#this keeps happening bc im extremely poor and have very few options

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesdaypost may be delayed to some point tomorrow or not happen at all bc of *gestures vaguely at smoking cratered remains of video game career*

[gloxinian]

ik i talked to him abt wanting to still be friends but, after thinking a lot, i’m really not comfortable still talking to somebody that was that toxic to me fr so long.  and ik posting this might not be the “classiest” thing to do but i feel like i have to get it off my chest bc otherwise a part of me is pushing to say “it wasn’t that bad” or to excuse it bc “well he apologized and said he wouldn’t do it again” even tho he kept doing these things and showed literally no signs of changing.  and i’m so tired of entering these conversations and having it lead to no change or be twisted to be about pitying him.  this isn’t really a callout or anything so i’m leaving his name out and there aren’t receipts or anything.  it might sound trivial bc i’m starting with the small stuff and working forward but idk.  i’m just tired and felt like i needed to write smth out.

im not sure the best way to word this, but i never felt like i could enjoy things or have things just fr myself.  the only way i could talk abt things was if i was criticizing them or it was smth he loved.  these are just a few things and alone each of them would just be annoying, but it all just compounded into making me feel miserable like i wasn’t allowed to love anything.

when i showed him a series that was very important to me, the first the he did was insult the art style, characters, story, etc.

when i started getting excited about pokemon swsh and the new pokemon, he immediately started mocking my favorite ones and sending me posts/articles talking abt how the game was going to be garbage, even after i asked him to stop.

when i got my first noise cancelling headphones and was excited abt how well they worked, he immediately told me that it was a good thing they were noise cancelling so i wouldn’t be able to hear him crying.

constantly glancing over my shoulder and making fun of what he saw me playing or enjoying.  new game he doesn’t play?  looks stupid/cheap/boring.  not doing great?  makes fun of me for doing poor even after i repeatedly tell him to stop.

and whenever he said something particularly upsetting like that headphones thing, he would immediately say “oh it’s an intrusive thought” or “oh it was just a joke” when i got upset and confronted him about it.  and he’d immediately turn around and make the situation about him and how i should be pitying him.

the worst examples of this come from over a year ago when i was still in college.  my depression was hitting me really hard bc i was back living at home instead of dorms, i was struggling really hard with classes, and had teachers that mocked me whenever i tried to ask questions.  i was actively suicidal during this time and had repeatedly expressed worries to friends and family that i wouldn’t be able to support myself in the future, that i was a failure, and i felt like my only option was to drop out so i would have at least some control in my life.  this was the lowest point i’d ever been.  i’m going to list a few things that happened from smallest to worst and it’s important they all happened during this time.  and he was aware this is how i was during this time.

he was friends with somebody that actively hated me.  fine, not that big of a deal bc friends don’t always get along with boyfriends.  but how this was handled was absolutely horrid.  this friend insulted me whenever i spoke, even told me i shouldn’t talk period.  he kept being friends with them and insisting we hang out more.  that friendship only ended after (1) they accused me of being a pedophile bc i felt physically sick hearing ppl talk abt loli/shota stuff.  and i was the only one who called this out for being so.  fucked up.  to call someone that for being distressed by even seeing cp terms.  he only said he’d talk to said friend after i was incredibly/vocally upset abt this. 

one night depression almost got the best of me and i stopped responding to any calls/texts/etc.  said friend got annoyed he was scared i might actually be dead.  this was the event that actually ended that friendship and honestly i’m mostly upset it took that friend literally not caring if i was dead for my boyfriend to actually give a shit how i was being treated.

he fucking.  cheated on me.  and told me how he was planning on moving in with the person he was cheating on me with “in case things didn’t work out with me”.  he knew i was suicidal over being uncertain about my future and did this, even telling me he was cheating on me BECAUSE of me being suicidal and uncertain.

the worst thing for me is that ofc he managed to make this about him.  maybe it doesn’t make sense for it to feel worse, but it does to me for some reason.  last time we even spoke about him cheating on me, he went on and on about how he hurt he was bc he felt used by the person he cheated on me with.  bc that person stopped talking to him after he told them he didn’t want to do sexual stuff anymore. 

things didn’t really get “better” or anything once i graduated.  if anything, they just got more stressful.  i was still stressed at whether i’d be able to support myself, but a bit more stable now that i had a job and a degree.  my ex moved in with the promise that he would be working to get a job so that he could support himself, grow confidence, and keep things equal.  i don’t.  have the energy to detail everything and don’t know if it’s right.  but the short of it is that i constantly had to nag him to even send out applications and he didn’t even want to go to interviews.  things got really stressful between us and it eventually came out (after i told him the relationship was unhealthy and unbalanced, that i had no desire to support him entirely as this was a source of extreme stress and a lot to ask of someone new to the work force, etc) that he expected me to fully support him financially and that was what he wanted.

he wanted me to fully support him financially, to take responsibility for improving his entire emotional maturity and recovery without taking any initiative, and to fully care for him once i got home from a full day of work (as i’ve been doing).  there was never a “what can i do for you?” or any signs/desire for positive change.  it was only “what are you going to do for me?”.  the relationship was incredibly unhealthy, unblanced, and it was clear that i wasn’t a partner but a surrogate caretaker.  and when i broke up with him, he accused me of breaking my promise to support him.

and i just.  i’m tired.  the whole relationship felt manipulative and unhealthy, looking back.  i don’t know.  maybe i’m wrong.  but i just don’t feel comfortable continuing to speak to somebody who repeatedly put me down, treated me like an expendable resource, and targeted the thing they knew i was most vulnerable about (my own independence and being able to support myself) when he knew that had made me suicidal in the past.

i know we have some shared friends and he’s probably going to paint me like some villain to you guys.  he already compared me to his previous abuser multiple times.  i don’t want to start some stupid “war” or drama or whatever and won’t push back or argue or anything because i have a ton on my plate both health and financially right now.  i don’t have the energy for stupid drama.  maybe i included more details than i should have, but i also left out a lot of details because i’m not really sure how much is appropriate here since this isn’t a callout or whatever.  there aren’t “receipts” since many of these things were personal interactions and i’m not looking to prove anything or make a callout.  you don’t have to believe me or read this or idk.

i just wanted to get this all off my chest.

[ghoulstars]

im only posting this bc i desperately need to exorcise this thought somewhere bc it wont fucking leave me alone

those of you who know me personally or follow my instagram know about this but for those of you who dont: in a horrible turn of events, our plan to put down our geriatric yellow labrador retriever dixie was unfortunately and unexpectedly doubled today to having to put down our 3 year old engam bulldog, bean, as well

when we got him in mid december, 2015 he was barely out of puppyhood, we found him wandering around near the highway at our local gas station with a collar and no tag, trying to jump into two out-of-towner girls’ car. my stepdad intervened bc they couldnt take bean with them obviously, and brought him home instead.

we put up lost dog flyers everywhere all over our very small city, in an attempt to maybe see if someone would indeed come forward for their dog. we knew he wasnt just a stray because of his collar.

almost right off the bat, we were told by a woman who worked at the gas station that there was a man who lived in the trailer park just across the road, located behind the pancake diner. you can see it from the gas station parking lot. she told us that he had a lot of dogs that he typically kept chained up outside in poor conditions, and beat them regularly. to us? it seemed totally reasonable that that must’ve been where bean came from, given the fact he was a dog and we found him literally less than 50 feet away from where this fucking man lived.

no one came forward to claim bean. we kept those flyers up for months, we only put them up to begin with knowing he may have been thrown out by (or escaped from) this disgusting man just because there was the possibility that it wasn’t his dog, but someone else’s. as well as the potential for legal intervention if this fabled abuser found out we had technically stolen his dog (and full disclosure, fuck him for what he does, i hope all his dogs get stolen like they need to be, i myself was not fond of the idea of just giving the dog back to this creep if he was indeed the owner but i was only 16 at the time so there wasnt much i could do)

with no one claiming bean, after those months passed, we decided that he was ours now. flyers were taken down, we gave him his collar and nametag, to be real he’d already been named by us in the first few days we had him. he was going to be ours no matter what; my mother always told me its a rule that if you name a stray, and do it quick before anyone can object to keeping it, it’s yours now. that’s your pet, with it’s new name.

so we carried on with our lives, now having not just one dog, but two. it was a bit iffy with my stepfather keeping bean since we didnt technically need to manage two dogs at the time, but we still did it anyways because we loved him, the little bean man.

but here’s where my problem lies and this is why im writing this now: as time went on and we continued to have bean as our pet, some stuff about the original suggestion that he belonged to an abusive older man who lived in close proximity to where we found bean wasnt adding up

due to dixie’s failing body, she would sometimes lose control of her bowels inside the house, which was becoming unacceptable when she stayed in overnight. so, she stayed outside. she and bean bonded, so they stayed outside together too. (and for clarity here, i know what some of you might want to say, but we knew very early on that bulldogs do not do well with heat or isolation. we also know that dixie probably shouldve been put down years ago, but here’s the trouble: my stepfather would not let us euthanize her. she is his dog technically, and the thought hurt him so much that he would not agree to it for YEARS. dixie and bean were too attached to separate them for long periods of time like they would be if we kept bean inside mostly and her outside mostly; that would’ve been cruel in its own special way. we put pools out for bean and visited with both dogs for as much as we could outside, bathed them, put fans out for them in the summer. our only option to give bean the main love and care he needed was, and of course we had other reasons to do this, to put dixie down, which was where we thought we were finally going to be by tomorrow, but thats not what happened, as you can tell)

as to be expected, bean sometimes found his way inside, mostly by applying his american bulldog traits to memorizing when unfamiliar guests would come over and bolt in the house. he did this enough times and very recently we were letting him stay inside instead of taking him back out, and all of these experiences combined, we noticed something: bean was housebroken. he was out of practice with it, and did not know very well how to communicate that he needed to go outside to use the bathroom, but he did know what to do. he would run to the door if he had to go, not always making it, but still, he was housebroken. he only marked furniture once while inside, in his entire lifespan thus far. that was a red flag to us, but especially my mother, who realized this skill of beans directly contradicted the statement that he was probably kept outside, chained up, starved, and beaten by the trailer park guy. not to mention, bean came to us in nearly perfect condition to begin with, just skinny. no patches of fur gone, he was the opposite of skittish and aggressive, no bruises, nothing. just a loving, bouncy, stupid bulldog mix

this, im not sure if im correct about this, but it stands out enough to me that i feel its worth mentioning: bean is not a mutt of any kind, and his breed contradicts those types of breeds most people who abuse animals come to own; usually large breeds, breeds inaccurately known for aggression, and breeds used by abusers to make aggressive bc they know the fighting power of these dogs (pitbulls, american bulldogs, etc). bean is an engam bulldog (english/american mix), which is a very obscure mixed breed dog to begin with and especially obscure where i live, and as we all know english bulldogs are short, stout, fat little things that can basically do no harm whatsoever. they also have a history of inbreeding to look how they do. i know this man may have just seen ‘bulldog’ and snagged him thinking he’d be aggressive, but that does not sit right with me for two other reasons: bean’s conformation (body structure) and coloration. there is nothing about bean that suggests he was bred to be used for fighting, or that he’s a true mutt, or anything of the sort. his body type literally resembles that of show dogs, and his fur coloration is highly unusual because he’s blue. obviously not literally blue but the type of blue-grey you can find in animals, typically seen in cats. bean’s coloration is almost NEVER found in ANY breed of bulldog, it is INCREDIBLY rare that he looks like this. his condition in which we found him, his housebrokenness, his color and his body formation lead, in me and my family’s opinion, to an alternative opinion: he belonged to someone that got him because they wanted a dog as a pet, not to beat, and they either bred him themselves or bought him (probably from a pet store or breeder) for his color and conformation. 

but why would they dump a dog this valuable? my mom said this to me earlier, sobbing after she returned from the vet today, and this is my whole reason for writing this insane fucking novel of a post: whoever dumped bean threw out a sick puppy, and on purpose.

bean hasnt been injured or contracted an unvaccinated illness or anything like that. he had been experiencing extreme stomach distension for the past month, whereas he was losing weight everywhere else on his body. he had also been vomiting. but he wasnt depressed, or lethargic. maybe his personality was a little off but not so much it was horribly noticeable, and at that, he was still eating regularly everyday. we came to the conclusion he had parasites, though ive always been terrified something more serious was going on (i dont get listened to though).

as it turns out, i was right. mom took him in today, the day before dixie was set to be put down, for his deworming pills. what she got instead was a diagnosis of possible lung cancer. his blood work was normal, which is unusual in animals with cancer, but he still had nodules on his lungs that highly resembled cancer. his heart was also severely enlarged due to heartworms, and his stomach was so distended because it was full of fluid and blood. they did send his blood off for labs, but even if his lungs were fine, he was going to die anyway (they got a second opinion from another practice and they also agree it was probably cancerous). he has a 15% survival rate for only the very first heartworm treatment, which will cost $500. nothing lives very long with an enlarged heart to begin with. we don’t have that money, and for a treatment that will definitely kill him? i dont even know why he has so much blood and fluid in his digestive tract. bean, a dog who is only 3 or 4 years old, has an enlarged heart, lung tumors and fluid/blood all in his abdomen. the vet was apparently stunned that a dog this young could have this many potentially (and one definitely) fatal health problem(s).

i now fully believe that whoever owned him before knew he had all these issues, or that he was going to develop them. i think it makes sense. i also think they’re cheap, cruel fucks who didnt want to shell out that much money to take care of him, or pay to take him to a shelter/sanctuary, and so what did they do? they did what many people these days very regularly do when their new pet has become undesirable: they fucking dumped him on the side of the road and booked it. took his nametag off and everything, to make him look like a stray. they left him for some well meaning, animal loving family like mine to find him, not know anything about these preexisting health issues, and assume he’s healthy enough; maybe just needs a few more vaccinations and a worm and flea treatment. he showed no signs of lung cancer or heart problems in all his life up until this past month, and he’s still so young. i will even go as far as to say that he himself may be severely inbred, which could be the cause of these health issues. given his specific posture and color, and that he’s a bulldog, it’d make sense. it seems like he came from some kind of breeder to begin with anyway.

so now that ive said that and got it all out of the way, i want to leave an open letter to the hypothetical cunt that did this to us and bean:

i hope god fucking strikes you down where you stand. i hope every single day of your miserable fucking life, you think about where he ended up, if he’s still alive, if anyone found him, if he ever got hit by a car or died alone of cancer and heart failure in a field somewhere. i hope you feel guilt for leaving him knowing he’d develop cancer and that he had heart worms, and knowing you did it BECAUSE of that. i hope you never fucking forget about the fact that you threw an INNOCENT LITTLE PUPPY out on the highway because you just didnt want to have anything to do with his illnesses, and i hope one day you find out what you did to us and this innocent little boy. he’s such a good fucking dog, he is so patient, kind, loving and gentle, and when he has bursts of energy to play he fucking goes, and now he has to die barely halfway through his lifespan because of your fucking negligence. he is laying outside on the porch right now, uncomfortable with fluids and blood backing up his intestines, coughing and huffing just to try and breathe. at the very least, if he were taken to the right shelter, he couldve been fucking cared for and given treatments to extend his life as much as possible, or at least given hospice care for however long he could live, which has now been shortened to 3 or 4 years. if you yourself knew this dog was inbred or you inbred him yourself, fuck you. i hope you get run over by a fucking truck. this breed can live from 12-16 years, that’s a LONG time for a dog like him, and you had to fucking ruin it all because of your own fucking preferences; you wanted the perfect dog. and you could’ve had him if you’d grown a fucking heart and actually gave a shit about animals beyond how they look aesthetically; as well, if you fucking actually gave a shit about your animals HEALTH and wanted to maintain it instead of apparently assuming he’d just be fine and healthy with all his vaccinations and that’d be the end of it. you do not deserve to own an animal if you dont even want to acknowledge it will sometimes need medical care, how fucking heartless are you? we never had enough money to take care of dixie’s failing health, and we always knew it’d be better to put her down, but my stepdad kept refusing. you had enough money to fucking breed or buy a blue show-quality engam bulldog and you still wouldnt fucking care for him after you found out what problems he had. fuck you. eat shit and die. i hope you never find peace from the guilt of knowing you fucking killed what became our dog because you’re selfish. my mother is physically sick with grief. i am physically sick with grief. i feel so bad that it’s as if i have the fucking flu. i was trying to talk with my mother about this situation earlier and i had to rush to leave because i felt like i was about to throw up if i didnt. everyone in this house has cried so much today it’s disgusting. 

the only thing good about this is that bean came along for dixie when she needed him most, and became her helper and provider, giving her company and being a literal post to lean on for when she couldnt see where she was going. they’re going over the rainbow bridge tomorrow morning together, and in a way, this is probably the best outcome. at least bean wont have to grieve. dixie can see her old companion again (who died from a ruptured tumor in 2014) and bean can meet him, and they can all play and be together in that field in the sky. 

my family will never have another dog again because of this pain this has caused us.