I hope that in 200 years people are saying "hold my beer" and "no regerts" before doing something unspeakably stupid, and some etymologist has to sift through all of our old memes to figure out where the hell the phrases came from. I hope our memes enter the general lexicon and leave future people going "THAT'S where that came from?? You've got to be kitten me!"

I’m just here to steal your songs

1. I’ll with want - The Avett Brothers

2. The Origin of Love - Hedwig and the Angry Inch (NPH)

3. Give me Novacaine/ She’s a rebel - Green Day

4. Walking Man - James Taylor

5. 32 Flavors - Ani DiFranco

6. For What It’s Worth - Placebo

7. Basin Street Blues - Dr. John

8. Better Way - Ben Harper

9. Breathing - Atmosphere

10. Going Gone - Abby Ahmad

You can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to.

Put your favorite playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs then tag ten people! No skipping! (or maybe some skipping. I’m not your dad, do what feels right)

- Darkness - Eminem

- Everything Is Alright - Motion City Soundtrack

- Wonderwall - Oasis

- Come To My Window - Melissa Etheridge

- Sail - AWOLNATION

- Legal Assassin - Anthony Stewart Head (Repo! The Genetic Opera)

- The Only Time - Nine Inch Nails

- I Miss You - Blink-182

- Run Boy Run - Woodkid

- The Sound Of Silence - Disturbed

Tagging: @yggdrasilsystem @mythmotel @wonderlandtraveler @yallshouldsleepmoremydudes1803 @masaotheheckindog @haikyuupaladin

(I’m struggling to remember URLs but you’re all invited ❤️)

TW: pet loss

It’s been about 6 months since my dog died. I got him in 2012 when he was a puppy. He was meant to be a therapy dog for me, but he never completed any training, that is to say that I was never able to complete his training. We got him to help me get out of the house, but he just ended up inside with me. I got bigger and more depressed, and I think he did too. I remember the first time he bit me, he was pretty young. It happened a few times that I woke him up and he bit me. Or I would try to give him a bath and he would bite me. It wasn’t a constant problem. There would be months, sometimes a year between biting me... or someone else. I always found an excuse for it, and I tell you I would excuse him this very day, because I know that I was not a good dog owner. The love was there, but I wasn’t able to give him everything he needed in the midst of my own disability.

When I got pregnant, I knew that there was a possibility that he would bite my daughter. I was very careful with the two of them when she was very small, but he took to her so quickly. He loved her. Gave her kisses. Laid with us all the time. He greeted her first when we came home from the hospital. He bit her 3 times. The first when she was around 1 year old. He had stopped wanting to be around her. She was getting more mobility and he seemed scared of her. He was big and fat and his joints were hurting him. I didn’t know what to do. The idea of giving him up was too painful, especially since the entire situation was my fault. This last time he bit her 2 days before we were getting the keys to our new rental. He bit so deep into her little hand, I was afraid he had broken it. I took her to the hospital to get X-rays and get her cleaned up. Thankfully her hand was not broken and she didn’t need stitches.

That night I stayed up and wrote to a breed specific rescue. I told them about him, about how much I love him and how I just wanted him to have a chance. I was honest that I failed him, and that he had bitten people. They agreed to take him and I signed my rights to him away. For years it was just him and me alone in the house together. Him me and my agoraphobia. For 8 years he was no more than 5 feet from me at all times. And I gave him away. They came 2 days later and loaded him up in the back of a car. I wrote a note for the new foster mom. Told her all of his idiosyncrasies, the foods he likes, how to lift him if she needed to (always on his left side), his favorite things to bark at, how much I love him. And then he was just gone. I had spent months looking for a rental that would allow a dog and then he never even made it here with us. We got the keys to our new place the same day. I have yet to feel at home here without him.

The first day we slept here wasn’t for another few days. I had emailed my original contact for the rescue that morning because I found some of his puppy paperwork. As I was laying down for our first night here, I checked my email. They had driven him 2 states away and taken him to the vet first thing. The stress of being taken away and driven so far away had put him in a state. After that he went home with the foster mom and he bit her. They killed him the next day. I didn’t get to that part in the email. She had said that the vet recommended putting him down and I knew what they had done. I just started screaming. I think I probably screamed for 10 minutes before I just sobbed instead. I thought I was giving him a chance and instead I sent him off to die alone. I know he died looking for me, and it was entirely my fault. Grieving has been hard, it’s not something I can talk to other people about (my dad said: I’m sorry, but I’m glad he’s dead. He bit my granddaughter), and it’s not something I will ever forgive myself for, so I think I’ve just been cycling through the stages of grief on repeat. Never quite getting to acceptance, or if I do, it doesn’t last. A few times I feel as if he has visited me and told me that he’s okay, and I think that he is. They’ve been just really lovely dreams honestly. I know that he’s okay now, but I’m just not.

I want to do something to memorialize him, but everything just seems too cheesy and not good enough for him.

Me test stitching new full fill designs: ooo that shrank in such new and exciting ways!

Ugh

Ahh, the good old feeling-like-a-failure-in-the-morning depression

Fiancé is a nap fiend. Any where every where, he will sleep. He freely admits this. He works 3rd shift right now, but he has been like this for the entire 6 years I’ve known him. I don’t typically take naps because I always wake up panicked and sick feeling, but today I’d love to just get an hour nap. I got about 4 hours of sleep because I was up all night working. Due to circumstances out of our control (Covid and temp work) he hasn’t had a check since January 8th and won’t be getting paid til next week. So I’ve been trying to hustle money from our living room. He has to work tonight, but he took a nap on the couch and then went to bed last night, effectively throwing off his sleep schedule. I told him I need a nap because I can barely keep my eyes open and he told me to go take a nap.... and then he went to the bathroom for an hour and then went to the basement to smoke for an hour and a half or more. When he finally came back he said, “go take a nap, but don’t give me shit for taking naps when you’re getting one and I’m the one who actually needs it.” He has literally never asked to take a nap. He has never said, �� hey, you got the girl? I need to take a nap. I need to go to the bathroom for an hour. I’m going to disappear in the basement all day. I’m running to a store 2 towns over just to fuck around.” He never has to think, “who will take care of my daughter? He never has to get two people ready to leave. He just hops in the car, or jumps on whatever idea as it occurs to him, but I ask to take a single one hour nap and suddenly I’m a hypocrite for ever giving him shit for falling asleep and ignoring his family. It’s an ongoing almost daily issue of him disappearing on us, but I’m the asshole who wants a nap. This dude will even fake falling asleep just so he can wait you out and do his own thing, but oh god I asked him to watch his daughter for a whole fucking hour.

So yeah, now spite and anger are my rest and sustenance I guess.

can we weaponize comfort already? 

a lot of places have a culture that valorizes never sleeping and not eating right and not taking breaks and stuff like that. 

fuck that. I want like

look at how comfortable and well rested I am. I am well-nourished, I take bubble baths, and I have a good work-life balance. 

self-care has made me strong. has running yourself into the ground made you strong?

I will destroy you. and then I will have a pleasant lunch.

can we weaponize that?

okay but maybe the voices of actual disabled people should be considered more relevant in discussions on disability rights than the voices of abled people

Ooo this needs to be repeating and printed on fabric. I wanna make all the hoodies with this!

🚀

I have so much work to do and all I want to do is play among us

Also, I just really want a “Clue”/Murder mystery style among us

Little miss had her 3rd birthday a couple weeks ago. I made her a brownie cake and a piñata that ended up being too strong to bust... lol 😅

It’s been awhile since I’ve been back on tumblr, but my shits gotten so bad lately that I need something, some kind of outlet. I feel so goddamn alone and my mind feels so stretched thin that if it doesn’t just completely snap, it surely will never fully recover. I thought I was getting better for a while, but the stress of the last three years has taken a toll. My daughter is everything to me, and I feel like I started out with so much joy and energy. Little by little my energy has run down and I have no way of resting to recuperate it. I have no friends, my family is toxic, and my fiancé is in a word, awful. He’s manipulative, a gas lighter, liar, he blames, critiques, always angry, so fucking angry all of the time. He uses my limitations against me and I’m stuck with him. I’m disabled, I have zero money to my name, zero support system, and I’m afraid if I tried to leave him, I wouldn’t be able to bring my daughter with me, or more to the point, he would fight for custody and win. I can’t even trust him to watch our daughter for half an hour. He falls asleep and she gets hurt or makes just the most epic messes of all time. My executive function has gone out the window almost entirely because I am severely disabled and the only one caring for our daughter 24/7. I’m the only one worrying for her, planning for her, teaching her, dressing her, feeding her, changing her. I can’t do for myself anymore because every drop of energy goes to her and there is never a break. And yet he holds it over my head that I’m not doing enough. I am so lost in this depression and loneliness and it’s not fair to her, and meanwhile this man doesn’t even care about his daughter enough to let me have a break. If he does miraculously take her out of the house, he takes her to his moms house, so someone else will watch her. Still, it’s the only way he can be trusted with her.

I hadn’t left the house in a while. It’s hard for me to get out when there isn’t a pandemic, and the longer I stay in the worse it gets. There were more months in the year than times I went inside a public place in 2020. I went outside a few times, but it’s hard for me to even step out on my front porch, or go into my back yard. Sometimes I forget there’s a pandemic going on out there because I have simply not experienced the masks, hand sanitizers, temperature checks, and empty toilet paper aisles. If I need something, I order it or he goes out to get it. Yesterday I felt cabin fever kicking in again. I always have a low grade cabin fever, it’s been like this for 12 years, but the cabin fever has to be greater than the anxiety and mixed with a touch of mania for me to be like, “must leave now.” So I said let’s go get something to eat. I meant a drive through. When I get out of the house, I stay in the car the whole time, even before the pandemic. We were pulling away from Taco Bell and I mentioned that I thought the nacho fries were loaded because of a picture. He started asking me what loaded fries were. I know that he knows what loaded fries are. So I said loaded, like loaded fries. And he kept insisting I explain what was loaded. At that point I had no idea what he wanted from me so I had no answer that was acceptable for him and we ended up getting in a ridiculous argument over goddamn loaded fries. Turns out he wanted the precise toppings I thought were on the loaded fries, that evidently doesn’t even exist. I misinterpreted a picture. All because I misinterpreted a picture and he felt I should have memorized the menu in anticipation of him asking me what loaded fries were. It was awful and so fucking stupid. All I wanted was to leave the house for 20 minutes. We ended up arguing the whole way home and in the kitchen. By the time I started trying to calm myself down I realized that I had been completely triggered in an episode. By which I mean that time felt different. My episodic memory was skewed. There were blank spots in my memory when I had become the most frustrated and confused. Everything was coming back to me in flashes or pictures and feelings. Which screws me, because if he can trigger me to lose pieces of time, then he can control the narrative. He said that I was demeaning him and making him feel stupid for asking. That was never my intention, I legitimately didn’t understand what he was asking me. It wasn’t until I calmed down that I remembered his crack at the window when we got our food. He made sure the window was open and the lady was there to chide me on being indecisive and worrying about what other people were ordering. Like I was a child. (We always get the 12 taco box, but I got a meal this time and wanted to know if he was going to get the party box, because if he was, then I shouldn’t get the combo meal. Like not a big deal, but an important distinction if you’re not trying to waste food or money.) It was a ridiculous argument and I feel a little silly trying to go into every minutiae detail of trying to order our food, but I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and got ridiculed and then grilled over the Taco Bell menu. Anyway...

It’s hard for me to leave by myself, that requires a whole other recipe of confidence and mania. I usually feel like I need another adult as a life line. I just don’t know why I keep feeling like I can use him as a life line. He does this every time we go somewhere. In fact I stopped going to the grocery in large part because he was the only one left who would go with me and he ends up disappearing the second we’re in the door, or he criticizes me for being so slow or browsing, or not taking the most military like detailed path through the store. Because no matter what you are doing, he could do it better, and he’s going to tell you all about it. I use to shop with his brother, or my best friend, but his brother isn’t around as much anymore and my best friend/sister since kindergarten is severely disabled now as well. I have told him a million times that my senses get overloaded in the store and that I have to take it slow, that I have to stay calm and collected, or I won’t be able to continue shopping, but he doesn’t care. I think he wants me to fail.

I stopped driving us places because he constantly criticizes me. He tells me which parking place I should have taken as I pass it which always sort of deletes my brain a little and then he uses that second of confusion in me to jump in full force about what I “always do” wrong and “why don’t you” ever and when I finally get parked it “took me long enough” and what’s the difference between that spot and the spot he said. Usually the spot is closeness to the door. He will park at the very edge of the parking lot knowing I won’t want to go in if he does, while I look for a closer spot so I can easily exit the store. My entire body is exhausted by the time I leave, so I know I will need to park closer. I’ve told him this, he knows this. The parking is just an example. He uses the entire drive to somewhere to poke at me until I am a mess of anxiety and then I no longer have the energy for whatever we’re doing. I do just fine when I drive by myself or someone else. Just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with my driving, I don’t speed, I don’t follow anyone too closely, I don’t run red lights, slam on breaks just to piss someone off, I don’t swerve through heavy traffic, I don’t roll my window down to yell at people, I don’t cut people off and yell at them for it, I don’t act like I own the road, but he does. He does all of those things. He gets so angry in the car and it makes you feel so uncomfortable and anxious you’ll melt into the seat. It’s awful. He’s awful.

When our daughter was born, I had a renewed since of confidence. I stopped saying sorry and I started just getting pissed. In a way it has backfired though, because now I’m pissed and bitter and he acts like I’m the one abusing him for calling him out on his shitty behavior. Basically he’ll pull some asshole move, I say hey that was wrong of you and he acts completely dejected and will sarcastically say, “you’re right, I’m the asshole.” He makes it impossible to argue with him. He will make shit up, twist my words to fit his narrative, describe to me MY intentions (which is never correct), he will change his story and say it’s been his story all along, he will switch sides of the argument in the middle and tell you your argument was his and his was yours the whole time so that he feels he’s come out on top, and mostly, when you prove him wrong, he will simply deny anything happened directly to my face when we both witnessed it and he will expect it to end there. If I try to say any more about something that he decides didn’t happen he will yell at me to shut up and he will put a hole in the wall or in a door to punish me.

When I try to talk about a health issue that has been plaguing me, he often will make a stupid joke, change the subject, or just interrupt me and bulldoze right over, but it doesn’t fail, within 2 weeks he will be complaining about the EXACT same thing, and if I don’t take him seriously, I am the asshole who doesn’t care and only ever wants to talk about my health.

He ruins every holiday. Without fail. The night before a party with my family, he will purposefully sabotage his sleep, get a few hours and then wake up as the grumpiest person ever. He has on multiple occasions said that if I remind him that we need to be to bed early he will have to stay up. Making it my fault that he stayed up because I presented an opportunity to rebel against someone and he has to take it. Seriously. He doesn’t do this with the same frequency or intensity for his own family parties of course. He acts completely embarrassing in front of my family. He will talk down to me, or get drunk and start lying poorly to family members trying to seem interesting.

So anyway. That’s life in a nutshell right now. And if anything, I’ve got my feelings out so I could easily recall them if I needed to for anything more ... official. It’s hard for me to compile all of my thoughts on all of the things. My memory is shot to hell and it’s easy to get caught up in “well maybe he’s right” when I can’t see the whole picture. My grammar and structure is not the greatest, but my daughter will be waking up from her nap soon, so it will have to do.