Anyone know how to temporarily fix a skylight in a way that wont blow away? Day 3 of Extreme Thunderstorm Warning and our skylight (and everything holding it to the house, and like 20ft of exterior drainage pipes) was just blown clear off the roof, and shattered in the backyard. And now there's a 6'x3' hole in the roof; luckily over a bathtub, but it's pouring and blowing so hard that the whole bathroom is already soaked.
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Sometimes I forget that America has some of the most diverse extreme weather in the world because I’m just desensitized to it. We have hurricanes in the east and earthquakes in the west and blizzards in the north, with tornadoes and droughts and wildfires all through the middle. It’s crazy that anyone can even live here.
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thunderstorm! flash flood warning! extremely cool!
gonna ramble a bit about some (unrelated to thunderstorm) things. cw disordered eating, suicide, homophobia, scrupulosity
I have got to crawl out of this pit that is not my grave. My dad said something homophobic to me Thursday night and since then I've just been sitting in bed most of the time. I've been lonely to tears. Didn't go to church even though someone messaged to ask if I needed a ride because of rain. I think whatever brain junk I'm having is making me anxious about interacting with other people. I didn't get any food out of the kitchen at all yesterday because H was in the kitchen every time I checked. I just ate the snacks I keep in my room--they're far from a well balanced diet but I'm proud of myself for preparing for my food anxiety.
I attended a shared birthday dinner for H, H's brother, and myself tonight. I was not particularly sociable but I did okay. I had so much dread about it and then it was fine. I chose normal portions and finished the food on my plate and didn't start crying like I did yesterday when H asked me if I was going to eat lunch.
I think I'm afraid to be seen. I feel like I'm violating some unspoken boundary, like I'm going to reveal too much of myself and not be able to pull back.
There was a suicide in the corner of side B twitter that I follow. I feel broken for my community. I don't feel like I'm even in community. I'm just here, quietly feeling my grief.
I don't feel like I'm being honest about myself. I know this is my OCD talking but that doesn't make it stop. I don't feel like I can be friends with anyone because what if they knew what I'm hiding? I pull back. I get tired. I haven't been sending letters. I haven't been calling. I've lost most of my groups. I've stopped messaging people. I want it all so much but I get scared and that makes me tired.
If you love me, please love even a wretched and unlovely me. Please love a selfish and uncertain and weary me. I have so little to give and I'm trying not to loathe myself. Please love a doubtful and lonely me.
I promised myself that I'd rather make a mess of my life than die. I'd rather anger everyone, act recklessly, live irresponsibly and wildly and deal with the consequences if that's what it took to keep myself alive. And then I just stayed alive, and I stayed afraid of anger and coldness. Will I ever stop being afraid? Will I ever do it anyway, and will it ever get easy?'
It is courage for me to muddle through school and not make up my mind. It is courage for me to write letters and overthink and never send them. It is courage for me to lie in bed all day and cry myself to sleep. It is courage for me to go to a party and sit in awkward silence. It is courage for me to keep myself alive in whatever condition keeps myself alive.
I keep thinking that I don't know what I want or what I'm doing. Here's something I want: I want queer people to live. I want queer people to be loved regardless of whether they meet someone's standard of acceptable behavior. I want queer people to be happy. I want queer people to be valued members of their communities. I want queer people to have agency to choose the terms by which they practice their faiths.
Tomorrow is a new day. I'm going to speak kind words to myself. I'm going to make myself eat and do homework. I'm going to enjoy a cup of tea and pet H's dogs. I'm going to send emails and text messages. I'm going to call my parents. I'm going to message my friends--my friends are the people I choose to call my friends, and it's their business whether they choose to call me their friend. I'm going to love the only life I have, and I'll accept that it must eventually end but I'll treasure as much of it as I have. I will live. I will do my part to live.
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