Last Seen Blogs
daggerofthemind
trans jim kirk truther
achilleanauthor
The thoughts of a chaotic and very gay writer
kiki-is-being-purples
Doodley-Noodlings
aapkilathi
Aapkilathi
Text
“You seem lost…”
“Oh, sorry. I was just zoning out.”
“Mom said you stopped by.”
“Oh. I can imagine what she said about it.”
“It’s mom.”
“Yeah, I know. I went over to tell her about...well I’m going to see a therapist again.”
“Oh. Good. Not good like...in a mean way-”
“Ha, naw I gotch you. It is good. I hope it’s good, at least. I don’t know. I’m not doing it alone this time. I know that, I hope that is...I hope that will make a difference.”
“I think it will. I think everything's better when you realize you aren’t alone. It’s hard nowadays with everything going on around us but...I think the more people uplift rather than shove you into a pit of bad news the more we will all just...get better.”
“Just get better, huh?”
“You know what I mean, ya brat.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“For real though. I’m proud of you, I really am. It’s hard to be honest about it; yes more than just joking about it.”
“I just figured if I’m going to be in this body for another billion years or so then...well I better at least somewhat be able to enjoy it right?”
“I think that sounds like a good idea to me. At least I know if I’m also going to be around for a good chunk of time then...might as well enjoy myself, too.”
“Well hey, how about this; I see this new therapist and if she’s any good I’ll pass along her number.”
“Yeah I mean if she can fix someone as broken as you-ow! I’m joking! I’m joking!”
“And you call me the brat, ya brat! Ha, so there.”
“So...how’d mom take it?”
“It didn’t go...wonderfully...or even mediocrely. Maybe...maybe one day it’ll hit her and she’ll come around ya know? See things the way I do, see I’ve been trying to explain it to her… Or maybe one day she will take a step back and see the damage she’s done all on her own. Maybe. Maybe if it’s not always so ‘terrible’ ya know...if she could find a way to be okay about...having messed up in the past you know? I wouldn’t need to blame her if she took responsibility, I honestly think maybe if she were to open up about all this mental health stuff she and I could maybe get along again…”
“That would be nice for sure. Don’t hold your breath though.”
“Ha. Trust me. I won’t, I’m not that depressed.”
“Ha. Ha. So funny. Dork.”
0 notes
Photo
Sophie Jung
The Shadow Cabinet DRUNKS I – Decomposing, 2020
437 notes
·
View notes
Audio
946 notes
·
View notes
Text
“When I was-”
“When you were what?”
“When I was a kid I used to spin myself on the swings until it made me sick; like vomit sick, ya know? And-and dad knew this, he confronted me ya know? Scary for a ten year old, when your dad says he knows what you did. But see the thing was he still took me out of school; scared the crap out of me, I knew this was different, he was mad. Like, capital M, Mad.”
“Well of course, you were making yourself throw up on purpose, and what for?”
“He took me down a street I didn’t know, told me to get out and when I did he drove away. He. Drove. Away. I am pretty sure I cried so hard I peed myself. When I realized he wasn’t coming back I started walking and I was fine once I saw our street up ahead… but still for an hour I stood there in my piss pants terrified. And you two were there...watching TV when I walked in the front door. You were home. It took me years to realize that meant you had to have asked dad where I was and he had to have told you and you let him.”
“We knew where you were the whole time.”
“No you did not. I could have been taken or... or run off a cliff, you’d never have known.”
“We don't have cliffs here.”
“Not the point.”
“It made you stronger. Or at least it should have. Instead you’re here fussing about this 20 years later.”
“That wasn’t the only time you guys did things like that to me though! It messed me up!”
“Your generation is too sensitive-”
“Do you not understand that your actions as a parent affect us for the rest of our lives, why can’t you accept what you two did was wrong.”
“It builds character, you’ll understand when you are a parent.”
“It builds trauma! And trust issues!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me in my own house.”
“You never even asked.”
“What?”
“You never even asked me why I was making myself puke. When I was little, you never asked if there was a reason.”
“You always complained about anxiety. You were 10, you didn’t have anxiety.”
“There was a group of girls that would take my lunch and flush it down the toilet if I didn’t bring lunch money with me that they could then steal; I was being bullied really hard and told to keep quiet and I was never able to talk to my own parents because they didn’t make me feel safe.”
“You could have told us something like that! We always told you you could tell us any issues you were having at school.”
“Fuck you.”
0 notes
Text
“-and everything keeps moving and moving and moving and since I graduated I've not been able to catch a break and I'm so scared this is what my life will be like till I die and I romanticize running away with you to someplace warm and beautiful but I'm scared it's not what I want it to be and I'm scared that it will continue to be a hassle and I'll never live, I'm not living, I'm just moving through a foggy existence and hoping I'll wake up and something will change for the better but it never does. I wake up every day lost and stuck in a body that feels like I'm being chained down. I'm constantly influenced by the people I used to know and I see their pain online when they post happy photos and I think is happiness even real? Is anything but depression and dysphoria and being lost... real? Is anyone ever happy? Is anyone ever happy? Or is it all a lie? Is it always a facade? Do the grannies on trains who whisper small happinesses, lie? Or is their past shaded in strawberry light? Am I suffering for no reason or is this a part of the bigger picture? Will this sad night in a deep tub be lit with pinks one day? Is it always a facade? does it really just feel like this forever? Will it change?”
“Okay Shakespeare c’mon now, that is some heavy shit right there…”
“I just… am lost and There is no way to fix it. I realize there is no way to fix it but...I think that’s what scares me...the realization this is my life forever.”
“It doesn’t have to be, does it?”
“Well why not? Who is gonna fix it, ya know? I can’t, that’s like asking someone who’s drowning to just take big breaths and no one wants to help because I am not their burden, they have their own scary dark past.”
“Dude, I think you need professional help.”
“Yeah. I probably do. It’s so rare anyone gives a shit in the mental health field, I’ll just end up in a loop of hospitals-”
“ I give a shit. I give a lot of shits.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll help you find a therapist, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry if Imade you think I don’t know that you care about me. I know.”
“I get it. Sometimes I’m not the best at being there for you when you need me to be. I want to talk about that sometime; the things I can do better to...hear you and understand what you need.”
“I’d really appreciate that. Honestly.”
“Good. Because I am determined to turn those sad soliloquies into something a bit more exciting. Or into poetry; hey that could be a good outlet!”
“Ha. No way buddy, no way.”
1 note
·
View note