you were raised in comparison.
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.
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At least she's confessing she takes handfuls of mhi pills now. Instead of pretending she's okiedokie it's just ADHD. Now if only she would look at that, then look at the last pinned post and her playlist, then look at reality, then let me go. So here we go trying again, condensed.
Yo, crazy lady with the handful of pills who's inner self she keeps disassociating so she can ride my dick and have zero accountability, that inner logic brain self told her to go to therapy. Read it again.
Whether or not you accept it, that is reality and the core of your problems. Every fundamental you think of Hermes, was just me understanding myself THROUGH Hermes because I was actually following his path, and you leaned it all on me.
That is LITERALLY there due to your attachment to the way our characters met in roleplay, that is the only reason it is there. End of fucking story. Remember my name, you goddamn know it.
Now you're gonna get mark and your other misled pals all the way off.
If you want to try to learn Hermes, that's fine, but you gotta learn HIM, not me. Khaire has a beautiful, unique, but appropriate playlist. Yours is a mess of old albums I all referenced, it is literally my old vibe list, again.
Giiiiirl. Girl it should not be so hard to dump you that I've made a bootstrap paradox trying to get the fuck rid of you. Why the fuck are you acting this brain damaged, I don't know how many pills you have to take on a day, you posted your playlist with some accidental prompt lucidity, thinking you were being annoying, only to give me your heartsong key and show it's... still fuckin mine, mostly.
YOU WANT TO FOLLOW HERMES, THEN FOLLOW HERMES, NOT A SHADOW OF ME YOU'VE GRAFTED YOUR UNDERSTANDING TO. HE WAS LITERALLY MY WRITTEN SHADOW PROCESSING BLOC GIRL.
Your ENTIRE UNDERSTANDING of him comes from trying to shortcut across my own path and my own identity, and "Secrets" being so high on your list only to descend into the rest literally quantifies that. Maam every moment wasn't divine inspiration, it was my own soul trying to find who it was in this life, as it is for everyone, if they listen. And you ran off with that, because you refused any of the work that wasn't roleplay romance or disassociative channeling for attention. And you're still refusing the work now, just coasting on the easy parts!
If you realize you've been on the wrong path YOU HAVE TO GO BACK TO WHERE YOU FUCKED UP, not JUST KEEP WALKING
ATHENA IS SCREAMING BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO BUSY CHASING ME TO LET HER OUT. Therapy is just guided shadow work, hence me working in crisis counseling. Whether people call it that or know the mystic face or not isn't the point, it's the same fucking thing. your Logic Brain is telling you to go to therapy because she's trapped in that Giant Screaming Lady but is among your more accessible levels, maybe Artemis too. She can't fix it, because you won't let her. Your Logic Brain told you to go to therapy so you stop intentionally confusing yourself with my Chaos Brain, which is in fact a different brain, and mine, not yours.
That's why Athena told you to go to fucking therapy. Because she can't help you, because you won't help you, and you won't help each other until you face this very basic truth.
What's got you fucked up is accepting you thought you dumped one of the few Magi that can on command pull off his mask and be him, all of him, everything all at once and everywhere, but also still maintain being myself. And man, that SUCKS for you to have picked a fight with. Or stalked or gotten confused. Or been highly offensive to the ssnakes in the sservice indusstry and the manager. Something about blackscreening from a hidden screen you were thinking about a lot. I have an eight page doc of notes called "stole it from the supervisor, not sorry about it."
Yo crazy lady in the wet bear suit with the handful of pills and the therapy because her inner logic brain can't anymore that's arguing with the 20x accredited psych worker and degreed Magus. Yeah you. Why do you think the song we met on, basically, is still in your playlist core, and all the albums I referenced. Lloth of the 10th in red that doesn't know why she got Boo'ed by the spider weilding Pan so vividly. Crazy lady. You.
Lady, you've been dumped by Coyote, and now you gotta set your shit straight with all the other people you've done fucked up and gotten locked on me. You wanna follow him you have to do more than copy me and other people's playlists or my old stories or designs or, literally, my old shadow processing bloc.
We're still fucking doing this? Is it the depth of the entanglement you've cursed your life to, or the embarrassment stopping you more now? Gonna give ALL our secrets away, sweet cheeks.
Some fucking things in life aren't about your motherfucking opinion or personal comfort, princess. Sometimes, we lose things, and sometimes we make mistakes, and those things can't be fixed and won't come back, and it's time to learn to process grief like a fucking adult and face reality, because this is it, this is reality. And you objectively refuse to actually go back and learn Hermes properly from the gate, you don't want to, you WANT to stay clung to me even when our ancestors are screaming, and athena is screaming, and your inner broken self is overall screaming, and I'm screaming, and you still won't fucking listen, let me go, or learn over right, you just keep doubling down on a path you fucking admitted was wrong without turning around.
I REGRET TO INFORM YOU IT TAKES MORE THAN CHANGING YOUR BLOG TITLE TO CHANGE YOUR PATH.
This shit is literally my experience with you harassing me at any possible angle for the last three years since our breakup, begging for my motherfucking attention, and maybe you hadn't noticed, there's a lot of Cat metaphors going on.
BUT UR NEW ICONS ARENT ALL RAINBOW HAIR. well yeah. I started basing them after my appearance at the time fused to the other elements. That and, Coyote was a fractal part of a whole. There was still Ash's mess and the rest to unpack. That, all of that, is me and my history and family and lineage and right, and you fucking have your own but you keep trying to ride on mine. Yeah there's a crazy disco lights rocker in here, but he's actually unified with an old gambler staring at you and squinting, woman. Hey. Hey Lady. Guess what it's all of them all at once, and that makes me. What's not clicking. Now fucking do yours. Now will you consider hopping off me long enough for sis to actually give you a hand?
Girl it's time to accept "Min" knew you were full of shit for at least a few years before we broke up. And was all but over you. But made you a series of promises, and intended to keep them, even if it was slowly killing me. And it still is, just largely and rapidly now. Because I/she/me/whatever you want to disassociate your ex lover to are still keeping that promise. You won't let us go, so we're still technically with you, so we're making it so you don't have to do the Work and are doing whatever you need to be provided for. You know, promise 3, getting you out, even if that's just Athena and a new installation for her that actually fucking functions. You not liking what that looks like is somewhere among a plethora of personal problems.
Big brain time Shea. Imagine if Ash and Coyote DNA digivolved as one anthropologically coherent legacy become personage and X-crossed into someone that used to call themselves Min, and then you managed to piss them the collective and him the singular off by being a veil of conscious and willful delusion fuckin stalking abusive llothian shadow cultist fucking up Athena, Artemis, and Selene all at once. Try that hat on, cocaine bear. Brian was always my chaos brain. Niekai was always your logic brain. Why are you fighting this.
Someone sure the fuck is in the giant shitbowl you keep trying to ignore happening. We've been in code blue for hours.
Huh wonder why this is.
I'd like my mask back. All the way. No halfs this time. Those are my air jordans, my songs, my works, my stories. Running from the octopus jibberish was just the first bandaid ripped off. Your castle of glass is going to break. The thing you're only a crack in. Funny. That song's not mine. But I, too, reflect energy.
Call me thee crustdaddy, honest papa lotus, the angels are laughing and saying be mushroom funny guy.
Fuckin sorry everybody I started going code red for a second there but switched tracks, we're good now.
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