#i am going to be so unsufferable for the next month or so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

garbage--account · 10 months

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Too much thoughts going on in my head...

Today, I had a mental breakdown, as it occurs more and more often to me nowadays.

Too much information, too much stress, too much work, too much deadline, too much heat, too much drama, too much people getting on my nerves, too much ....

Too much was going on in my head. So much that I couldn't even think or concentrate. As I had so much too do and so little time to proceed, i could literally feel anger and sadness in my throat and a sort of fever forming on my forehead. I knew I was at my ultimate limit. My job was asking me efficiency, knowledge, availability, reliability, but all I could respond was aggressivity, disdain, sarcasm and antisocial behaviour.

As i was reduced to tears in the bathroom, i suddenly realized that i will turn 24 this month. It made me feel pathetic. Childhood and teenagehood was long behing me, though here I am having a temper tantrum like those obnoxious spoiled kids that couldn't have candy from their moms, right in the middle of a supermarket.

People says we glow up when we get older, on every aspect. I glowed down, for sure. I am now definitly ten thousand worst that i was in my moodiest days of the rebellious phase. I can do better, i know i did better before. Younger me couldn't even care less about drama, toxic people, of what we could say about her, bad news that didn't concerned her : she was focused on her work, on her exams, on her friends, on her future. She always managed to have good results without mentally scaring herself and to do what brought to her joy. Now me is head first in the drama, stuck with unsufferable colleagues and boss, always more work to do, with no time and space to do it properly, blames everything and every mistake on others, on lack of time, on lack of justice, on lack of sleep, on lack of rest, she absolutly can't deal with criticism, she's borderline insane.

When too much is too much, i sometime wonder what happens if i die : Will they feel sorry to push me so far? Will it teach them a lesson the hardest way? Will they not do it again? Will my parents and friends hate them afterward? Will they even care? Does it hurt when you die? Do i get to really rest when i die? What would my funeral cost? Will dad and mom still stand after that? Will i get to do what i want somehow?

Thing is, i don't really want to die. I just think of death, not necessarily mine (even if i don't expect living that old), nor theirs. I just want a break, a pause, a really long pause, from everything. Somewhere, i don't know anymore where, i heard that those people with depression with suicidal thoughts often doesn't really want to die but just that everything stops, while they tryna get back on their feet.

I can relate with that, but i have no depression. I think i haven't. I don't really want to make sure. I can have dark and heavy thoughts one moment, and being the most silly, happy, lightheaded person ever the next. Most of the time, i am emotionless inside. I am not enough sad and desesperate to call myself depressed, but not enough well and balanced to say that i am ok.

There is so many reasons for me to be happy, or at least cheerful, yet i feel no satisfaction, no contentment. I have certainly enough days off to be rested and to have fun, yet i have no peace of mine, never. Even when i know there is nothing to do today, tomorrow and the day after, i still feel pressure. My family and friends thinks that i am just lazy when i wake up at ungodly hours. Truth is i woke several times : the first time i felt tired so i closed my eyes again, Second time it was to early to be out out bed and get bored, third time was the perfect time but i just wasn't feeling like doing anything and be with people yet, fourth time i got lost in my train of thoughts again, mind so heavy i couldn't even get up, fifth time i was masterbathing (not because i am corny, but just because), sixth time i was finally up 'cause had too pee. Despite this long ass beauty sleep, i find hazy and tired, my mind empty after my brain exhausted itszlf. I spend the rest of the day "napping" with open eyes on the couch.

I suspect something might be wrong in my head but am afraid to reach out at this point. When i tell at work that i cannot do anymore more than i do, they answer by "it's just a busy time", " it will be calmer next time", "we already help you on whatever we can", "we all have our problem". When i tell about this with the doctor, he answers "try to talk with your manager about this". When i tell my family and friends that i have it rough, they answer "me too lol", "could be worst", "why don't you leave then?". I feel like speaking to walls, sending me back my echo. How can I tell if something is wrong with me or the way i am treated if everybody seems fine with it? I feel like if i am actually reaching out a professional, i will be wasting their (and my) precious time. Do i even want to get help?

So i guess i have to assume that i am being just dramatic and just need to grow up ... finding a way to find my own peace of mind, discovering who i am by myself, starting living on my own without help or support. But i don't have time to look after that. This existence is going at bullet train speed and i have to catch up as my life is running away from me.

Also, I have too much going on in my head right now ...

#personal post

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lia-jones · 4 years

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Growing Pains - Chapter Eighteen - Tangled In My Web

It was uncanny how cheerful Victor always seemed in the kitchen, his expression changing by just merely entering the room. It was almost a happy-go-lucky version of himself, his expression calm and relaxed, his movements fluid and almost musical, a little spring on his step. It wasn’t like Victor wasn’t relaxed before, but his contentment surely increased in the kitchen, his expression softer, happier. I was so glad to be a witness to that transformation.

Opening several cabinets, Victor took out an array of different pots and pans, putting them aside on the counter. He looked at them carefully, probably assessing if he needed anything else. Next, he went to the fridge and came back with his arms full of several vegetables, onions, garlic and a bottle of white wine in his hand. He put it all on the counter and went to get two glasses, filling both with the white wine he brought.

“Here. Have some wine and relax while I get to work.” Victor said, handing me the glass of wine.

“Do you need help?” I asked, sipping my wine. It was somewhat sparkly and sweet. I raised my eyebrows in appreciation.

“No, tonight I do all the hard work. It’s a very simple dish, won’t take long. Have your wine, I’m glad to see you enjoyed it.” Victor said, taking a sip from his glass, and turning to his cutting board with some vegetables. I watched him cut the ingredients at the speed of light like it was my own private show, seeing him in a way I had never seen him before. His focus wasn’t based on stress or in pressure. It was a labor of love, something that truly brought him pleasure, his expression quickly moving from one of close attention to the contentment of a job well done. After he was finished, he quickly glanced at me.

“Do you like what you see?” He asked, a sly smile on his face.

“Very much so. You really enjoy cooking, don’t you?”

“Yes, this is a passion of mine. If I could take any other job, I would be a chef.” He confessed.

“You have money, you can do what you damn please.” I teased.

“The more money you have, the greater the responsibility. Given you have something called a spine, of course.”

I took some time to answer, absorbing what he just told me. I had read about Gregory Lee, the financial mogul that built his fortune from scratch. Certainly Victor had his fate written in his blood, the family business to be passed on like a legacy throughout the generations.

“Did your parents pressured you to choose this route?” I asked. Victor answered matter-of-factly, busy with his pots and pans.

“Not so much my parents, my father. Not that he told me I had to do it, but no other option was ever on the table. I remember one day, I was still a teenager, I told my father that I wanted to be a chef and he laughed at me. He wasn’t even mad. To him, the thought of me working in anything else than investments was hilarious. I quickly took the hint.”

I didn’t know what to say. Victor quickly caught on my awkwardness.

“Don’t misunderstand me, I like what I do. It gives me a good lifestyle, and most people go through jobs they absolutely detest just to get by, so who am I to complain? Besides, being LFG’s CEO brought me some perks.” He reached for my hand on the counter, squeezing it meaningfully. I was about to tease him about how smooth he was, but my eye caught something moving in the sink, which almost made me fall from the stool I was sitting on. I glanced at it again, seeing a pair of red claws reaching for me, causing me to startle once again and let out a small, but still very embarrassing, shriek.

“Holy crap, what’s that?” I said, trying to recover from the scare. Victor was laughing hard, which almost made the scare worth it. I had never seen him laugh like that.

“It’s our dinner. It’s a lobster.” He said, still chuckling, his hand motioning to me to come closer.

And there it was. A huge live lobster, roaming in a bit of water in the sink. I suddenly became fascinated with it, as it reached its claws to me, like it was greeting me. I took a spoon that was laying on the counter and started playing with the crustacean, lightly poking at its claws, studying its reactions.

“The mean man is going to cook you, right? You were happy at home with your lady lobster and your baby lobsters, then some net grabbed you and first thing you know you are in a moody guy’s mansion, watching your fate from this sink, the steaming pot that awaits you. This is the end, my friend.” I was talking to the lobster, partly to tease Victor, but mostly because it was fun.

“Stop talking to it. It’s dinner, not a person.” Victor said, coming in my direction, grabbing the lobster.

“You’re going to throw a live lobster in a pot of boiling water?” I asked, horrified.

“How cruel do you think I am?” Victor was slightly offended. “I’m going to stab it in the head to kill it first.” He said, grabbing his knife and positioning its tip in the lobster’s soft spot.

“Stabbing him in the head isn’t cruel?!?!?”

By Victor’s expression, I could see he was at his wits end.

“First, it’s not a him, second, how am I supposed to….” He placed the knife on the cutting board and placed both hands on the counter, his head hanging low, seemingly defeated. “I’m not having lobster tonight, am I?”

“Can you kill it?” I grimaced.

Victor pondered for a moment, staring at the lobster, a frown on his face. He scoffed in frustration and went for the fridge.

“I have some steaks we can eat. That is, if you haven’t made friends with the cow.” He spoke ironically, and I could see he was upset things didn’t go as he planned. I couldn’t hide the smile this time, which Victor answered with a deathly glare.

As he was unwrapping the steaks, I moved closer and hugged him from behind. His body tensed, showing that he was clearly annoyed and unwilling to let it go just yet. I made him turn to face me, but Victor didn’t lean as he usually would. He maintained his height, making it hard for me to reach his face. Although I could see that he was indeed a bit upset, I somehow knew part of him was softening for me as well. I started stroking the part that I could reach, his chest, and spoke softly to him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you had to go to the market, after a terribly long flight, to pick that lobster for us. I appreciate the effort, really. But I know it felt wrong for you too. Otherwise you would tell me to shut it and cook it anyway.”

Victor raised an eyebrow at me, poker face on, but I could see he had softened a bit.

“And beef isn’t murder? Talk about a double standard.”

“I didn’t watch it die.” I started pressing small kisses on his chest, over the sweater. “Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.”

I finally broke his angry spell. He wrapped his arms around me and leaned closer.

“You’re quite a handful, you know?” He whispered in my hair, and I could feel the smile in his voice.

“Oh please, we both knew I would be high maintenance.”

Victor chuckled and leaned further for a kiss. I replied in the most tender, loving way I could muster, which in this case, being Victor I was kissing, it wasn’t very hard.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He said, trying to look cool and unaffected by the kiss, but his dark eyes told me otherwise. “I have to cook those steaks. You must be hungry.”

Victor quickly prepared the food and set the table. Obviously, him being such a perfectionist, the table was exquisite, with delicate plates and silverware, beautiful flowers and candles to set the mood. Even though I was just eating with him at his apartment, I almost felt underdressed for the occasion. The food itself was perfectly garnished, with shaped vegetables and herbs giving the dish a sophisticated touch.

But my biggest surprise was when I actually tasted the food. Perfectly seasoned and juicy, the steaks almost melted in my mouth. The sautéed vegetables were cooked to perfection, not too hard and not too mushy, and the seasonings brought out the best in every ingredient, so it was possible to single out every flavor. I hummed in pleasure.

“I’m happy to see you’re enjoying your meal.”

“It’s absolutely amazing.” I said enthusiastically, taking a sip of my wine. “You need to open a restaurant. I know you have your job, and your responsibilities, but just like, once a month. Share this happiness with the world.”

Victor chuckled.

“Who says I didn’t?”

“You have a restaurant?!?” This man was full of surprises.

“I had, a long time ago. It was called Souvenir.” Victor said factually, make the wine spin in his glass.

“Wait, I read about that restaurant before moving in!” I paused, the coin dropping. “Now I understand the reviews.” I said, laughing.

“Angry and unsufferable chef, I know.” Victor rolled his eyes, his face falling.

“Sorry.” I grimaced, but still laughed. “Why did you close?”

“I didn’t feel inspired to open anymore. Besides, Mr. Mills moved to France, and I didn’t have the patience to look for a replacement.”

“Wait, Mr. Mills? So that’s why he calls you boss!” Victor chuckled at my realization. “I found that so weird.”

“Mr. Mills is a good friend. I’m happy to see him doing well.” Victor stood up to take the dishes. I tried to follow him and help , but he grabbed my shoulder, gently pushing me back on my seat. “No, this is my job. Your job is to sit tight like a good girl and wait for dessert.”

After a moment, Victor returned with two dishes with pudding. I was never a huge fan of pudding, but this was something else. It had a perfect consistency, not too firm and not too soft, the velvety sensation on my tongue and the way it melted in my mouth making me close my eyes with satisfaction. The caramel and the vanilla blended perfectly, neither of them overpowering, just right. I couldn’t contain another myriad of compliments, and Victor seemed more than pleased to hear them.

After the delicious dessert, he led me to the living room. I noticed his vast CD collection.

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Go ahead. I’ll fix us a drink. What are you having?”

“Whatever you’re having. I trust your taste.” I said, sitting on the floor in front of his CD rack. I could see plenty of classical music and opera, but Victor seemed to have a taste for Jazz as well. Billie Holliday, Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, the guy had impeccable taste. I took out a CD that caught my eye.

“You like Carole King?” Victor asked, sitting by my side, handing me my drink.

“Everybody likes Carole King. Most of her songs are covers for other bands, even if most people don’t know it.”

“Put it on.” Victor ran his hand down my back.

In no time we could hear “Too late”. Victor got up, pulling me up with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, puzzled, while he put our glasses on the coffee table.

“We are going to dance. We can’t let a good song go to waste.”

My body buzzed with his warmth, as he wrapped his arms around me, his cheek close to mine. A thought crossed my mind, making me giggle.

“What is it?” He feigned an impatient voice. But his warm smile was there to tell me otherwise. I laughed harder this time. He was so cute. Not that I would ever tell him.

“A few months ago, I hated your guts.” He snorted, apparently amused with my honesty. “You’re smooth. Got me tangled in your web. Sneaky.” I teased him.

Victor held me closer, his mouth whispering seductively. Our bodies swayed to the music.

“And how does it feel to be in my web?”

“Warm. Comfortable. Like I don’t want to leave.” I said, leaning my head closer to him.

“Maybe I’m the one tangled in your web.” His lips were on my hair, I could feel his warm breath on my ear, making my skin tingle.

“What do you mean?” I turned, my nose caressing his.

Victor smiled at me, but didn’t say a word. His eyes were full of emotions, though. If only I could read them. He swiftly dipped me in his arms, pulling me up again to meet his lips.

#Growing Pains - Series #growingpains #mlqc victor #victor x oc #victor mlqc #mlqc li zeyan #love and producer #mister love queens choice #mlqc fanfic

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