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maybeebeee · 4 years

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The Instance of the Curry Cup

Hi! I haven’t written and posted something in quite a while, but Pokemon SWSH has absolutely consumed my life so here’s a little thing while I’m writing a much bigger thing!

A group chat leads to a party that leads to a curry cooking competition. Piers relentlessly teases Gloria for having a crush on Hop. Hop has a crisis. Just another day in the life of some of Galar's most prominent figures.

As a note for the group chat section of this fic, here are the nicknames to note which characters are who!

Hippity Hop = Hop Eat Sand = Raihan Champion Time Snr = Leon Croon Toondra = Gloria Mermaid = Nessa Big Tiddy Goth GF = Piers Flame Dad(dy) = Kabu Wooloolooloo = Milo Kung Fu Fighting = Bea Rocky Horror = Gordie Baby Goth = Marnie

Rated G, some mild language use | Hop, Gloria, and the other rivals are around 15/16 | Read on AO3 or under the cut!

It had all started with a group chat.

Not long after becoming Champion, Gloria had been added to the gym leader group chat. Leon, Piers, and Opal were still in it and she had learned quickly that Piers, Gordie, and Raihan were the instigators of most of the chaos in that chat. Marnie seemed to encourage her brother a little too much on that front, but overall it was fairly controlled chaos.

Then the second group chat came about.

Raihan had started it, mainly to avoid Melony’s constant reminders to be aware of the language being used with Allister around on the other chat. Subsequently, neither Melony nor Allister were on the new chat.

Nearly everyone else was, though, besides Opal. Even Hop and Sonia had been added, given that it was more of an open chat than the “official” gym leader one. Given that combination, however, it was far more of an ordeal to try and deal with that group, and with Piers and Raihan apparently never sleeping at all, it felt like Gloria’s Rotomphone was constantly buzzing with notifications at even the most insane hours of the night.

It had been just over a year since she’d won the Champion Cup, and Gloria now found herself standing in the kitchen of Leon’s sizable flat in Wyndon, surrounded by the physical embodiment of the most ridiculous parts of that second group chat.

Raihan had suggested the party-but-not a few weeks back, and after a fair bit of negotiating schedules, it had been decided that tonight was the best night to do it, so here they all were. Gloria was glad for the reprieve from her neverending Champion duties, and she’d been absolutely over the moon to see Hop again after what seemed like forever.

And now here she was, knocking elbows with her rival-slash-best friend as they and a bunch of their partially tipsy adult friends battled it out in what had been dubbed the Curry Cup by whoever had suggested the stupid idea in the first place. Probably Raihan.

“Two minutes left!” Slurred Sonia from across the bench. She was just about completely relying on Nessa to stay on her feet at this point, yet somehow still had it in her to decide how much longer those of them competing could cook for. Coming to these gatherings had certainly been an eye-opening experience for Gloria, seeing so many of the most well-known figures in Galar coming together and getting completely sauced for the hell of it.

“You said ten minutes literally thirty seconds ago!” Hop whined, haphazardly throwing in some extra ingredients to finish off his curry when Sonia simply waved him off. Gloria wondered how much of Sonia’s hangover her friend would have to deal with at the lab in the morning, or if the young professor simply wouldn’t show up at all.

It certainly wasn’t two minutes before all of the participants were ushered away from their curries, but Hop still seemed quite confident with his final product. Gloria couldn’t say the same for her own, especially being so used to taking her time with cooking when she camped out with her Pokemon. Not that she had much time to do that anymore, really.

“Sorry to say, but I’m definitely crushing you in this competition, mate, I can just feel it!” Hop said as he slung a friendly arm around Gloria’s shoulders, watching intently as Sonia, Nessa, and Bea walked along the row of curries on the bench to judge them all. Gloria tried to ignore how warm her face was suddenly feeling, but the look she got from Piers told her she wasn’t doing a great job at hiding it.

Damn her own big mouth for blabbing to him about her crush on Hop, the one time she couldn’t sleep and happened to be awake at three in the morning, with Piers being the only one she could think to message at that hour. It had been a good conversation, actually, but still.

Every time she’d seen him since then, it seemed like he was teasing her about Hop. Even directly in front of Hop. It was constant, but Piers claimed it was because Marnie didn’t get crushes on people, so he was using her as a stand-in when it came to teasing about that kind of thing.

Ignoring the ex-gym leader’s very obvious silent mocking, Gloria turned her attention back to Hop and lightly elbowed him in the side before wrapping her own arm around him in return. “As if,” She laughed, “Who’s the undefeated champion in this room? I’ve got this in the bag.”

As it turned out, neither of them were destined to be crowned the Curry Cup Champion, and the competition ultimately went to Leon. Hop decided that it was all rigged because the judges weren’t sober, and had wandered back into the living room with a dramatic huff as most of the other guests went to congratulate his brother.

Piers seemed to take the opportunity to suddenly appear next to Gloria with a ridiculously smug look on his face. “Seems you’re ‘aving fun. Said anything to ‘im yet?”

She folded her arms and pouted crossly. “No. Cannae say anythin’ with you nearby anyway, you’re such a pest.”

Piers scoffed. “Please. I’m doing the both of you a favour, bruv, since ‘e won’t say it and neither will you. The two’ve you are gonna go crazy if this keeps up. I’m gonna go crazy if I ‘ave to watch you idiots keep dancin’ around each other for the rest of time!”

“Shut up, he’s obviously not got anythin’ to say on the topic. Do ye know how much he talks? Surely he’d have said something by now if there was somethin’ to say.”

“Do you ‘ave any idea how much he talks to me? ‘E always messages me at times kids your age shouldn’t be up, sayin’ how he doesn’t want to bother you but can’t sleep and keeps thinkin’ about you so ‘e decided to message me and blah blah blah. Please just tell ‘im so that he actually messages you when he’s thinkin’ about you, there’s only so much more of his sappy shit I can take.” Piers practically begged, seeming like he was mere seconds away from pulling out his phone to show her the evidence. Gloria didn’t doubt that Hop had messaged him plenty, but she still wasn’t convinced that he reciprocated her feelings, even though she knew she had no reason not to believe Piers.

Still, she pulled up the collar of her cardigan to try and hide the bright blush on her face at the thought of Hop being all sappy about her. The question still remained, though, “Why doesn’t he just tell me that himself? Not like he hasn’t messaged me at four AM before sayin’ he misses me or whatever. Gotta say I’ve done the same, prob’ly more sappy than him too.”

Piers gave a dramatic sigh and turned back towards the kitchen. “I need another drink. You’re ‘opeless, the both of you.”

Gloria let out a huff of her own, but decided now would be a good time to retreat after her rival, hoping that maybe now they could actually catch up a bit more now that she’d gotten Piers off her back and everyone else was still preoccupied in the kitchen. Only, she got to the living room and found Marnie and Bede, with no Hop in sight. The other two weren’t sure where he’d gone, only giving a vague direction to “outside.”

With that clue in mind, Gloria headed for the balcony, recalling how Hop had mentioned once that he liked to stand out there and see if he could spot Postwick in the distance, past all of Wyndon’s bright lights and vast expanse of the Wild Area even further past that. It seemed like a good place to start.

True to her assumption, Hop was leaning against the railing and squinting out into the night, so she casually sidled up next to him and prodded his shoulder. “Thinkin’ about something, Hopscotch?” She questioned, a gentle teasing note in her voice.

Hop shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, mate. Just the usual.” His tone was flatter than Gloria had been expecting, so she raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her yet.

“The good usual or the anxiety usual?” The teasing was gone now, replaced with concern as she let her hand rest on Hop’s shoulder. Many late-night phone calls over the past year had made Gloria well aware of the fact that her best friend still suffered greatly from the many untruths and insecurities that his mind threw at him, even though he seemed to be doing better than he ever had before on the outside, and it was always heartbreaking to watch when he got like this.

“Stop calling me out like that.” Hop joked halfheartedly, his weak smile quickly falling back into a frown, “But really, don’t worry. Just me getting all upset over something stupid again, which is the usual.”

Gloria squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll bet my hat it’s not stupid. Is it the competition?”

He nodded sheepishly following a moment of silence, as if he knew he wasn’t getting out of this now. “It is stupid. Who gets worked up about losing some stupid curry contest that Raihan came up with anyway? It was supposed to just be some fun thing and I ruined it for myself by...by doing what I always bloody do, you know? Losing, and then getting upset about losing, and then getting upset because I know I’m never going to be number one at anything, and then beating myself up for being so stupid, and--”

“Hey.” Gloria interjected, “You’re not stupid, you hear me? Losing doesn’t make ye stupid. Being upset about things doesn’t make you stupid, and your brain lying to you about your worth doesn’t make ye stupid. You are not stupid, alright? You’re strong.” She encouraged, shifting to settle her arm properly across Hop’s shoulders and pull him closer to her side. Their height difference was making it a little harder now that he’d suddenly sprouted almost half a head taller than her since the last time they’d seen each other, but Gloria didn’t care.

Hop didn’t say anything, but leaned into her a little more, so she continued. “You wanna know a secret? You’re my number one. Always have been. So don’t go sayin’ you’re not the best at anything, because you’re the best to me.”

There was nothing but the sound of Wyndon's bustling streets below for a long moment, but suddenly Gloria was being pulled into a tight hug, with Hop's head resting atop hers. "Thanks. Really." He breathed into her hair, "For the record, you're my number one, too. Undefeated champ or not." The soft laugh he let out that time was genuine, and Gloria couldn't help the smile that came to her face in response. Never would there be another sound as sweet as Hop's laughter, she thought.

When she finally leaned back just enough to look at Hop properly, Gloria had to take a breath to compose herself, suddenly noticing the lack of space between their faces. She hadn't intended on that happening, so she tried to ignore it, like she always tried to ignore her feelings for him. "Say, I was thinkin' about going camping in the Wild Area tonight, wanna tag along? We could make some curry together with our Pokemon, no competition allowed." That wasn't exactly the usual way one went about ignoring their feelings, but at this point she figured it didn't matter. How many times had they camped out together anyway? No big deal.

Hop beamed. "Sounds brilliant! Shall we go now?"

Gloria laughed, but was already reaching into her bag to find Flygon’s pokeball. Since becoming Champion she’d realised she needed to be extra careful about keeping her Pokemon as close to her as possible, especially given that she now had Zamazenta as a trusted member of her team. She didn’t want anything to happen to any of her dear Pokemon friends, which was why these days she always kept her bag on her, or at least within arm’s reach no matter where she was. Just in case.

Flygon let out a happy trill as it burst from its pokeball, setting down expectantly on the balcony behind Hop and Gloria as if it already knew their plan. The two young trainers quickly climbed aboard the eager Pokemon's back, and Gloria's heart began to race when Hop settled in behind her and curled his arms around her waist. We're about to take off, you daft bastard, of course he's gotta hold onto something, she reminded herself.

“Alright, Flygon, let’s get goin’. To the Wild Area!” Gloria announced. The Pokemon didn’t hesitate to take to the sky once again, both of its passengers whooping with delight once the initial jolts and jerks had passed. Maybe a Flying Taxi would’ve been a smoother ride, but there was something so much better about trusting your own Pokemon enough to transport you safely to where you wanted to go, and it was certainly cheaper than paying to get all the way to the Motostoke side of the Wild Area from Wyndon in a Flying Taxi.

It had already been reasonably dark when they’d left Wyndon, being a little while after dinner time by then, but by the time they made it to North Lake Miloch it was well and truly night time outside. Gloria had actually started to doze off at some point when there had been a pause in conversation, and she awoke with a start as Flygon landed back on the ground. Thank goodness for Hop being able to direct Flygon as effectively as she could herself.

Still, the heat rushed back to her cheeks when she realised that she’d been leaning almost entirely back into Hop’s chest as she’d fallen asleep, but by that point she could only hope that he hadn’t taken too much notice of it. They’d fallen asleep on each other plenty of times, anyway, why should it matter now? Catching feelings was annoying.

If Hop had thought anything of it, he didn’t mention it, and the two of them went about setting up camp with as much friendly banter as usual. Gloria had a handful of berries and half a bag of mushrooms in her supplies, while Hop had some other berries to contribute as well as a few potatoes. They figured it would all mix well enough together, so they let out all of their Pokemon and set to work.

“Maybe letting twelve Pokemon have free reign of the camp wasn’t the best idea.” Hop commented when Gloria’s Flareon came up for the third time to try and taste some of the curry before it was ready.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” The Champion said coyly, gently shooing away her meddlesome Pokemon, “They’re all such angels, they’re not doing anything wrong at all.”

Hop laughed. “You’re right, it’s just Flareon. And also our Dubwools chasing each other around everywhere. And Zacian and Zamazenta looking like they’re about to murder anyone that dares get too close to the camp.”

Gloria shrugged as she fished around for a few plates to get ready for serving up. “At least they’re looking out for us. I feel better having them ‘round, just in case.”

“Fair call.”

Not long after that, the curry was served and most of the Pokemon had been settled down by the offer of some food. Hop and Gloria sat close together by the fire that Flareon and Hop’s Cinderace were keeping an eye on, and chatted idly about this and that, all sorts of things that they’d missed in each other’s lives since the last time they were able to meet up, or even have a long conversation on the phone.

There were neverending topics to cover. Hop being able to do research on some of his own projects now, Gloria’s latest exhibition matches, silly things they’d caught their Pokemon doing...it always felt as though they’d never missed a beat when they saw each other, like no matter where they left off they could always pick it right back up again.

“You know,” Hop said after a while, once they’d both truly lost track of time and could only guess that it was some time in the middle of the night by now. Gloria was leaning against his shoulder, with his arm casually draped around her in return as they both lay up against their Dubwools. “I really wish we got to do this more. I mean I know we’re both really busy and all now, but…” He sheepishly glanced away, “I dunno. I just miss you, mate. A lot.”

Gloria gave a gentle smile and leaned into Hop a little more. “I know the feeling. Seems like we went from seeing each other every day when we were growin’ up, to once or twice a week during our Gym Challenge, to now...what, once a month if we’re lucky? It’s stupid, I just wanna see my best friend all the time.” She sighed.

How long would it be after this time that they’d be able to spend an extended period of time together like this again? Sure, Gloria had tomorrow as well, but after that she had to head to Kalos for Arceus knew how long for all manner of exhibition matches and photoshoots and advertising campaigns. It was unfair how little time she got to spend at home anymore, she still didn’t know how Leon managed to do it for ten years straight, and from an even younger age than her, for that matter!

Hop’s next quiet comment cut her out of her spiralling thoughts. She could’ve sworn there was a slight blush tingeing his cheeks, but it could’ve just been the firelight. “Best friend, huh?”

She quirked up a brow in surprise and sat up slightly. “Aye? Always have been, always will be, you know that. Is...something wrong?” Surely this wasn’t going where her lovestruck teenage brain was hoping it would. There was no way Hop liked her like that as well. Piers could not be right about this whole thing.

The boy in question kept his gaze trained on his lap, but Gloria felt his fingers tapping a nervous pattern on her shoulder, where he still had his arm around her. “I, um.” Hop started, rather eloquently, “I...like you. As in, like like you. And I think I have for a really long time but I just never wanted to say anything because I figured you wouldn’t like me back since we were always just best friends, but...sorry. You don’t have to like me back, I just wanted to let you know. Just in case, I guess. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.”

Gloria could’ve sworn her heart stopped in that moment. She felt like she was acting on autopilot when she reached over to grab Hop’s free hand, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as well. His skin was soft and warm under her lips, and she felt so giddy as she drew back to look at Hop’s adorably surprised expression, his wide golden eyes and slightly parted lips. An irrational part of her mind wanted to lean in and kiss him properly, but now certainly wasn’t the right time for that.

“Of course I like you back, Hopscotch. Honestly cannae believe you didn’t notice how unsubtle Piers was being about teasin’ me literally every single opportunity he got, he’s an idiot.” Gloria laughed, giving his hand a squeeze as he seemed to still be processing what had just happened.

Hop managed to sputter out a laugh of his own a second later, pulling Gloria closer to his side and planting a little kiss of his own to her head. “Are you kidding me? I thought Piers was teasing me about it constantly. I had a three AM crisis to him months ago about it, I can’t believe it.”

Gloria snorted in her laughter, causing a few of their nearby Pokemon to look at her with concern. “I did the exact same thing. Arceus above, I really thought he was havin’ a laff when he said you were messaging him about me!”

“Serious? With the way he said it I was sure he was kidding when he said you were doing the same thing as me! Maybe he was right, we really are dumb.”

Somehow they ended up in a bit of a tangle as they laughed, unapologetically clinging to each other now that they were both apparently on the same page with what it all meant. Maybe nothing had really changed that much with their admissions at all, maybe - much to both of their dismay - Piers had been right, and they’d just been subconsciously waiting for someone to say something this whole time.

Either way, once they had finally composed themselves enough to focus, Gloria leaned in to press her cheek up against Hop’s. “So...Hop, my dearest best friend and favourite rival.” She teased, “You wanna...be my boyfriend as well?”

Hop grinned, his eyes crinkling up with glee. “Gloria, mate, my number one and favourite champ, obviously yes.”

Gloria beamed. “Great. Brilliant.” She whispered giddily.

The following morning, a photo of the two of them in close quarters surrounded by several of their Pokemon was sent to the group chat, accompanied by a short message.

Hippity Hop [7:48AM] :

sorry we disappeared last night lads, spontaneous camping trip! also we’re dating now. have a great day :)

Eat Sand [7:49AM] :

wait...you weren’t already dating???

bloody hell my life is a lie

leon why’ve you been lying to me

Champion Time Snr [7:53AM] :

this is news to me mate i thought they’d been dating since they started the gym challenge

Croon Toondra [7:54AM] :

WHAT?!?

....you’re havin a laff right

Eat Sand [7:54AM] :

no lee really said he thought hop was your boyf

Croon Toondra [7:55AM] :

canny believe ye lee

thought we were friends

Champion Time Snr [7:55AM] :

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mermaid [7:58AM] :

honestly i agree w/ the boys i thought you were bf + gf for ages

sonia said you were

she can’t defend herself rn she’s still passed out hungover so

Big Tiddy Goth GF [8:00AM] :

bout time innit

felt like reality tv at this point

congrats tho took you ages

Flame Dad(dy) [8:03AM] :

Congratulations, although I have to say I was also under the impression you had been together since the Gym Challenge.

Wooloolooloo [8:04AM] :

Same here! You two are right cute though so congrats :)

Kung Fu Fighting [8:07AM] :

yeah rai told most of us that lee told him ages ago so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ good job anyway you cute

Rocky Horror [8:10AM] :

think we can all just agree someone was wrong and we’ll leave it there

that someone was lee but we’ll ignore that

reckon he’s just tryin to get us off his back about him and rai ;)

Champion Time Snr [8:11AM] :

thanks everyone appreciate it

also gordie please shut up

Hippity Hop [8:12AM] :

I forgive you lee!

at least for the sake of this group chat >:)

Big Tiddy Goth GF [8:14AM] :

get him hop it’ll be funny

lee watch out bruv

also you’re literally as bad as the kids with your feelings it’s disgusting

Baby Goth [8:15AM] :

Ignoring piers i’m happy for you two :D

Also thought it was a thing but that’s coz it just seemed like you were

No one actual said anythin to me

Croon Toondra [8:17AM] :

love ye all but i’m also fookin over ye dkjafhf

lee just go sulk and cuddle your boyf

Eat Sand [8:18AM] :

who’s lee’s boyf???? >:(

oh wait i see

fml

#postwickshipping #hpyu #raileon #truerivalshipping #pokemon hop #pokemon gloria #pokemon piers #pokemon leon #pokemon raihan #pokemon swsh #pokemon #may writes

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philalethistry · 4 years

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WELP my birthday month was a bit of a rollercoaster ride. I thought about the cons of posting this but I’d like to record it, so that future me can look back and, depending on how the future goes, either feel validated or be glad that this is over. Warning: discussion of crappy mental health.

TL;DR Breakdown results in will to live and fuck current events I have a recliner

I’m going to start with today, Sept. 1, and work back, for reasons.

Today I drove to a furniture thrift store. This doesn’t sound like much, but I A. hate driving, especially to new places, B. am already in a pretty anxious state, and C. I got lost because the road I wanted to turn on wasn’t marked, nor looked like a road rather than an alley, and so I somehow spent two hours trying to find one store. (At one point I had to stop and get something to eat because I had started shaking. The cashier watched me struggle to free two bills from my wallet and then declined the change I owed her to avoid making me retrieve that too. I wonder if she thought I was high...)

The important thing about what I did today, is I went out to find the store, and even when I did not find the store and ended up circling back to my street, instead of going home and having a sandwich and watching Youtube, I turned around again. I know it’s partially because of this video’s explanation of why one gets more nervous trying to do something a second time after procrastinating or running away from it, as I’d always pin the anxiety on my guilt, instead of a fear instinct which is more managable. But I’m going to give dopamine where dopamine is due and also say that my eventual victory was partially because of the newfound strength I have in the aftermath of the freak mental storm that enveloped the start of August.

I know that no one is doing “””okay””” right now, because of Everything, and that is nicely validating, because I am not okay either. But it’s dissonant, because I’d often follow the lead of neurotypicals and high-functioning depressives and anxious people when I’m in a bad way. If THEY say things aren’t as hopeless as I think they are, they probably aren’t! While that helped, it also downplayed my brain issues, and now that everyone has the same opinions on the State of Things, I realized I didn’t have any idea of how to confront the bad shit on my own, and neither does anyone else.

I’m technically still quarantining by refraining from making a lot of trips out and from getting a job, and so the murky pea-soup fogs of the future unsettle me. I was pretty chipper for the larger part of quarantine, as an introvert. Then one day, the thought suddenly occurred to me of the sheer amount of time I’ve spent in quarantine, how COVID isn’t receding from Arizona, how I had to quit the first job I’d gotten in the face of anxiety and depression, of how much of my future rests on the coming election, and most of all of how I have no idea what my future holds, of where I’ll be five or ten years down the line. “In the same place” and “Somewhere else” seem equally intimidating.

And then hormones struck.

I’ve had bad depressive episodes; I’ve had bad days of anxiety; I’ve had bad PMS; and then I’ve simply indulged unhealthy negativity. All of these, combined, made for a surreal and frightening experience. Emphasis on surreal. Also, contextually, emphasis on frightening, obviously. There were many feelings. Emphasis on everything.

My mental space may be a mess but I’ve never been too concerned with dwelling on life and death, even when faced with the latter. It’s never been a point of any interest to me; in the face of mortality I’m pretty good at giving importance to the present moment and to my internal values, like “science cool,” “mocha good” and “drawing fun.” In fact since childhood (third grade. Is this a normal third grader thing??) I’ve been a fan of cheerful nihilism, IE “There isn’t a secret meaning to the universe therefore I can give it any meaning I can make! Anything is possible, things are great!” I didn’t really grasp the concept behind existential dread, it sounded like something that happened to movie characters when the writers didn’t know how else to portray angst. Oh boy, do I have a new emotion I won’t be able to forget. My natural disaster of a brain supplied me, among everything I was already experiencing, three (3!!!) different categories of existential crisis. I had to look it up. And the weird thing about this Satan’s asscrack of an episode, is that while I’m prone to spiraling rumination, normally I can distract myself, because it’s still just me, thinking unhelpful thoughts. This time, these thoughts, the shittiest thoughts I’ve ever had the displeasure of producing, were automatic. I was not getting stuck pondering one bad topic; everything I saw became, in real time, entangled in the web of thought pattern in the most natural way. And it was LOUD.

Have you ever thought, “I’ll sit on the couch, the couch is comfy. The couch did not exist until a few years ago, its lack of existence had no impact on anything in any meaningful way, and when it turns to dust it will be forgotten.” Because I myself had a teensy bit of an inkling that maybe that ain’t normal. The thing is, I knew I was only feeling this way because, well, I Was Feeling That Way, it’s just the mood; but being stuck in isolation, and with everyone else also troubled by issues of the past, the present and the future, knowing that didn’t help.

I can remain in a depressive / anxious state for a little while, but the actual peaks only last at most a couple of hours. This was Mt. Everrest AND it lasted a week and a half. I was at the end of my rope a day in and had no idea what to do about it, so I tried to do everything. The physical present felt empty, so I tried to fill it with media, literature, art, walks, family time. Problem is, “anhedonia” - a symptom of depression where you don’t get dopamine boosts from activities - cuts pleasure out of these things, so nothing held my interest, let alone made me feel motivated or remotely better. Another symptom of depression, weirdly enough, is the feeling of disgust - I wasn’t conscious of this symptom until it was magnified. I felt completely and utterly repulsed by everything around me. I first thought it was the clutter, then the way the furniture was arranged, then I thought I’d been inside too long so I took walks in the neighborhood when nobody was out. The confusion came when I disliked the trees, grass, and fresh air too - I had to Google my feelings to find out what the heck was going on.

Which brings me to my bedroom. My room is littered with memorabalia, I’m sentimental so I have little shrines of items from the past and of things I value. Some childhood toys and a handful of old trinkets, shelves dedicated to Pokemon and Neil Gaiman’s work, some references to Chicago and Polish heritage. My unhappiness with the situations of the present, while strengthened to an totally unnecessary degree, weren’t all inaccurate - and in combination with anhedonia and disgust, and the way I’d integrated this memorabalia into my sense of self even though they aren’t really relevant to me anymore, I found that I really really didn’t like my past or reminders of it. In a shocking unpredicted turn of tables, I no longer wanted to uphold who I once was, because it isn’t who I am now, and it’s not who I want to be.

And the revulsion of the past and the uncertain emptiness of the present culminates in a future that I feared, another emotion booted up to eleven. There was a big need to make my future and remake myself. The only places left comfort could be found were ones I hadn’t yet looked. At the same time I became sad in a powerful but vague way and desperately lonely - this part was definitely all the feral hormones - and I became obsessed, for a little while, with making sure that, when quarantine ends, I would get my social life in order. I preemptively joined groups and clubs in my local area online, which I’m still going to make good on later but maybe not to the all-encompassing extent I had in my mind at the time. Also, career hunting. (Also also, to combat a lack of control, I wanted to get my own place - but with the economy like That, and my ass like This, big alone time while also being very poor and probably overworked is not the best of ideas.)

So. The freak episode ended. And I knew. Both during. And afterwards. That I Do Not Want That to Happen Again. To put it lightly. So now I’m trying to find an antidepressant that works for me. I’ve been medicated for three weeks now. Lower anxiety, not many mood swings, but still anhedonia, and the aftertaste of existential dread which will forever haunt me. I’m completely overhauling my bedroom, because it was messy anyway and has basically looked the same since forever which can’t be good for my mental health. So there’s going to be new bedsheets (chocolate), new curtains to kill sunlight because while I enjoy it outdoors it makes the room feel exposed since the window is groundlevel and faces the street, a whole ass recliner thrifted for only 20 bucks(!) to go in a brand new study corner along with a nice aggressively patterned brown rug, and finally the grody offwhite walls will be repainted a warm inviting brown that was named “spiced cinnamon.” No matter what happens, I look forward to spending the winter in the study, invoking a cozy comfort the Danes call “hygge,” and hopefully building my gallery or participating in my interests, including fandom, in another way. And, once my budget allows it, getting some fucking therapy, what the fuck.

#long post #weezy lost their mind for a little while #so that's where I been #but at least I have motivation now #funny how fear can lead to positive changes like that

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cosmosogler · 7 years

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today i mostly sat around. i did some chores to prepare for my party, and i brushed eve and wiley. diogi did not want to sit with us so i didn’t brush her. i’ll try to offer again tomorrow. i can never tell if wiley is actually enjoying being brushed or not because his fur is so matted now it’s gotta be painful when i accidentally hit a knot.

i was actually really upset that the registration for the next pokemon competition is already closed. two days into the nine-day registration period. i’ll see if it was a server glitch or something and check again tomorrow... i worked really hard on this team and i love doing the competitions even though i’m not the best battler.

last night i dreamed i was playing hide and seek with my brother and the other two stooges. we were in a huge convention sort of complex connected to a skyscraper mall. i managed to give them the slip, got a single room at the hotel, and rode up the terrifying elevator by actually reading my room key long enough to figure out what the numbers were. but when i actually got to the eighth floor the boys were already there waiting for me. so i ran out to a terrace and flew away to a more crowded area. i kinda knew already that everyone on that island was trapped there involuntarily, and there was no way to leave, but at that point i didn’t care. i really didn’t want to be found. the rest of the dream was spent mostly just going through the motions with this new community. not being able to change anything or save anyone, just following directions i guess. i wasn’t found.

i got distracted reading a geek feminism wiki for like the last two hours. i’m not very hopeful about the future... especially not in a “hard science” stem field. i mean, i already ran into a hard brick wall with regards to “being a female in a male dominated place” and i hadn’t even finished two years of UNDERGRAD yet! what am i going to run into at the professional level? how am i ever going to get a job as just an average student? if you’re a woman, especially in these fields, you have to be WAY BETTER than men to be considered anywhere near as good as them. and even then you’re still at a disadvantage at the hiring stage.

the train of thought that says “kill yourself” has been very prominent lately... the last few months, i mean.

i know it’s always all “you’re making a permanent solution to a temporary problem!!!” but... being physically a woman IS a permanent problem. that’s not gonna change. what am i supposed to do? lower my expectations? because that’s gotten me to such great places before. (craig was a low expectations sort of scenario.)

i didn’t have high hopes for grade school and that was, like, permanently emotionally scarring for me. i didn’t have high hopes for having “not awful” parents. i didn’t KNOW to have high expectations. that didn’t change the situation at all!

i’m just... gonna be swimming against the current until i die anyway. what’s the point of living if it’s not going to be any fun or any sort of fulfilling? why would you knock on the door when you know the person who opens it is going to shoot you in the face anyway?

does that make me weak? am i going to be weak my whole life? i’m probably going to be physically weak my whole life at least because of the heart defect. i’m a runt. even less opportunity to affect the world around me.

when the thing with dad happened, those few weeks ago, when i went to gramma, her comforting words were “you’ve always been more sensitive.” but when the thing happened, dad’s argument was “you don’t care about anything.” which is it, guys? pick one! you don’t get to have BOTH insults! why doesn’t anything make sense!!!!!!

like, i don’t care about anything, so dad gets to be a douche bag, but then when i DO care, i’m too sensitive??? what am i supposed to do with that information? where do i go from there????? how am i both things at once???????????

this is why it feels like there’s no escape. because i’m already everywhere. there’s nowhere i can go that i’m not already, and being there is bad anyway.

this is why i need other (preferably reasonable) people to tell me what i am. because i’m EVERYTHING. and that doesn’t make sense.

nothing means anything. being alive is weird. experiencing things is weird. looking through my eyes feels foreign and unpracticed. feeling emotions is like “what is THAT doing here.” it’s surprising how few things matter at all. but it’s surprising when things DO matter, so i’m just always surprised i guess. the infinite nothing that happens in my head for ages all day is horrible but somehow being dead is supposed to be better i guess? it’s weird how your brain points at “not existing” as a better state of being when that’s not guaranteed at all. it’s impossible to guarantee.

what happens to all that information when you die? what happens to everything that happened? do the atoms remember where they were? is it like wiping a hard drive? the hard drive is still there, of course, but all the memories, all the information is gone. i thought black holes were the only things that truly, irreversibly destroy information. discounting hawking radiation i guess? i don’t know how that works to be honest.

is that what entropy is? the possibilities growing and growing until where “you” were is impossible to find out any more?

like, being alive is an experience, something that happens in the present moment. but what we are is mostly made up of what we did, where we were, what we saw. the present is only possible because of the past or something. what happens to the past when the present happens? i mean, it’s gone forever, but it still happened. the information still exists. it’s in you. so where does it go when you come apart?

i guess that’s the kind of question that doesn’t really have an answer. it’s like standing on the cliff and looking into the murky water and your joints lock up. except there’s no one in the water to tell you where to jump to land safely, and no one’s ever been in that water before.

my graduation party is tomorrow. i still feel like i haven’t really graduated or accomplished anything. acknowledging the party is like... accepting that i achieved something i didn’t really deserve. that’s what makes it hard to think about. that’s why it’s so hard to invite people to attend. come look at what i didn’t do! congratulate me for my improbable lie!! put your faith in me. i will do great things in the future. things are looking bright!!!

#tw suicide #not feeling great #but not feeling especially awful #the proximity to moving day is making me anxious

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valgee · 7 years

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416 Cigarettes

I walked out of that job; the second job I’ve flat fuckin walked away from because a corporate promotion was a way to get paid more to do more to get paid less to still do more. This aligned causally with an actual factual divorce, my own, I was spiraling down the familiar avenues of self-destruction and loathing in Las Vivas.

I found inspiration in an old flame. She messaged me sweet music and abruptly left the conversation when I hollowly expounded on my future plans to move away with my spouse. The declaration felt empty; I realized that she in my shoes wouldn’t continue to be unhappy. That was the genesis of my resolve.

My grandmother was in the hospital again; my dad made it sound quite dire. I resolved to visit and then never return home once I was on the open road. Ocean Springs had become a broiling cesspot of bad emotions and confusion infused negativity. The literal plan was to drive forever, see every friend on the planet, run out of gas, and fling myself off the nearest bridge. What actually happened was 20 days of pure unadulterated traveling and freedom, 65 hours of road time, and 4,242 more lodged into my personal mileage.

The first stop was Obligation, I visited my ailing grandma who was more assailed by a macabre atmosphere centered around her inevitable death that she would prefer not to be constantly reminded of. It was my between my father and my Aunt Mae to take care of her, as her third and youngest child had eschewed responsibility in the wake of my grandfather’s death, who had been paying her to take care of grandma and “When mama dies, that’s when we’ll get the real money.” The iceberg of disgust was rearing from an ocean of contempt when my cousin and Aunt Mae addressed me sincere, for the first time, about my relationship with my father, or the lack thereof. In my two decades of visiting there, it had never been explicitly stated by any member of the family, at least not direct to me or my sister, about how my father had fought in court for partial custody, two weeks every summer, except we went for two months because it was a full half of our family. My sister and I never saw our dad during those two months, save for a few days at the beginning and end. Vindication was the sensation of Obligation, a rider to the discomfort so fine; we were all discovering the darker natures of each other amidst the cloud of deaths future and past. I found mine in a father estranged yet so much like myself, I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to become him. I was an excuse to escape his own Obligation, time spent with offspring was a rare chance. The irony was lost on him, that it was so rare of his own volition, and now sought rabidly as a superior solution to fomenting his mother’s wasting away with his candid appeals to activity that she sloughed off for the dishonesty it was. I sloughed off him, too, and escaped to my next destination after a terse visit.

I ran out of gas in Ohio. I trekked a mile to the nearest gas station that did not sell gas cans. In the adjoining Subway, in the bathroom, I made a friend who only came there to piss, as he told me, and I, too, came there to piss, but also pick grass out of my socks, accrued from the highwayside walkabout. As I set out to the next gas station, the bathroom man offered me a ride, promising me he had nothing but time. I acquired my can, I acquired my gas and he extended his offer to drive me to my car. On the ride over, he told me his entire fuckin life story. He was a drug dealer from the podunk town in Ohio I was now in, he’d gone to Miama (Ohio) one weekend and come back with a kid, can you fuckin believe it, my baby mama only ever calls to fight or fuck and my girlfriend, who I’m livin with, hates that, you know? But Iunno, I’ll go over there and lay a line of coke down and she’ll, like, bend over, and rip it and back that ass up, she’s got a nice ass, you know? My girlfriend does, too, they got nice asses, Iunno. See, I like you, I can tell you anything and you don’t know shit, you don’t fuckin know anyone.

The second stop was Liberation, my dear friends Parla and Kelly in the Windy city I love. I rediscovered my Air element in the playful streets and inviting sunshine; this would be the last time I brought nice weather with me. I found Parla in a trend of bashful but passionate feminism but I was not yet shook of my tangled brain to connect with her genuinely, but I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to qualify her validity to me, to me. She taught me macrame on a heated roof, we let strings dance in the wind. We laughed together in sopored stupor. I met her downstairs convenience bang, he brought me to his brazilian jujitsu class and I flattened myself for the experience. At first, he seemed threatened by me; he couldn’t fathom a masculine presenting presence having a dual platonic relationship with two attractive feminine presenting entities. He thought I had to banging one of ‘em. I couldn’t just be being friends. But we do. We are. I love them. We broed out with the irony lost on him; I struggle to relate my newfound gender identity to new people. I struggle to relate it to old friends who knew me before I knew me, but I felt as accepted as I ever was with them. Kelly came to me, drunker than she’d ever been, and cried in my lap. I wasn’t sure why she was upset, she couldn’t seem to articulate it or anything else, but I helped her into bed, glad I could be there for her. I may have overstayed my welcome, squatting in the daybed for a week, but I love that city. I reconnected with Roni and they gave me my highest highs, and my lowest lows, journeying to the highrise dance parties, and the basement bar belows. I left Chicago only with the promise of my closest friend to see next, my Water.

The third stop was Reconfiguration, I reconvened with the squidlord, TJ, and he opened his home to me fully and I could feel my soul reaching exponential bouts of healing here. I walked the streets of Perkasie, Pennsylvania, and garnered strange looks for my queer appearance. I got lost but I enjoyed it. He played hooky and took me to NYC where we see the Times Square, we Tai Chi in Central Park, and he misses his girlfriend’s texts. I am reminded of the spouse I left and the passive aggression for my identical transgressions. I ate street food, I poured out my entire romantic history to him as he strummed his ukelele. I didn’t mean to keep it so secret; our time together in college lent to a dual lifestyle: romantic and social were separate. I don’t know that he understands more now, but he knows more now; water struggles to perfectly reflect the shape and source of fire. Since the beginning of my trip, I had struggled with my break-up. In Chicago I had made peace, in Perkasie I found it. TJ, ever the empath, skirted the topic of suicide, and renewed his disdain for the exit. We listened to Listener, their newer work topical. I wanted him to reinvite me to live with him, but he didn’t. I left for my next destination, between NC and Chicago, my oldest internet friends implored me to visit, and given the week between opportunities to link up, I had gone to Perkasie. So, I carted off to Fort Wayne, Indiana.

My fourth destination was Sublimation, the subtlety, the transcendent, the phase change. I showed up late, and was greeted with first a soft intensity inside eyes. I descended into their basement and ensconced my weird ass in their wonderful family. Soothing cold fingers lightly brushed my heated skin as I imbibed the alcohol I’m super allergic to, to catch up with everyone else. I remember dancing, I remember thinking to be careful and respectful, she has a boyfriend, I remember dancing close enough to nudge once accidentally, and every subsequent wanton nudge was frivolously shameless. I don’t remember what happened next. I woke up, still drunk, and naked, in a bedroom I didn’t recognize. I regrouped and pissed and found my bearings, and she was there, her neck torn to shreds, a signature of mine reserved for my deepest drunken emotions. I haven’t done that to someone since I had my skeleton rended from my body, years ago. I didn’t remember, but the memory was there, buried in her earth, and I could feel it, and I do remember that next morning I spent digging for the memory with her again. And again and again. I almost made her late for work. I slept on the couch to shake off the drink and hangover, and awoke to dinner plans once she and her mother returned home from work. I was made conscious of my current unemployed status, and I wore the bruises she gave me on my neck defiantly. We talked about what happened without remorse. We flirted casually and lightly, hunting Pokemon with her family in their mammoth obsessed hometown. I tried to climb one at her behest, but I could feel my core trembling, my legs still weak. I had given her all of my fire. We returned home and made love again and again. There wasn’t single awkward silence in the immense amount of silence we shared, the intense longing eye contact we shared, the energy flowing between us that we shared. By this time, I had no money left to simultaneously feed myself and put gas in my car to make it home. I didn’t want to leave her, but I promised to return sooner than possible. I left with a heart beat I could hear again. I had forgotten what it was to fall in love with someone naturally and not try to force it for old times. My final destination was the only one planned before I left.

My fifth stop was Syncopation. My friend, Brandon, in Memphis, and his musical stylings. I arrived through the night, into the day, and met his improv friend on no sleep. I wrote for him in his journal, and he wrote for me. By this time I hadn’y paid my phone bill for a month and had no chance of doing so now. Without data, I couldn’t message Her without a wifi connection. It was a less than optimal situation; I feared giving the impression of nonchalance. Brandon played me a ballad, dedicated to me and my journey, and I rapped over it with an honest retelling of the Story So Far + Some Other Tangential Things. He lamented not recording it. I love things that live in moments. I spent one night and the next day. While he worked, I went with Shelby, his roommate, and also my old friend from college, to her place of work, the Memphis Zoo, where she got me in for free. I wandered the animals, and took in the sunshine. I saw a woman hit her head on a wall in the Nightmare room, but she was fine. I proceeded to get ultra lost in Memphis, and unable to connect to even Starbucks wifi. I navigated by touch and cavalier direction picking and arrived at his house. I was unable to access the inside, though a former lover of Shelby’s was sleeping off a hangover within. Brandon came home, let me in, and I played videogames and read until he came home. The ex eventually left, and Shelby broke down in tears, disgusted by the experience. The ex was an emotional vampire, and Shelby struggled to say no. She blamed herself for reasons she shouldn’t have, the ex took advantage of her and Brandon’s hospitality. I remember being good at the kind of honesty good here.. I felt for her, but I didn’t know yet how to show it again. I’m glad I could be there for her, though. I left that night and arrived in Ocean Springs, only falling asleep at the wheel 14 times. I crashed direct into my bed, a cool $0.14 over target to make it home, indicator on E, and slept for a long time.

Over the last two weeks, I’ve done nothing but pine for someone in Indiana, and my life on the road. By tomorrow, I’ll have both back, if the road only for a little while.

#me #journal #road trip

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