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thatmediocrestreamer · 6 years

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Another year almost gone, let's look back!

Welp, another year has gone by in this mortal coil, and I feel as though I've come a long way forward and gone a long way back in the process this year. There are many things I COULD write about on this blog, but for want of not rambling like a loon, I'll attempt this brief sentences thing like on twatter.

Part 1:New year. New girlfriend. New job. New hope? No hope.

Well, first things first, as I rang in 2018, I was seeing a girl who lived a hundred and odd miles up north, in a little town called Blackpool, a seaside town that up to then, I'd loved visiting.

Isn't it sad when people show true colours?

I learned very quickly at the start of 2018 that it only takes a short time for someone to demonstrate what they can truly be like, and the moment I did, boy did things take a sudden nose-dive from there.

The great Christmas bitch-fest of 2017

I'd agreed to spend Christmas of 2017 in Blackpool with the ex and her daughter. That was mistake number one. I'll never abandon family again, especially not when this year, my mum sadly suffered a stroke while I was in Blackpool, leading me to basically feel as though I didn't want to be there at all. The ex actually helped me feel at ease about it all, and comforted me in my time of need, ostensibly reassuring me it'd all be okay, and to her credit, it mostly was.

The wicked psycho witch of the North West.

The now-ex girlfriend from Blackpool was absolutely lovely as a person, right up until her mother came on to the scene.

Now, this was one hella poisonous witch of a woman. One who basically told me that because MY OWN DAUGHTER lives with my ex, her birth mother (a normal thing, no?) that I was not allowed to send her birthday and Christmas money, despite the two falling in a week of one another, purely on the grounds of dating someone else. I’m selfish and unfair for doing that, apparently. This coming from a psychopathic apparent psychologist who’s only marketable skill is causing total ructions with anyone she meets. So that, right there, landed strike one for Team Blackpool.

Apparently, I'm controlling, abusive and manipulative, don't you know?

The next mental alarm bell was set off in the form of me being branded controlling, just for helping said ex, who is rather short in stature, to rearrange her kitchen cupboards so things she needed most frequently were more easily accessible. Again, a perfectly reasonable thing to do, help out someone you care for, you'd think? BUT NO! I got branded as a control freak for this simple gesture of kindness.

So, we're two months in, and it's already two strikes for Team Blackpool, But the best is saved for last.

Christmas at Ground Zero.

The final malaise is more a three-part saga than a termination of ways. So, best to Buckle up.

The Google Home Sex- shopping list Saga

First in the trio of amusing things that led to the breakdown of me and the ex, was her receipt of a Google Home Mini for Christmas. (I'm gonna assume that, because you're on a Tumblr blog, you know what a Google Home is.) So anyway, it's Christmas day, her mum had come round to deliver some of the presents before going home and returning later to do dinner (the one nice thing she actually did the whole time I was there.) The ex had become fixated by the fact she'd received this Google Home Mini, and so we tested it's capabilities to the absolute max, even Going as far as to add sex- toys to a shopping list, along with concrete shoes and other amusing items, just because we both had a sick sense of humour.

Her mum came back and she was literally having not a single bit of it. This resulted in ANOTHER argument over the Christmas dinner table, again instigated by her mum, and again, totally uncalled for. So I proceed to lock myself in the ex's room, playing GTA the rest of Xmas day, to make sure I didn't have to deal with any more of it.

The intervention I neither needed, wanted or asked for.

So, it's Boxing day, a time for happiness, being thankful and general good cheer, but not in that household. So, because I'd decided that the best option to alleviate issues and discourse was to stay in the ex's bedroom on the PlayStation, a strategy that had mostly worked until that point. But not that evening. Her mum decided that the best way to make things better was by inviting her friends round and literally picking me apart downstairs while I listened. She made a passing comment about "he needs to get off his fucking arse and stop playing the computer games and get a job if he wants to support my daughter and my granddaughter." Of course I had none of that, and proceeded to sit at the top of the stairs listening, not appreciating being critiqued by someone who literally knew nothing about me. Then a full blown ruckus ensued downstairs where they demanded I come down before I got dragged down, and had police and my ex's dad threatened on me if I didnt. But what use was it? She wouldn't listen to a single word I said, and even went as far as saying that I ruined HER Christmas! Bitch please, what about mine huh?

The secret friend turned best mate, and the parting of ways.

Before the Christmas period, I had become friendly with a girl called Jen, who, to her credit has now become one of my best friends, and one of my other best friends lives with her as a partner (GG ReaverAF.) All too often though, people have mistaken my kindness for me being flirtatious. To that end, I can sort of see what the ex's point was, as I had asked Jen a few questions about if someone were to take her on a date, what would it be and why? Yeah that could be misconstrued as flirting to the wrong eyes, but nonetheless, that's irrelevant in a way to whats to come.

Things were at this point, not good with me and the ex, with her mum's attitude towards me, and the ex herself being in possession of a selfishness so strong it puts most self-absorbed narcissists to shame (not going into the whys though.) The final nail in Blackpool's coffin came in the form of the ex's overwhelming paranoia about what me and Jen had been discussing, so she waited until I was asleep and physically went through my phone to see it for herself. She found almost nothing of an overly incriminating nature, however still used this as fuel for blabbing to a lot of people, and alongside this, proceeding to wake me up from my reverie the morning I was due to return home to Nottingham, to have a FULL BLOWN argument about it all in front of a TWO YEAR OLD CHILD. As someone with children of my own, however, I was having literally not a peep of it, and so proceeded to pack my belongings, book a taxi and get out of there, not ever looking back on Blackpool again.

Two good things came out of Blackpool though, I gained two friends for life In John and Jen, and I also came away from there having been given a job by John!

Part 2 next week. :)

#anxiety #anxietyanddepressionawareness #abusive ex #controlling #invisibledisabilities #survivor #warrior #gamerswithadhd #livingmydream

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mgrt-blog · 6 years

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I Chose

It’s been quite some time since I even thought about signing in here, let alone actually doing it.

All the posts before this were from a different person. A young lad with the world in front of him. I was going to be a world class engineer; touring the continents, maybe get featured in a magazine or an award or something - I don’t know.

Here I sit, the sum of my decisions, the choices I have made. I’ve always been happy with my impulsive nature - always trusted it, even. But luck only lasts so long.

I made a choice a few years ago. It’s time to settle, have kids, have a house, have a car and have a puppy. I found her, I chose her, I worked on us to be together. I pushed (In hindsight, unfairly) for her to move hundreds of miles. Hundreds of miles from her family, friends, homeland. From her people, accent, mistakes and triumphs, proud moments and shameful ones. I thought I wanted to be that engineer before-mentioned, but it turns out I wanted her more.

We’ve known each other for almost 13 years now and she is the most unique thing in this world. There is no-one like her. But there was more to her than I knew.

My eagerness to be complete and whole made me sloppy and impatient. We moved in together very quickly - certainly far too quickly, I know that now. Things became rough, quickly. At first I thought I was becoming a violent, snappy and impatient person, or maybe I’d chosen someone that was those things and it was rubbing off on me? Shit, I don’t know. We both palmed it off as two stubborn and passionate people learning to not have to rely on only ourselves for everything.

Then the doubt started to settle in.

And my stubbornness didn’t fail me. And I’m glad for that, because I would have missed what so many men before me missed.

We moved house together. From a one bed council flat with our young puppy, to a 3 bedroom semi-detached. I put every bit of my knowledge and skill into that place. I knew there was something wrong but I didn’t know what.

Then it happened. The breakdown. Not weakness, but actually the result of many years of “Dealing With It”. You know, just getting on with it, pretending you’re alright so that you can pay rent, have a career and try and live some kind of life. I didn’t see it coming, she didn’t see it coming.

The strongest woman in the world, crumbled before my eyes. She had to rely on a man who could barely rely on himself. Turns out I’m probably better at looking after others than myself. She went off on the sick and I picked up extra work. Dealt with suicide attempts, episodes of self harm, lashing out, impulsive and destructive behaviour and so on. Eventually, I pushed for the doctor, once I showed her how... well, not usual, the behaviour was.

She accepted this. She had the strength still to keep her mind open and reassess everything she knew. I couldn’t have done it if I were her. I’d have buckled and be 6 feet under, but she is a survivor.

Fast forward two mental hospital stays, countless pills, suicide attempts, cuts, fights, nights of crying, migraines, vomiting and debt letters later and we find ourselves in March.

I have terrible credit, bad money sense and control, horrific prioritisation of personal funds - Fuck, call it what you like; Me and money don’t work together. So, I dropped the ball a lot with bills and funding debts. That’s on me. That will always be on me. So when I couldn’t keep hiding the letters whilst I figured out how to fix the money problems, it got real ugly, real quick.

She knew of my past debts and wasn’t happy to say the least, but I promised to get my shit together. Turns out, I fucked up again (Yes, under different circumstances, but still) and she couldn’t keep that frustration to herself. I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t be able to either. But I chose to try and shield her from mistakes. That is, until I couldn’t anymore. You see, she’s too smart to be lied to. Too smart to have things hidden from her. Even battling what she was battling in her own mind, she was still the smartest damned woman I ever knew.

Prior to this time, I had decided there was going to be a handful of things I wouldn’t stand for. I would not stand for:

1. Being called Selfish

2. Being told I make her life worse

3. Being told I’m hated

There were a lot more things I wouldn’t accept, but you can probably see where I’m going here.

She said them all in a 24 hour period. More times than I count. I chose to leave.

I chose to fucking leave. Yeah, I know I chose to leave. I chose to leave her there, in that house, alone with our dog, with no income, with no-one else to be there, with nothing else in her life.

What a fucking cunt. Yeah, I can hear you thinking it. What an absolute fucking waste of carbon and oxygen I ended up being - that I am.

I don’t feel good about any of it. I have my new place now and a new career and the only person I have to answer to is myself. Problem being, I judge myself more than any of you. How could I leave her like that? How could I be the person she would hate for the rest of her life? Compare every man to? Compromise her future love life because of?

I took ill to glandular fever when I was run down after being in A+E with her after an overdose. When I was 20, the doctor had never seen an immune system like mine. at 24 (At the time), I may as well have had HIV.

I was not healthy. Possibly dying. I had mild swelling on the brain, inflammation in my lungs, an ulcer in my stomach, pain everywhere I could imagine having pain - I was a mess. I was more than likely dying. No, fuck it: I was dying. I was!

You know, Facebook, Twatter, Instascam and all that shit, you see about those who have their problems, but you don’t see shit about the people who try and help them.

I lost my childhood friends, my colleagues, my brothers, the people I trusted. My family thought I hated them.

But her family. Her past loves, friends, colleagues, doctors and nurses. Everyone one of them missed it. They missed every single symptom, cry for help, distinguishable feature from a healthy individual to a damaged hero.

I loved her. And I know I still love her. And I probably always will. But she’s learned from being anywhere near me, hopefully things that will keep her safe, happy and healthy. I hope I was the only version of me she ever meets. I hope the next guy doesn’t have to do what I had to do for her. I hope there is a bundle of happiness awaiting her. And so fucking help me God, if someone ever takes advantage of her again, it will be the last mistake they ever make.

I can’t be around you any more, my little poop. You need to be happy again. You need to only remember me for the things that will help you in the future, and forget me for every wrong thing I ever did or said. Don’t let our two years be in vain. Do not let my mistakes be your mistakes. I promised you that you would be happy. I pushed your boat out, you started rowing - sooner or later, you will be picked up by the current and you will travel the world.

I promise you that I will be here when there is no-one else. I promise you that I will always care. We cannot ever be what we were and I think it wasn’t the best for us - I see that now. Just make sure he’s right for you sweetie. I have to let go of you. I have been selfish and that makes me a pretty shitty person and you absolutely do not deserve that.

I haven’t sent you this for a reason. If my friends find this, I’m not in a dangerous frame of mind. I fully intend to keep living because I know there are people who need me. Lil poop, if you find this, Just know I left this for you to find organically, because I know that when you need things the most, you will always find them. You are a beautiful little tank of raw explosives.

Keep being phenomenal. The world needs your strength.

#CrystalS #EUPD #Carer #Mistakes #LessonLearned #itsokaytonotbeokay

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smokeybrandreviews · 4 years

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Breaking Bad Actors

The myth of “Go Woke Go Broke” is hilarious to me. Everyone is out here reporting that, if you actually have a social conscious about your productions or business, you end of tanking your profits by alienating those who don’t “agree” with that position. This ain’t it, bud. Some of the most progressive shows on television, are some of the most revered. Avatar: The Last Airbender literally has no white people in it and no one cares. The show is good and respects the cultures it pulls from to build that world. Hell, even Korra has it’s moments, when it’s not up it’s own ass with the abrupt shift toward everything Avatar was against. Adventure Time was one of the best cartoons on television for it’s entire run. It grew up with the audience and never got preachy about it’s politics, even if the ending was a little forced. F*ck, man, Steven Universe exists. That sh*t ain’t my flavor but i get why it’s popular. Before anything, Steven Universe is a good show. It tells a decent story but the characters therein are what drive that show’s popularity. A stable of characters that are, effectively, all lesbian. “Woke” content can be great when the representation is integrated into the show organically. Owl House does a good job with this, or, at least it does so far. We’ll see if they start forcing things going forward. You start running into trouble when that sh*t is forced.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power is how you don’t do diversity in your shows. Look, i love Catra as a character. She’s the best thing about that show. Scorpia and Entrapta re close but Catra is the only character with any semblance of an arc. I'm glad Catra got her happy ending but it was a f*cking slog getting there. The problem with the new She-Ra as a whole, is that it’s an exercise in virtue signaling. This is a bad show to begin with, bad writing, poor direction, rambling plot, but calling out the lack of quality earns you the title of sexist or anti-female or whatever else, because the diversity of the show has been weaponized by bad actors for the cause. It’s wild to me because it’s sister show, Voltron: Legendary Defender, does the exact same sh*t and is still beloved, even if the last two seasons were less than ideal. Why is there such a stark difference between the two shows? It comes down to the quality of the narrative, the focus of the production. Voltron had a story to tell. It's characters were developed and grew along with the narrative. There was a ton of diversity in that show, even a whole ass gay marriage at the end, and no one was wielding pitch forks about any of that because it was organic to the story the creators wanted to tell. She-Ra was a framework for the show runner to preach at an audience. It fell into the same trap that Star Wars under Kathleen Kennedy did and fans responded in kind. Hell, the Castlevania adaptation is one of the best shows airing now, and there was a legit bisexual love scene where Alucard was visibly bottomed and no one bat an eye, never mind the race bent characters turned fan favorites. Isaac, I'm looking directly at you. You don’t go broke when you go woke. you go broke when you get antagonistic about your sh*tty narrative being called out for what it is and use the diversity in your show as a shield from criticism. If your sh*t is bad, there isn't any amount of black dude or gay chicks that can cover that sh*t up, bro. F*cking make a better show.

I actually follow a lot of right-wing blogs and watch what could be considered toxic male YouTube channels specifically to understand that point of view. I don’t agree with anything they ever say, but I would prefer not to exist in an echo chamber. I need to have properly diverse opinions and takes to be well informed. I'll admit, though, it is exceptionally hard to see their logic, mostly because it’s racially charged nonsense, but i get why they're angry. A lot of it does have to do with entitlement and ignorance but, under all of that backwards nonsense, there is a valid point which should be considered; No one wants to be told what to think. Overtly. You can‘t put whatever message you want in anything you make, as long as it’s subtle and clever. Take Get Out for instance. That sh*t is a straight up accusation of white people and their predatory ass nature but they love that sh*t. Jordan Peele spent an hour and forty-four minutes, calling these motherf*cker out on their bullsh*t and they gave him an Oscar for it. Audiences rewarded his veiled sermon about the parasitic nature of white “culture” with fifty-seven times his budget, in profit for the studio, catapulting his directing career into the stratosphere. How the f*ck did he pulled that off when Brie Larson became the arch nemesis of every neck beard, toxic man-child, and MAGA cultists on the entire interwebs for just saying that we should have less stories about white dudes? Subtlety. Get Out is a masterclass on how to say something career-ending, while packaging it in an incredibly palatable way. Before anything that film is excellent. The writing is on point. The message is cleverly buried under layers of outstanding performances and deft direction. You’re too entertained to consciously realize you’re being directly accused of being sh*tty people. Cats aren’t looking to engage intellectually with their entertainment so you can technically say whatever you want, however you want, as long as you distract them enough to miss the sermon on a conscious level. Larson openly making her stance known to Hollywood, while commendable, is too easy. It's too direct. Sh*t makes you a target, not a hero.

Diversity matters. I think that sh*t should be in everything because the world, itself, is mad diverse. A lot of the culture here, in the states, is driven by people who look like me. Fashion, music, sports; The stuff that get the youth going is all manufactured by people with melanin. It’s mad disingenuous to present a “Hollywood so white” face to the world when the world looks so much more colorful than that. If this year has taught us anything, it’s that there is a very vocal minority that hates to see faces which don’t look like their own, prosper. Entire cities have burned because of it. Entire careers have been lost because of that. The answer isn’t to go the other way. The answer isn’t making “The Force Female.” The force was already female. Ahsoka Tano, Darth Talon, Mara Jade, and Darth Treia were all female but also great f*cking characters. Rey was a plot device that cheapened the already rich and diverse universe that Lucas allowed great creators to expand. The force was already female, and black, and Asian, and white, and blue, and green, and red, and orange, and whatever else because it was designed to be that way. Star Wars failed and sent Disney into a panic because they let a chick with an inferiority complex and massive ego, do whatever she wanted with a franchise that has existed for forty f*cking years, because Twatter has opinions and so does she. Kennedy forgot to make sure the plot around those opinions was good enough to distract you from her politics. She forgot to tell a good story and just decided to preach. No one wants that sermon in a movie, not even the most Woke motherf*cker in the world.

As a creator, myself, i get it. I’ve been on the other side of that Tumblr activism and, more than anything, it feels like if you don’t agree with whoever’s politics, you are automatically the problem. I mean, i got called racist for the way i speak by a black chick, while being black myself. It was surreal and stupid. This chick didn’t like the tone of two reviews i wrote, on a blog with eleven year’s worth of content. Like, for real? Okay. I type how i speak on that blog and i can’t help that i speak with an “urban” flair. I grew up in the ghetto. I speak to my friends like this because they grew up in the same neighborhoods. I actually have a firm grasp on grammar and syntax. I’m a proper writer by trade, working toward getting my first novel published and, guess what? It’s chock full of f*cking diversity. Not because I'm preachy, but because that’s a realistic portrayal of the whole ass world. Because i grew up in a neighborhood that had White people and Mexican people and Asian people and Indian people and Native people and Pacific Islanders and Fijians and whatever else. The world is, inherently, diverse and catering to one extreme or the other is f*cking ridiculous to me. Just tell good stories with strong characters. If the narrative is accessible, you can inject whatever the f*ck you want to say directly into the audience but you have to have a great story to start from. You have to make those colorful characters real. You have to package that bitter pill with a sugary coat so it goes down easy for those who would refuse the dose. If not, you’re just going to antagonize the audience and no one is going to give you the time of day. They're just going to tell you to get out.

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smokeybrand · 4 years

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Breaking Bad Actors

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