can I catch a fucking break. I tell him it’s not your fault, meaning it.

“You’re an angel,” he says. “I know it when I see it. I’ll probably see you in heaven.” “I dont really believe in heaven,” I tell him, not to be a smart ass. I tell him that because I want him to convince me it’s real.

“Yeah.” he says. “I wish I could get a sign. I mean, any fucking sign will do. Anything.” He looks up at the sky. But tell me, seriously,” He looks at me. “Why are you so scared?”

“I’m not scared.” I tell him.

He looks at me for a while, then says, “You’re tired. You’re tired of being scared.” He looks at me some more. “But you don’t even know what you’re scared of, do you?”

I start to cry again, but no one around can see my eyes behind the sunglasses I’ve been wearing this whole time. He can though, he’s close enough. He looks at me through the dark lenses.

“It’s okay,” He says. “You’re an angel, I know it. You’re like Pamela Cooper (or some actress, I didn’t get his references. He called me Corey Hart earlier because of the sunglasses). You really are. I was young once. Life is so hard.”

“I have to go home to do an assignment,” I say.

“When are we gonna meet again?”

I give a big shrug, letting my hands drop so they slap my knees. “Around?” I guess.

“We’ll meet in heaven, he says. Because you’re an angel. I know it.”

“Good luck with your mom,” I tell him.

[rinnnyxr]

-

Foundation You don’t like to show off your flaws. You skin color is an ivory of some sort. You hate acne/zits. You like wearing masks for Halloween/costume parties. You have a red undertone. Total: 2

Mascara You hate using black mascara; You’d much rather use brown. You have really long eyelashes. You’re very long & lean. You don’t open your mouth when you put on mascara. One of your favorite features about yourself are your eyes. Total: 1

Hairbrush/Mirror Combo Your favorite color is teal. You look in the mirror often. You brush your hair often. People have told you that you are handy. One of your favorite features about yourself is either your hair or face. Total: 3

Blush Your favorite color is light pink. You like using sparkles. Your favorite makeup maker is MAC. Blush is a part of your makeup ritual. You’re pretty girly. Total: 1

Eyeliner You actually hate eyeliner. If you use eyeliner, it’s black. One of your favorite features about yourself are your eyes. People compliment on your eyes a whole lot. You borrowed something from a friend & still haven’t returned it. Total: 2

I am: hairbrush/mirror combo

-

Section One - Dating Dated someone you didn’t have feelings for? Hooked up with someone to make someone else jealous? Cheated on someone? Dated or hooked up with a friend’s ex? Regretted hooking up with someone? Had a rumor spread that you hooked up with someone, but actually didn’t? Kissed someone who was a really bad kisser? Been told that you were a bad kisser? Slept in your boyfriend’s clothing? Slept in your boyfriend’s bed? Lied about dating or hooking up with someone? Got in trouble for public displays of affection? Hooked up with two people in the same day? Had a friend with benefits?

Section Two - Partying Have you ever been drunk or high? If not, have you ever been offered drugs or alcohol? If so, do you drink and smoke regularly? Do you remember the first time you were drunk? What about the first time you got high? Have you ever been to a party that was busted by the cops? Do you or have you ever smoked cigarettes? Have you ever taken Adderall, Ritalin, or some other kind of drug to get high? Do you get bad hangovers? Do you have a friend who ALWAYS throws the best parties? Have you ever thrown a party? Have you ever passed out or thrown up from being so drunk? Do you ever wake-n-bake?

Section Three - School Have you ever cheated on a quiz/test? Has your phone ever gone off in class? Have you ever done anything illegal on school grounds? Can you B.S. your way out of getting in trouble at school? Have you ever skipped? Did you write a fake note or have someone call in and pretend to be your mom/dad? Have you ever gotten caught skipping? Do you think one of your teachers is creepy? Have there ever been rumors at your school about a teacher and a student hooking up? Do you ever stick gum under your desk? Have you ever used a proxy to access facebook/myspace/xanga at school? Have you ever stolen something from school property? Do you secretly enjoy school? Has something embarrassing ever happened to you at school? Have you ever been to summer school?

Section Four - Internet Have you ever taken a picture of yourself specifically for Facebook? Have you ever said that someone took a picture of you, but you actually set it on self-timer? Is there someone who you always Facebook stalk? Do you ever wonder who Facebook stalks you? Do you know the password to any of your friends’ profiles? Have you ever logged on without his/her permission? Have you ever sent a friend request to someone just because you thought he/she was hot? Have you ever sent a friend request to someone who you thought was someone different? Do you/have you ever watched porn? Do you know someone who has ever made a fake profile to pretend to be someone else? Do you think you spend way too much time on the internet? Have you ever chatted with someone on webcam?  Do you think internet stalking is fun?

Misc. Have you ever snuck out/snuck people into your house? Have you ever thought a sibling’s boyfriend/friend was hot? Would you hook up with the last person you texted? Have you ever stolen something? Have you ever lied to your parents about where you were? Do you/have you ever had a friend that you secretly hated? Do you have any regrets? Do you ever go commando? Do you like the size of your boobs? Are you comfortable with the way you look?

-

1 point Your phone has less than 20% battery You have a pink case for your phone Facebook app You have at least one picture of your pet I’ve got : 1 point out of 4

2 points You have a text about a store coupon You have more than 100 pictures Your ringtone is an actual song You have at least 1 reminder saved I’ve got: 5 points out of 12

3 points You have a passcode You used Facebook today You have an alarm set You’re using your headphone right now

I’ve got: 8 points out of 24

5 points Snapchat app You made a call today before 7 am Your recent text was to your mom The most recent text you have is from someone else I’ve got: 13 points out of 44

10 points You have 0 unread text messages You have a picture with your best friend You missed a call today Your screenlock picture has black in it I’ve got: 33 points out of 84

15 points You don’t have a smart phone You don’t have a note-taking app You have full battery You have less than 10 photos

I’ve got 33 points out of 144

[reminder-to-breathe]

6/18/18 10:32 pm

I needed to write this for myself and nobody else.

I read an article about how to get over an ex and it said you need to remember all the things their new partner gets to deal with now instead of you. So here’s a list of things that I’m never going to miss about you when I was your girlfriend.

1. The way you never wanted to give up drugs or alcohol for me.

2. The way you made me feel so special but yet still told me you had a habit of attracting the “crazies”

3. The way you made me pay for dates because you weren’t working

4. The way I wasn’t ever allowed at your house.

5. The way I was so scared of your mom disapproving of me, and when she met me - she hated me.

6. When your mom yelled at me in the parking lot and you didn’t defend me.

7. You accusing me of cheating on you when I told you I was pregnant

8. When you told me that you’d never forgive me if I had an abortion and you’d tell everyone what I had done.

9. The fact that I had to pay for raves/concerts and vacations and you never paid me back or even offered to.

10. When you told me you bought me a birthday present and it just “never came in the mail”

11. I took a college class for you so you’d make an “A” and you had the nerve to tell me that you didn’t even ask me to do that for you.

12. I had to threaten that our child would have my last name if you didn’t get a job - and you didn’t until the week she was born.

13. You didn’t tell me where you ever went... and one night you went out and totaled your truck and almost killed yourself and your friend.

14. I always had to ask what you were doing and who you were with - you NEVER volunteered information.

15. If I asked you to talk out a problem with me - you “didn’t want to argue” or “we’ll discuss this later” but there would never be a later.

16. You felt threatened by my family and didn’t even try to get close to them.

17. You insulted my mom and told her that her losing her vision was “karma” for her being rude to you.

18. You pulled out a gun and threatened to shoot yourself in front of me

19. You threw my phone against the wall and shattered it because you had suspicions I was talking to an ex-boyfriend.

20. You dropped me on the side of the road with no phone and all of my luggage.

21. You NEVER said sorry or felt guilty for all of it.

22. You were never going to come back to me and you said I was “stalking” you when I tried so hard to see you on the first day of class.

23. You told me if you hadn’t gotten me pregnant - we’d “probably” still be friends.... but not a couple.

24. The night you were drunk at a friends wedding and we listened to a baby cry (I was pregnant) and you were mad at me and you told me that you hoped I could do this on my own.

25. The way we couldn’t ever go out to eat without you getting sick from eating gluten.

26. You’d always eat gluten anyways and be sick and make us both suffer and not enjoy anything.

27. You never wanted to have sex.

28. You never made me feel beautiful - I felt like I had to force myself on you for any physical affection.

29. You’d never sext me back, you would just say I looked so sexy or that you missed my body - never go further than that.

30. You stopped going to my pregnancy check ups after my mom became involved.

31. You sued me for a paternity test the day after Christmas and didn’t even tell me you had done it.

32. You never helped me with our child past 6 months.

33. You made me come home from work early because you couldn’t take care of her the one night I asked you to babysit.

34. You never pay child support on time and you always complain when you have to do it.

35. You lied to my face and told me that you only recently started dating her but when you posted it on Facebook - you have been together since October.

36. You push me off you if I try to hug you for longer than 5 seconds because I just want to feel close to you again.

37. You stopped wanting to sleepover. When I asked you to sleepover it was always “next time.”

38. You told your whole family I was keeping our daughter from you when I wasn’t.

39. Always wanting me to meet your friends and hang around people I didn’t know

40. You always got mad at me for not introducing you to people.

41. You never wanted to open up to me and talk about anything personal

42. You always were so self conscious and didn’t let me look at you.

43. You cut your hair.......

44. You took out your snakebites and tried to look like more of an adult after our child was born but you didn’t try to actually change yourself and grow up.

45. I bought your sisters kid’s Easter presents and we ended up having a fight so they were never given.

46. We were only happy when we were high together

47. You never really liked my friends

48. You’re allergic to cats

49. You have no motivation to go to college and get an actual career.

50. After we broke up, you ignored message after message of me trying to get you to see your daughter.

51. My first Mother’s Day all you sent me was a “gif” saying happy Mother’s Day, you couldn’t even be bothered to type it out or have a conversation with me?

52. You missed our daughters first birthday party to work. Even though I begged you to take off and be there for it.

53. Anytime I tried to invite your family to things - you told me no even though you admitted later that you had just never asked them.

54. You showed your best friend my nudes.

55. As soon as we broke up, you smoked meth again.

56. Your dad was an alcoholic and you always wanted to follow his footsteps.

57. You never thought you’d live past 30 so you felt like life was pointless.

58. You hung out and prioritized friends more than you did me.

59. You don’t go to any baby appointments anymore or even pretend like you care how she’s doing.

60. You made an excuse and said the reason you couldn’t see our daughter was because of my feelings for you.

61. You made me feel like a horrible person for being in love with you.

62. You got me a pair of socks for Christmas and nothing else.

63. You brag about being “sober for a year” constantly but I know you haven’t been.

64. As soon as you get off probation - you’re going back to doing drugs.

65. Always saying you hate your job but never leaving it and bragging that you work the hardest.

66. We worked in the same building and you never came and saw me, not even once.

67. If I texted you something silly, you just called me weird.

68. I couldn’t tell you about all the things I felt.

69. I wanted you to propose some day and you never even mentioned it or thought about it.

70. You told me you’d follow me to the ends of the earth but you left as soon as things got hard.

71. You couldn’t look me in the eyes in the court room because you knew you had betrayed me.

72. We never wanted to watch the same shows or movies

73. You never wanted to take photos together.

74. You wrote me off as “crazy” rather than trying to fix anything.

75. You never pushed me or motivated me to do anything that was important to me.

76. You texted my parents and demanded to see our child when I was in Galveston because you didn’t want to talk to me (my parents didn’t birth her, I did!)

77. You always complained that 25 minutes was a long drive to come see me.

78. You didn’t like to drive at night so if I really needed you - you weren’t there.

79. You were never there.

80. You stopped telling me I was beautiful.

81. You always said “good morning sunshine” until the day you didn’t love me anymore.

82. You told me you weren’t ever going to date again - but you just meant you weren’t ever going to date me again.

83. You don’t give people second chances

84. You say you cut people out of your life but you still talk to them and still hang out with them (??? Seriously???)

85. You overdosed and blamed it on me stressing you out.

86. Everything always became a fight or an argument that we couldn’t solve

87. Your hard headedness

88. You think I sold our dog to “spite” you but it was really because I couldn’t handle him.

89. You totaled two trucks within a year apart of eachother

90. You’re on probation until August because of a DWI offense.

91. You never wanted to see a doctor to try to get better with your gluten allergy.

92. You always relayed information wrong to your family and made them upset with something I didn’t even say.

93. You dropped out of college because you didn’t feel like taking a remedial math course

94. You were homeschooled and never got to learn how to socialize with people.

95. You’re 26 1/2 and still living with your mom.

[reflectionsforalostsoul]

Time just slips away...

TRIGGER WARNING

.

.

.

.

.

TW Suicide

I’m just not really sure sometimes. Some days I feel okay, and the others I get sad again. My memory loss has affected me greatly. 

I will find a note on my phone or something on a piece of paper that I had deemed important, maybe a moment of inspiration or a message to Ronnie and I no longer have any idea what I am talking about. I found some lovely story notes yesterday that I had written a couple of years ago. I only know the time frame because I like to send myself messages on Facebook so I don’t forget things and happily I stumbled across messages where the names matched up to some of the notes in the notebook. I had been fretting because at the time I wrote the stuff down I had used abbreviations instead of names at times. One I saw repeatedly was MC, which I assumed stood for main character. A logical assumption, right? Yet another I couldn’t figure out. Repeatedly I saw a ™ referenced. Docs keeps correcting this to a trademark symbol (facepalm). 

It has been bothering me a lot. I had done a lot of work and I obviously cared about this character, but couldn’t glean from the notebook what it stood for. I hate writing things by hand, and evidently thought it wasn’t necessary to fully write it out. If I focus really hard I can vaguely recall the inspiration. It is of course mine, there are usually recurring themes in stories that I plan to write. But what did it mean?

Then today in messenger I had typed it out. Swype keyboards are so much faster than writing in pencil, thank god!  Taxi Man. How did I forget that? You obviously don’t know what Taxi Man means, so let me explain it to you, as best my memory can allow. 

My childhood was kind of rough. 

My family was quite poor and my parents didn’t have what you would call a happy marriage. My Father was abusive to everyone in the household. Both mentally and physically. When he was home sometimes it felt like being in a literal nightmare. You know that prickle of terror you feel on the back of your neck in a nightmare sometimes? Or those moments where you were so terrified that when you tried to scream no sound could escape your lips? It was like that sometimes. My Father was prone to mood swings, drank, and abused drugs. He had a myriad of problems, and refused to work. Just to give you some background on my state of mind when I first encountered the Taxi Man. 

So, to say I suffered from depression would be too simple. I was 14 years old and also dealing with normal hormonal changes. Ah..puberty. It will wreck you emotionally. Compound that with irregular periods and you have a recipe for disaster. 

I often thought of suicide. I didn’t really want to die, but I wanted my life as it was currently to end. I was tired of my life. Tired of the abuse. Tired of feeling alone. I cried constantly and did anything I could to avoid going home. My Father and I butted heads frequently. I was the only one in the house who dared stand up to him. 

This wasn’t what you think normal teenage drama is like. I was not rebelling because I wanted a late curfew, this was literally, “How fucking dare you put your hands on my Mother!” I had been terrified of him as a child, but there are only so many times that you can be hurt and pain still work as a fear tactic or parental deterrent. It wasn’t always in defense of my Mother either. Sometimes it was for my little sisters’ sake. 

My Father had quit working when I was about six and a half years old. He was trying to get disability for carpal tunnel, so my Mother got a job full time. My sisters were 2 years and 6 months old, respectively. If you thought my Father was going to change diapers or maintain the house while my Mother worked you’d sadly be mistaken. 

I am not complaining. I was never resentful. I had always been what my Mom called a Mother Hen. I loved my little sisters. So, I changed diapers, gave baths, brushed their hair. I dressed them, tucked them in, and tried to teach them stuff. How many times did I work on ABCs or counting? The situation was a bit confusing for them though. My youngest sister called my Mom frequently, and even the other made that mistake at times. I know it broke my Mother’s heart. She had missed out on the most important time for development in my youngest sister’s life, but there wasn’t anything to do about it. She had no family close by and I think was still trying to maintain appearances about her relationship with my Father. 

My Mother broke my heart. To me she was the most magnificent woman. I knew that I had the prettiest Mom. She had a beautiful singing voice. She was smart. Well read. But so painfully shy. She was that kind of person who couldn’t ever speak up for themselves. I remember being frustrated going to stores with her when I was young because she was too shy to ask an employee for help if she couldn’t find something. We would instead wander for what felt like hours until she managed to find the item she was looking for, or something that would just have to do. I am a protective person, it is just my nature, hence why Mom called me Mother Hen. So eventually I would stop a store employee and ask for her. She never would have asked me to do such a thing, and maybe this embarrassed her at times too. But to watch your parent struggle over such a simple task is heartbreaking. I couldn’t fathom why she had such difficulty speaking. 

But I loved my Mother and would do anything for her, so I decided to be her voice. I was always a rather take charge kind of person. 

So, of course I argued for her sake. I argued for the sisters that I loved in a deeper motherly way. I couldn’t stand how he treated them. It is one thing to pick on someone who can defend themselves, but my Mother and little sisters could not. That was our life. I could go on and on, but it is enough to give you an idea of why I had suicidal ideation. 

So, let me tell you how I met the Taxi Man. It was in a dream. The dream started with me sitting in the front passenger seat of an old fashioned Taxi. From the 1940’s, with pronounced fender flares. 

It was nighttime and we were traveling down a winding road with open fields for as far as the eye could see on either side towards a forest. In the driver seat sat an ancient man wearing a top hat. His shoulder length wispy grey hair was disheveled. A tag hung from the band of his hat, though I don’t know if it said anything at all. It was probably too old to have anything legible on it. His suit was tweed with patches on the elbows. He had a dingy white cravat that I imagine would have fluttered hauntingly if the windows had been cracked. Definitely someone interesting that you would have tried to absorb every detail of, but I was beginning to panic at not knowing how I got there.

“Where are we?” I asked, panic rising in my throat.

That is when he turned and reached towards me. That is when I saw it.

He had no eyeballs. 

His eye sockets were empty aside from small flames. You know that prickle feeling I mentioned earlier? It was happening now. He did not answer me, nor did he touch me. He instead reached past me, opened the glove compartment, and returned his hand to the wheel. I turn from him and look inside and am surprised to see a small television screen. 

It clicks on, and I am unable to look away, for I see myself in my own bedroom. I am sitting on the floor with letters scattered all around me. Mascara courses down my cheeks as I sob uncontrollably. I am unsure. I don’t remember this ever happening. Then the screen darkens again. That is when the Taxi Man spoke. 

“You killed yourself. That is why you are here.”

I quickly glance around and see that we don’t seem to be any closer to the forest, though the car has never stopped moving. The small television blinks back on and I see a funeral. There is a church, my family, and even classmates standing in groups talking quietly. My Mother stands by my casket crying into a scarf. She looks devastated and broken. My sisters are holding her hands, but their heads hang down. They do not lift their gaze even when someone stops to offer condolences. 

Then I see my ex-boyfriend walk in by himself, carrying a white rose. He pauses at the back of the room, the prospect of my casket seeming too much for him to handle. 

“It has not been decided yet.”

“What hasn’t?” I gasped. 

“Where you are going. You’ve killed yourself. I cannot take you to Heaven. So you will have to wait while it is decided. It is going to feel like an eternity.”

Again I noted that the car was not any closer to the forest, though the car kept a steady place. It suddenly made sense.

“Is this purgatory?”

The Taxi Man just nodded, his lips curving slightly. Was it an attempt to smile? I didn’t sense any malice from him. Just eternalness, and maybe… Maybe this was his way of trying to comfort me. The thought of an eternal wait, with your very soul hanging in the balance is quite frightening. 

It was an important dream to me. It felt so real. Like I had been given a warning. I thought of the Taxi Man frequently throughout the years, even sketched him a couple times. I just cannot forget him. I even dreamt of him more recently, though the interaction was not always pleasant. So, how did I not realize what ™ stood for in my notes? It is a frustrating thing. Though I never stay sad for too long. I always forget and move on to some other train of thought. Thanks for listening.