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So ordinarily I would put something like this on my Twitter, as that’s kind of turned into my personal vent/diary platform as of recent, but this is going to be much longer than Twitter can allow, and I need to write this all out without losing my train of thought. It’s gonna go behind a Read More, and I’d like to request that you only read it if we’ve been mutuals for a while, and only if you really want to. I’m not expecting any response, hell I don’t want any responses, I just need to put my thoughts down somewhere, and if I put it in a Google doc or something I’m gonna come back to it later and dwell on it, but if I just put it somewhere and immediately delete it, I’m not going to be able to talk to my therapist about it on Monday. Anyway, content warnings abound, as I’m gonna be talking about depression, anxiety, self-harm, suicide, covid-19, stalking, emotional abuse, and a pretty negative experience I had in a partial hospitalization program at a local mental institute. You’ve been warned. (Also for those of you who are new here, “ignore me” is my personal rant/vent tag, feel free to blacklist it to avoid seeing future posts like this)

So. Here’s a brief recap of the past year and a half in my life. Back in October of 2018, my best friend went through a very bad breakup with her emotionally abusive ex, while another of my friends was struggling very much with his mental health and attempted suicide. I was miserable working at Target and was gearing up to return to school in the Spring. I had also had feelings for the friend who went through the breakup, and she sort of had feelings for me, but she also had feelings for the other friend, and I had some vague kind-of feelings for the other friend as well, so in December we all decided “fuck it, let’s all date.” I won’t recap the full details of the relationship but it was a goddamn shitshow. His mental heath continued to deteriorate and he wasn’t seeking treatment for any of it, her mental health was extremely poor as well as a result of two years of emotional abuse and extreme codependency issues, and my mental health suffered greatly because of the expectations placed on me, as well as his frequent mood shifts where he would go from wanting to spend the rest of our lives together to, at one point, telling me things in an effort to get me to hurt or kill myself. Not a good situation by any measure. School was good, though, and the two classes I took last Spring were excellent, and I was ready to go back to school full-time in the Fall. Flash forward to September of 2019. My mental health is terrible, though my academics are very strong. I decide, after a few specific incidents, that I can’t be in the relationship with the both of them anymore and break up with him. A lot of bad things happened. She ended up leaving him as well. Then, about a month later, she left me as well and moved out of the state with someone she had met on OKCupid only a few weeks prior. At this point I need to take a medical leave of absence from school and move back in with my parents because I’m so depressed and traumatized that I can barely function. You see, since breaking up with him, he had been harassing me, even after I had attempted to get the police involved. He would call me, text me, make new Facebook accounts to send me message requests, anything to try to get in touch with me. So with all of this happening, and with me basically unable to do anything, I decide to look into a partial hospitalization program at a mental institution not far from where I live. Insurance covered most of it, my parents said they’d pay for the rest, so I started the program in early November. Ordinarily it’s only a three or four week program. I was there for at least 5. It was essentially a day program, so I would be there from 9 to 3 every day Monday to Friday. It was a really great program, except for a few things. Firstly, because it was a program both for mental health and addiction, a lot of the programming wasn’t really applicable to me, as the only thing that I’m addicted to is sugar, and I have no plans to break that habit. There’s a history of temporary psychosis caused by mind-altering substances in my family, and I don’t want to even find out if it applies to me as well. I barely even drink. So anyway, I was one of maybe three people who was there exclusively for mental health, so my options for programming were a bit limited, until a bunch of us complained about the repetitiveness of that aspect of the program and they switched things up a bit. Unfortunately it was at the tail end of my time in the program, so I didn’t exactly get much benefit from that. Secondly, and more importantly, close to the end of my time in the program, one of the mental health workers, a pre-doctoral intern who was running most of the “classes” that I was in, said a few things to me that were really frustrating and upsetting. Firstly she said that “ADHD doesn’t exist, it’s just a reaction to trauma. Too many kids are getting diagnosed with it when they just have regular attention issues, and in adults a diagnosis is almost always accompanied with trauma. And of course people are going to perform better when they’re on a stimulant.” Which. Is wrong on so many accounts. First of all, it’s overdiagnosed in the wrong people and massively underdiagnosed in the people who actually have it, especially young girls. And secondly, of course it’s paired with trauma when adults are diagnosed with it. They’ve had to deal with it for their entire lives up until then without knowing why they couldn’t do things the same way as everyone else, and there’s also a lot of trauma in general that comes with having ADHD considering how many people say “Oh, you’re just not trying hard enough” or “You’re just making excuses,” not to mention the self esteem issues that come with it. And thirdly, yeah people will perform better when on stimulants, but does taking a stimulant make everyone else tired? Cuz it does for me because it lets me slow down my brain enough to actually sleep. So yeah, that was fucked up. But the second thing she said was probably worse, and it didn’t actually occur to me how much this impacted me until earlier today when I realized something, but I’ll get to that realization soon. So it’s my second-to-last day in the program. I had gotten almost no sleep the previous night because I had a massive panic attack right before bed because my asswipe ex messaged me some really fucked up stuff. So I’m way out of it, and my ability to concentrate is pretty shit. I’m doing my best, though, and I’m paying attention to the discussion. We were talking about the parts of the brain and how they’re impacted by trauma. There were a few times during that day where I had forgotten words but still knew what I was talking about, and at least one of them had happened in front of this woman. So she asks “Does anybody know what the part of the brain is that connects the two hemispheres?” I say “Oh, I do” cuz I do know what it is, but for the life of me I can’t remember what the name is. (It’s the corpus callosum.) So she looks at me and says, out loud, in front of the entire group, “You know, it’s okay if we don’t know everything.” So I get all flustered and embarrassed and mad at myself because, in my ADHD people-pleaser brain, the teacher just failed me in front of the whole class and now they all hate me. So I don’t say a goddamn word for the rest of the day, and the next day I leave without saying goodbye to that one woman, after leaving a glowing review in the exit survey. So the thing about this that’s really fucked up is that like two days before, I sat down with her and told her how I have a lot of specific trauma around rejection and failure, especially relating to my dad and how he constantly asserts that I don’t try hard enough or that I need to do better, shit like that. Like, that was a major theme with me the whole time I was in the program. It was like, getting over the intense rejection of my best friend/girlfriend running away with a guy she just met, and my relationship with my dad. That was it. (Of the two, the one there that’s still a major thing in my life is my relationship with my dad. At this point, she can fuck off with whoever she wants. I’m more pissed at her than anything else now.) So for her to turn around and embarrass me in front of the entire group like that, when there was solid evidence that a) I did know what I was talking about and b) I was having a very off day was really messed up. In thinking about it, there was quite a few messed up things that she did in the last week or so that I was there. Probably more during the rest of my time there but I don’t actually remember most of it because working on your trauma can be traumatizing itself, go figure. Anyway, I had almost completely forgotten about that until earlier today when I was thinking about how I was getting much more sensitive to rejection and perceived failure recently than I was before all this had happened. Part of it is probably my increased estrogen dose fucking with my mood, but the majority of it, I think, stems from that one incident of her pretty much violating my trust and invalidating me in front of like twelve people that I really trusted and felt close with. Fucked me up, yo. Anyway, so I leave the program and start working for my dad at his machine shop. Things are going super well, I’m making a fair bit of money, keeping in touch with my friends as best I can, and doing my best to avoid my ex harassing me further. About midway through December I change my phone number so that he’ll stop calling me (he had several ways to get around me blocking his number), and in the middle of February I change my name on Facebook so he won’t be able to find me and send me more message requests, cuz there’s no way to stop that from happening either, and the police were useless because “I wasn’t in any physical danger.” At this point he had moved away from my town, presumably back with his parents but I don’t really know, and I really don’t care. So he messages my siblings on Facebook trying to get my phone number, and then somehow finds my Facebook again and sends me a picture of him cutting his wrist. So I get fed up, go to a local domestic violence prevention nonprofit, talk with one of their advocates, and file a restraining order against him. It gets approved, and the messages stop. A court date is set for us both to meet with a judge to discuss everything and see if it needs to stay in place or not or whatever, and for about 2 weeks everything is great. Then covid-19 starts hitting. I get what was probably just the flu or a cold or whatever a few days before the court date. Then the state that I live in announces that most court hearings are postponed until mid-April. I check on the website and find that stalking and domestic violence, among a few others, are exempt from this and will be going on as scheduled. Because I was recently sick, I call the courts the day before and ask if I can appear over the phone. They say yes, it’s all good, great. So the next morning I call in and things get moving. It turns out that my ex didn’t show up to the hearing, even though he definitely knew about it. So I talk with the judge for a few minutes and we decide that I don’t need the restraining order anymore because he’s not likely to start harassing me again, and if he does I can always get a new one or get the police involved. And so far I haven’t heard a peep from him so I’m assuming that chapter of my life is closed for good, which is excellent. But then more things start to close down, and my dad basically tells me that he doesn’t really need me at work and it’s best if I stay home. So since then I’ve been staying at home. It’s been 15 days total that I’ve been home, with only minimal trips to work for an hour here and there. And I really don’t do well with isolation. It’s not all bad, because I live with my parents, so I have some social contact, but as was mentioned above I don’t exactly get along with my dad, I don’t have a lot in common with my stepmom, and my grandmother is a grumpy old lady who isn’t very good for conversations about much else than knitting and Jeopardy. I’ve been doing my best to stay in touch with folks online, and it’s been decent, but it’s still pretty rough. And when Animal Crossing came out and all of my friends started playing it, I started feeling even worse because I’m poor as shit and don’t even have a Switch, and they’re fucking $400, which is a whole student loan payment for me. So I’ve been pretty miserable the past two weeks. To top it all off, I have to register for Fall classes next week, and I don’t think I can even imagine that far into the future right now. The world is supremely fucked, and there’s almost no way that I’ll even be able to afford to go back to school. I’ll probably have to drop out entirely. For at least a few years. And I’m really not ready to give up on school right now. Like I said above, I’m really sensitive to failure, and this is the third time I’ve tried, and failed, at college. And I’m getting real frustrated about it. The first time it was my ADHD, which at the time was undiagnosed. The second time it was mental health and my asshole ex harassing me. Now, when I finally have my ducks in a row, it’s money. The one thing that no amount of treatment or medication or court hearings will change. Plus there’s all the political bullshit going on still, and the impending collapse of society as we know it, and any number of other global crises (yes, that is the proper plural of crisis) going on. Oh, did I mention I’m an empath and the moods and emotions of the people around me, and of the world in general, pretty heavily impact me? I’ve been able to tell when some massive tragedy occurred even before the news story breaks. So yeah, all in all I’m doing about the worst I’ve been doing since high school before I was on antidepressants, and it’s really hard to see any end to this tunnel. I know I’m one in several hundred million people who are struggling right now, and I’m lucky that I’m at least moderately healthy with a steady place to stay and things to eat, but goddamn if things aren’t shit for me right now. Like I said, I’m not looking for any kind of response, and if you even read all of this I’m legitimately surprised. I just needed to put this all down somewhere because keeping it in is getting to be almost too much.

Don’t worry, friends. I promise you I’m safe. I’m just scared, lonely, and really lost right now.

I love you all.

The Night That Changed Everything

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: Implied character death, suspected cheating, breakup, hospital setting

Summary: If only you had known, if only hadn’t jumped to conclusions...

I wish I could feel his touch again, it’s all my fault that he isn’t here with me anymore. I should’ve picked up the phone. He kept calling and texting me, I ignored.

I shouldn’t have let him leave in the state that he was in. I yelled at him, called him out of his name, and kicked him out. I should’ve let him stay the night and just made him sleep on the couch.

Now I can’t even hear his voice again. I smelled the alcohol on his body yet I still let him drive. There is no one to blame but myself. He told me he didn’t do it anyway. Why did I let my own perception get in the way of the truth?

Now because of me his family can never see him again. As soon as he left I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach but I just brushed it off. I wish that I wouldn’t have brushed it off. I should’ve called him and told him to come back and just stay until the morning.

I could still vividly remember last night's events, I’d texted Yoongi and told him that I wanted to break up with him after seeing blogs reporting that he was spotted with another girl earlier in the day.

The blog said that they were on “couples watch” and I got jealous that he was out with another girl, I wanted the world to know that he had a girlfriend but Yoongi didn’t want me getting attacked by his fans so he wanted to keep our relationship away from the public.

He replied saying that it wasn’t what I thought it was and that the blogs were making it seem like more than what it actually was. He’d said that he’d just went to lunch with a client and she got a bit touchy but he in no way returned the gestures and asked her to stop after she went too far.

I didn’t believe him and I told him that I didn’t care and it was over so he did have to contact me in the future. I thought that after that since he didn’t reply once he realized I wasn’t going to answer again that it was over.

About thirty minutes later a drunk Yoongi appeared at my door, he wasn’t sloppily drunk but I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He pleaded for me to believe him and to give him another chance.

I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I was hurt and angry so I cursed and screamed at him and he just let me do it. Even though I was acting insane yelling and hitting him he stood there and took it.

He didn’t call me names back or even attempt to stop me from hitting him. He took it and pleaded for me to forgive him. He wasn’t mad that I was acting irrationally but that I wasn’t giving him a chance to make things right.

Once I finally calmed down a bit he pleaded his case but I still wasn’t having it so with a cold attitude I told him that he no longer meant anything to me. That’s when I saw his eyes swell up with tears.

I’d known I hurt his feelings and that now he’d leave so I kicked him out. He left sobbing, I thought that he would just go home and we’d both get some time to ourselves.

This wasn’t the first time that I’ve gotten jealous and started an argument. It was never this bad before though and I’d never broken up with him before.

We’d been together for five years now and this was the worst argument that we’ve had during the entire duration of our relationship.

I went to sleep that night with a heavy heart and tried to just forget about the argument. Even though I was still angry about what I’d read I was going to contact Yoongi in the morning and make sure that he’d gotten home safely.

I woke up a few hours later from my sleep to several texts from Yoongi’s parents and brother. They were telling me that I needed to get the the hospital as soon as I could.

I was confused but I immediately found my jacket and some shoes and rushed out of my house and headed to the hospital that Yoongi was being cared for at.

I didn’t know what they wanted me at the hospital for but I didn’t have a good feeling about it and I knew it couldn’t be good.

When I got to the hospital I saw his parents and brother in the waiting room. His father was consoling his mom. I knew this had something to do with Yoongi but I was still confused.

I went over to his family and his brother hugged me. He looked tired, like he’d been crying. “Y/n, Yoongi got into an accident.” His brother said between sniffles.

I was shocked, I knew I shouldn’t have kicked him out, I should’ve called him and made him come back. “Is he going to be okay?” I said as my eyes started to swell with tears.

“The doctors said that he’s in critical condition, they’re doing all they can to save him but they said things aren’t looking good.” He looked at me while talking, he looked like he’d also been crying for a while.

“How did he get into an accident?” I wasn’t sure if now was the right time for me to ask but I was hoping that it wasn’t Yoongi’s fault. “He was hit by a truck, doctors said that he went into shock so he was unresponsive but still breathing so there’s a slight chance that they could save him.” His brother was drained telling me what doctors had told him.

By now I could feel the tears rushing down my face just like they’d been on Yoongi hours prior to now. “Are we allowed to see him?” I asked his brother. “Yes we saw him shortly after he came out of surgery. He’s responsive but very weak and doctors said there’s still a chance that we’ll lose him.” I could tell he was sad saying this.

I’d went up to the front desk and asked for his room number and the front desk lady gave it to me. As I walked to his room I didn’t know how to feel. When I got to his room I almost didn’t want to go in but I peeked through the window and saw that his eyes were open.

I walked into his room and went over to him, there was a chair next to his bed so I sat down. I felt so bad about the argument. I felt like this was all my fault. If I’d never texted him he would’ve never left his house.

While crying I spoke to him. “Yoongi, I’m sorry that I took everything out of proportion. If you make it past this we can work it out and go back to the way things were. I promise.” He was looking at me and closed his eyes.

I thought this was it but I saw that he was still breathing. As I reached over him to press the button for doctors to come he weakly grabbed my arm. He pointed at his jacket that was on the window sill in the corner.

I asked him if he wanted me to get it and he lightly squeezed my hand so I took it as a yes. I went to grab his jacket and came back to him, he pointed to his pocket. Inside there was a ring and a note.

The note had my name on it, I realized that he planned to propose to me. By now I was balling my eyes out. I gave him a kiss and thanked him. He gave me one last squeeze and I saw him take his last breath. I pressed the help button and screamed for doctors to come help him.

They rushed in and I had to leave, I sat outside of his room and cried. I held the note and ring close to me while I was sobbing.

I can’t believe I did this and he planned on marrying me. I can’t believe that he would’ve been okay if it wasn’t for me. This was all my fault and there was nothing I could do to fix it.

I lost the love of my life over a stupid blog and now I’d have to attend his funeral knowing that this was all my fault.