cw suicide (not mine, I'm just venting), cw abuse

in 2017 i moved in with a girl because nobody would rent to her on her own. we were good friends and i knew full well that we wouldn't be by the time i moved out. given that she would be homeless otherwise, i did it. she made multiple suicide attempts during this period, each of which is seared into my memory. the first time she went into my room and stole all my benzos trying to overdose (thankfully benzos alone are pretty hard to die from unless you fall down the stairs or something). it was like 4am. she then demanded that i give her more (there were no more, she didn't believe me) or she'd leave and kill herself and it would be my fault. the second time she texted me the note while i was at work and i had to spend 45 minutes on public transport terrified that there was a corpse waiting for me at the end. when i got there someone had called an ambulance so my home was full of paramedics and cops. the bathtub was full of blood and she needed to get a ton of stitches at the hospital. i couldn't bring myself to put my arm in the tub and drain it so until she came home i couldn't go for a piss without seeing it and thinking about what i very nearly came back to. the third time she spent maybe a fortnight telling me she was going to kill herself on her birthday and if i told anyone or tried to stop her then she'd do it earlier. she'd sit in her room blasting the same incredibly depressing song over and over for two straight weeks while i just sat in bed hearing it through the wall and crying and not knowing what to do. one time she left a note and took some rope and disappeared in the middle of the night and i was searching through the woods in pitch darkness for over an hour trying to find her, again terrified that i'd get there too late. there were a bunch more incidents like this.

this was 18 months of my life, 18 months of constant hypervigilance for any kind of slight change in tone or behaviour that might indicate something was about to happen again. being the only other person around, her anger and frustration would get projected onto me, manifesting as constant emotional manipulation and abuse. any problems i had were a personal insult because i hadn't gone through what she'd been through. anything i did, literally as far as buying food for her dog because he'd run out, would turn into hours-long struggle sessions where every aspect of my character was torn to shreds. accusations that i was some kind of predator who'd only moved in because i was trying to fuck her came up a lot.

i got deeper into pills, i was getting shitfaced every night, i wasn't socialising, i was barely sleeping. by the end i was literally just staring at the walls silently because i was scared to do anything else. i couldn't leave because she had no means of supporting herself and the added stress might have been the final straw that killed her. even after she told me to leave, i kept paying rent for months because she couldn't afford it. she spent those months texting me more abuse, telling me on one occasion that I should kill myself.

there's no real point to this, i just need to vent it somewhere. it's been 5 years since i moved out and im still paralysed with anxiety whenever i do anything. i can't go to shows anymore, i can't meet people, im silent all the time because im scared to make noise. i freak out if im doing anything and i can hear someone talking because im afraid that i'll seem like im ignoring them, which was a massive flashpoint in that house. i barely leave the house to do anything. i feel like i haven't relaxed in years, im constantly on edge now because i had to be back then as a matter of life and death.

i never got any closure in any of this. i think about this girl every single day when some horrible memory or other bubbles up in my brain. i can close my eyes right now and see the bathtub where she slashed her wrists. i can see her at my bedroom door yelling at me to give her drugs that i didn't have. i don't know if she's alive. i can't talk to anybody about it. i tried to help my friend and it ruined my life.

Just a late night vent in hopes it help, feel free to ignore.

.

I went to bed early tonight, 'cause Ive barely slept more than 4-5h a night this week and I can Feel it, at my internship and then at home, barely able to think the few hours I have and swaying on my feet in the shower only to go to bed and then spend over 2h laying awake (as of now), like-- for fucks sake...

maybe it's because I got mad earlier, I had to wash my hair (a whole big, long affair), so I planned it a bit earlier before sleep at like 9 but turned out there was no hot water so I got pissed bcs then I had to wait almost an hour for it but I think I got over it, like I have no energy to be mad (enough to cry, tho, I guess, ugh), but I had to blow dry them before sleep so, dunno, is that why? I dont think so, but probably everything combined just got my brain on high alert and waved the sleep I Badly need goodbye. Worst is, if only I was Able to Fall asleep, Id get around 7h when I finally got to bed, but of course that didnt happen, fuck me I guess... at this point I even popped a pill Im pretty sure is gonna make me naouseus tomorrow and Im not sure its a good idea when I have less than 6h before my alarm but Im at the end of my rope tonight.

Fuck this, honestly, Im just so fucking tired...

vent under cut

Three days. It only took three days for me to cry because of him. THREE FUCKING DAYS ALONE WITH MY DAD and I've already reached the end of my rope with him.

I can't ask him for help. I can't say no to him. I can't set boundaries with him. I can't offer him help without him assuming that I now must be available for anything. Whenever I try to have a conversation with him I always walk away feeling stupid. He does this thing where he subtly changes the subject after every one of my responses, just enough to still be the one explaining or arguing or defending. Even if I agree with him he still argues like I'm opposing him.

I can't stand up to him. There's no way I can go up to him and say "hey maybe the medium human is upset because you're upset and they're reflecting your mood so maybe it's not THEM that needs to calm down" that doesn't just end with him upset at me.

I can't be the other parent. I can't do this. I'm so fucking tired and I can't even take a break when I need it. He gets upset at me about such little things that it feels like I should let it go just so he'll stop being upset at me. He doesn't want me to leave my mugs with the other dishes, he wants me to wash them myself. "Clean up after myself." I don't want to do that because that's an extra step involved in eating and the more steps are involved the less motivated I am to do it. He doesn't want to wash them, I don't want to wash them, there's a clear answer here, which is the fucking dishwasher. But noooo, he doesn't want them in the dishwasher either, because they're big. One of my mugs got broken once and I asked him about it and he said, while upset about it, that if I didn't want them broken I should just handwash them. I just. He does this thing where he wants something to happen and expects everyone else to make just as big as an effort as he does to make it happen. It's little stuff like wanting the dishwasher clear for more dishes, or the small human not going overboard on their screen time. But I have to help him with it, no matter how many other solutions there could be, or how much I need to be doing something else.

He. He just doesn't react to how im feeling. I was literally lying on the floor crying and he didn't react. I could be having a fucking anxiety attack and he wouldn't do anything. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I don't let him down and I'm not cruel to him or holding him back from doing the things he needs to do and to be fair he is under a lot of stress and he has a lot of work to do but I need to eat something and I need to rest because I'm going to run out of the reserve fuel that's coming from somewhere very soon but noOoOo this thing needs to happen NOW and I need to do it.

He. He referred to me crying and expressing how hurt I was while we were arguing once as "vomiting on him". Is that just what my hurt is to him? Something disgusting?

I'm trying so hard to see the good parts of our relationship. But there are so many bad parts. So many. So many ways in which he can hurt me and I can't fight back because I'm too afraid of hurting him. He can make me feel like the worst and most cruel person in the world. We've had such close, tender, supportive moments—but that shit's not okay. I could scream all of this at him, I could tell him exactly how he's hurting me and all the problems we have, and he would just be angry at me.

Fuck, I want so bad to look him in the fucking eye and tell him that I feel like he can hurt me and I shouldn't do anything about it. I want to look him in the eye and tell him he's hurt me and have him FUCKING VALIDATE ME FOR ONCE INSTEAD OF MAKING ME FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO BE WRONG SOMEHOW. I want to tell him he can't get away with being rude and hurtful. I JUST WANT HIM TO ACKNOWLEDGE HOW MUCH HE'S HURT ME. I can go from there! I can meet him in the middle! I WANT to meet him in the middle! I miss the dad I thought I had in the good moments.

I can't keep doing this. I can't keep reaching out. I've been doing the parent's job for the small humans because he's not going to help them in that way but I can't keep doing that. I can't keep bending and breaking myself to do what he expects of me. I can't keep trying to be the one to fix things.

Fuck.

I just need to vent :/

Man i fucking hate waking up having to deal with all this shit from my family. I cant come out of the closet cuz they will 100% kick me out, beat me. I cant talk about my interests because they'll start making irrational comments about the things im into "corrupting" me. They mock me for having an eating disorder and regularly comment on my body. They harrass me about my dating life when im never going to be interested in romance. I can never do anything right apparently. Im just dumb and incompetent and untalented and lazy i guess. It's always about how much they sacrificed for me like i wasnt the scapegaot for their marriage problems from when i was 3. My dad made us watch as he throws shit all over the place in violent fits of rage. He used to hit my mom. He projects his inferiority complex onto my brother and my brother takes that out on me. My sister only knows how escalate situations and that rebound comes ALSO back to ME. That's all im good for ig. I have to lie about all this to my peers at school and i am spiraling further and further down a world of self-hatred and angst and repression and i dont want to fucking deal with any of this anymore. Why dont i just kill someone. Why dont i kill myself. Why dont i start cutting my body up and push away everyone and everything and destroy myself from the inside out with cigarettes and alcohol. The only reason it's not as Bad As It Could Be is cuz my parents dont want their poow sense of mowal supewiowity damaged :( like feeding and clothing and looking after your kids' physical health isnt the bare fucking minimum. Screw all this. I am at the end of my rope i might just run away and risk the streets at this point.

Don’t read this it’s just another dumb vent. Kindly scroll 👍

if you’re still here. this is so cringe but dont mind. it’s just what I wish I could actually scream at people. IM DONE. IM SO FUCKING DONE WITH EVERYTHING IM DONE WITH TRYING IM DONE WITH SHOVING ASIDE MY MENTAL HEALTH TO JUST BARELY KEEP THINGS GOING IM SO FUCKING TIRED. OF EVERYTHING. IM SO TIRED OF THE CONSTANT GUILT AND ANXIETY I ALWAYS FEEL AROUND MY INTERACTIONS WITH PEOPLE. IM TIRED OF WORRYING AND HAVING NIGHTLY PANIC ATTACKS ABOUT WETHER IM GOOD ENOUGH, WETHER IM DOINF ENOUGH, IF PEOPLE ARE MAD AT ME. ALL IVE EVER TRIED TO BE IS NICE, NICE, NICE, AND ITS GETTING REALLY FUCKING EXHAUSTING. IM THIS CLOSE TO LOSING MY SHIT. IVE TRIED. SO HARD TO BE NEEDED, TO BE ENOUGH TO DO GOOD ENOUGH AND TO BE A GOOD PERSON AND FRIEND, BUT NOW IM REALLY NOT FEELING IT. IM SO TIRED OF BEING MR NICE GUY. I HAVE FORCED MYSELF TO STOP CRYING, CALMED MYSELF DOWN FROM PANIC ATTACKS, AND FORCED MYSELF TO GET UP AND ACTUALLY SAY SOMETHING WHEN MY MIND IS SCREAMING THAT IM TOO TIRED IF IM ASKED TO LISTEN TO YOU VENTING OR TO CALL YOU. EVERY FUCKING TIME I FEEL AWFUL, AT THE END OF MY ROPE, IM NEEDED FOR SOMETHING AND IM REALLY SICK AND TIRED OF TRYING TO BE SO NICE. IVE BEEN HAVING NEARLY NIGHTLY PANIC ATTACKS, CRIED EVERY DAY, AND EVERY DAY I WANT TO GIVE UP ON MY LIFE BECAUSE I DONT HAVE THE ENERGY TO KEEP MYSELF SANE BUT FUCKING DAMNIT SOMEONE ALWAYS NEEDS ME FOR SOMETHING AND IM SO DONE WITH THIS!! IM GOING CRAZY. EVERYTHING IS TOO MUCH. I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE.

Would put this under a cut but I'm on mobile, will tag appropriately and can add more tags if needed.

I hate how none of these supposed 'amazing inclusive period tracker apps' include a way for you to note you've started hormone therapy and are currently not getting any ever so you can have it not flip and start screaming 'BaBY?! Maybe U Have BaBY?!!!! YAYYYY' at you right away (looking at you Clue and SpotOn)

I just uninstalled Clue and I wish I could uninstall SpotOn but I literally cannot find a replacement that allows for enough tracking options aside from 'tag any extra info here and then we promptly will not remember any of it for you and also will sometimes not even save it'

Like I know no app will be perfect, but is this that hard?! It's triggering as fuck to start getting messages about my 'fertility window' and starting prenatal vitamins when literally, in the spot where you can note if you're getting fucked by anything other than life, you put down: nah nothing just me and the vibrator or dildo of the day. Like unless this is some second coming bullshit and my dildo is a god, I don't think I need to worry about pregnancy with my current situation.

Also, fun fact, SpotOn mentions nothing useful for folks like me in their FAQ and just spouts on about how 'inclusive and mature their app is, no pink or flowers'

Like maybe so, but tossing fake confetti in my face because you assume I'm pregnant when really the T is slowing and changing my cycle is not mature, and not fucking cool.

I knew my first period after starting T would be different (for example, it's a day late technically and I'm hoping it just won't show up at all tbh) but goddamn I did not expect to finally get all excited to check my 'inclusive' app for the options they claim to have for this stuff, only to find nothing at all, no tech support, no answers at all. That pisses me off, and makes me wish desperately I was better at coding and all that because I'd look into just making my own app for it at this point.

Im making one big post about this because I need to say it...

The recent support I've gotten on Tumblr due two three ask telling me I'm "racists" is crazy...

You've all stood by me when I really thought only one or two would. And honestly. I became very scared when those anons were made for the reasons that I thought I'd loose all the good people I've met on tumblr, that no one would be my friend anymore, and I know that sounds childish, but its the truth.

Now if your wondering what started this it was a smut post I made about Wolffe, a clone commander for the clone wars. I was doing a smut challenge with the reader very dominant and Wolffe very submissive. The reader was calling Wolffe a "dog" simply because his name is Wolffe, and it was only a pet name during there intercourse (you know I'd thought it be a good play on his name as a pet name and some people call there partner a pup or a dog during intercourse in a show of dominace), at the end theres a small scene where she takes care of him, helping him clean himself up and even helping him on the bed, she never calls Wolffe a "dog" after that, but instead calls him "Cyare" a popular mando name for lover/love/babe. You get the point, she never calls Wolffe a "dog" after sex. Its a strict sex thing she only uses to show dominace. It has NOTHING to do with color or the way Wolffe looks.

Now, Why the hell am I making a post about this? Again?

Well: I want to show these guys love:

And this is just some of the love I got for you guys. And honestly? You guys made me remember:

The fuck? You know what? I do love writing.

I love writing for you guys. If it could be my job it would.

And I love seeing your guy's crackhead comments you guys are like: "excuse me WHAT JUST HAPPENED-" Or those "my heart" comments.

I love seeing you guys reblog my stuff, the stuff I love writing for you all. And your right, I shouldnt let one or two crazy anons get to me.

So. After a black out tired type of sleep, and some time with good old fashion lovin farm Dog lulu.

I decided. FUCK ALL THEM HATERS.

Im doing what I want. WHAT I FEEL GOOD DOING

And that's writing for all of you and for myself

So lets thank these guys: @monako-jinn-stories @boopitybophades @leias-left-hair-bun @bad-batch-supremacy @reader3 @all them sweet anons

Who litterally seen me starting to tip into the gutter and went NAH DUDE GET THE ROPE and strapped me to a baby harnest that has a leash to litterally open up my eyes within a fucking night. To say I've got you and your okay you've done nothing wrong and explain to me. Some of you guys even said I could Vent to you and that was the sweetest thing I've ever got, others sent hearts and love.

And you guys were just so supportive.

Honestly. Im staying on Tumblr for you guys and want to start writing like immediately because honestly? I love you guys.

Ya'll are everything to me and I love you.

I love all of you.

And. At the end of the day? I still love the anons saying I was racists, because ya'll still read my story, so at the end of the day who really took the L? Haha I took the W at the end of the day

Anyways, Im very much glad to have such great people reading my stories (and holy shit I spilt all my tajin again rip).

Once again I love All of you. And would ride and die for all of you, so. If you need me I will always be at your back. No matter what.

Thank you all so much.

It’s swturdaaaaaauyyu and I’m here!! So ive sent a assload of prompts... and im gonna do it again!!! Because you’re yhe starry constelatyin I see in the telescope of life. I had a wonder what if billy is at the end of his rope after another round with niel and Steve fi nds him and right as billy would reaer back his fist to punchsteve just steps close and kissed him and billy cries angry because my baby needs outlet to vent

✨I love you honey ✨and thanks for the prompt ;) Here’s some fighting. Tw slurs. Tw suicidal thoughts.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” Billy scratched his fingernails down his own face. Wanting to rip across the skin. The irritated area around his eyes pulsates, the cut on his lip and his eyebrow churn more. Spill more blood. Red drips into his eye.

He turns and there’s Steve. Blurry with red. Flames coloring his wild hair poking up at every angle. There seems to be wind kicking it around. Or maybe it’s just Billy’s mean breath.

“Get over yourself!” Steve yells out, a slight panic to his voice, as he slams his hands down over the top of the Camaro.

They had been at the quarry, tossing empty beer cans into the water the night before. And Billy had stumbled home through his own window thinking he could get away with it. Thinking he could act up like a basic shitty teenager. He thought wrong.

Billy drove through the night of Hawkins in a rage, pressing the gas down until the petal threatened to break off. Skidding and burning rubber over the prissy streets of Hawkins.

Making marks into the ground like his farther carved marks into his face. Like his father’s boot left a footprint on his ribs.

According to Harrington, in all his own fast car ride and furious hair, Hopper got a call for speeding and recognized the lisense plate. He chose not to call it in or handle it himself. He thought it would be a good idea to send in Harrington, babysitter of the year, and ain’t that just angelic for the brown-nose doe-eyed motherfucker.

Metallica was still blasting from his speakers as Steve slammed his hands over the hood again. Made Billy’s head throb. “Are you trying to kill yourself going that fast, dumb shit? What the hell were you thinking?”

Billy let his head lull back, a mean smile on his face. A meaner laugh cackling up from the back of his throat.

“Ain’t no one in this town would miss me, Harrington. That’s what I was thinking.”

If Steve looked offended by the last name, and not some off the cuff nickname, he didn’t let the hurt flash over his pretty face for too long. He shook his head, shaking his whole body as he does it. Shivers in his jacket in the Indiana night. “That’s a lie,” he says as he starts walking around the car.

And fuck, he’s waking around the car. Billy has half the mind to go back inside the passengers seat. To take her out of park and zip right off the edge into the blackness of the water below. Like the crushed beer cans.

“No one would miss you? Jesus, how self absorbed can you be?” Steve’s closing in on Billy, his voice going quieter. “Your family would miss you- like, Max wouldn’t have a bother anymore. The party would loose their favorite berserker ogre for their freaky game. Hopper would loose what he loves doing every Saturday afternoon: trying to catch us drinking underage.”

“Fuck you, Harrington,” Billy cuts him off. Those pretty lips still moving but Billy now has his back to a tree. No escape. The gaping maw of the forest on one side with demons clawing out to him, and the other side the sweet release of the quarry’s water. One jump, that’s all it would take.

“Are you listening to me, Bill!” Steve shoves against his chest. The tree hurts Billy’s back.

“Fuck you, I hate you.” His voice doesn’t sound like his. It sounds like a lost coyote howl in the night. Alone, high pitched, and trembling. “I hate this whole god damn town. I hate my fucking step sister! She’s not my family, she’s better off with out me there! I’m the one who keeps being a fucking faggot and getting beat because of it!”

Billy shuts his mouth with a click, he didn’t want to say that. Didn’t want to tell prissy fucking Harrington that of all people. His outside pool and tight fitting polo shirts, the spooky cellar of wine they stole a bottle from once and his nice BMW that cost more than a college education.

Didn’t want to tell Steve, with his pretty hair and pretty eyes, pretty lips and pretty laugh, didn’t want all that taken away.

But now Billy’s shot himself in the damn boot. Might as well drop off the cliff, now really there ain’t nothing to live for-

“You’re gay?” Steve asks. Just asks. Doesn’t point or laugh. Doesn’t wrap his hands round Billy’s neck and squeeze. Actually, fucking actually, lifts his hand off Billy’s chest and cups his cheek.

Billy notices for the first time through Steve’s fingers that he’s crying.

“Don’t,” Billy whispers. Don’t hate me, don’t leave me. “I don’t,” he struggles. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to miss you.

Steve curls his fingers over the back of Billy’s neck and pulls him while he leans down, meeting him halfway, their lips crushing in a kiss. Billy’s eyes are closed as he lets out a whimper. A desperate, sobbing whimper that contorts his whole face. Steve keeps kissing him right though it.

Billy lifts his hands to feebily push against Steve’s chest, gripping the fabric in a white knuckle grasp as if it were the only thing tethering him to the earth. He pushes Steve back just to gasp a breath, manages out a weak, “No,” he doesn’t really mean.

No, I don’t want to ruin you. No, I don’t want to drag you down. No, I don’t deserve someone as good as you.

But Steve doesn’t let go. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss. Moves his lips gently, romantically, like they’re in love.

Billy sags againt the tree behind him, lets his body unfurl the tension he’s been carrying since he was eight years old in California and his mother left him crying on the phone. Begging, asking when is she going to come home. When is someone going to come help him.

Steve curls his other hand around Billy’s waist and pulls their bodies flush. It’s a possessive motion, making Billy feel safe and secure. He breaks the kiss off with a pained moan. Sobbing again.

“I’ve got you,” Steve breaths into existence the answer to all of Billy’s prayers. Running his pretty fingers through Billy’s sweat sticky hair. Cupping his hip like he loves him. Like he wants to help.

“I’ve got you, Bill.”

fuck it i really need to get this off my chest. i guess this is me coming out in a really roundabout stupid way and i just needed to fucking vent because i can’t take this

after my last relationship it took me 5 years to feel like i could trust someone enough to enter into another relationship. i was terrified of being hurt and it took a lot of talking myself up to be able to let myself be vulnerable with someone again. and then it turned out to be so good. i felt so loved and so happy and i finally, finally started to develop some confidence surrounding things that i have hated myself for and felt were barriers to me ever being loved. i would get choked up thinking about how much i loved my boyfriend and how i didn’t know someone could make me feel that wanted. of course this doesn’t end happily; i got dumped and it turned out that my feelings had ceased to be reciprocated a ways into our relationship. now im realizing that i thought i knew what it was like to be loved by someone but i still don’t know, because i haven’t ever been loved, i guess

but the reason i feel like nobody will ever love me doesn’t come from the rejection, though it hurts unbelievably. i think i need to be candid about this because keeping it buried forever is just going to keep hurting me and making me feel like i can’t be loved because nobody would ever want someone like me.

what im avoiding saying with this baffling stream of consciousness is that i’m intersex. i have an intersex condition that i’ve grappled with my entire life and i don’t want to get into the details, but there it is. i don’t ever talk about it because i don’t want people to think less of me. i work my ass off in everything i do because i hate myself for it and want to prove that i’m worth something, because my condition makes me feel worthless. i am undeniably a man, but there is always this word modifying my status as male, this horrible thing that feels like a curse. i’ve never opened up about it because i never wanted pity, i never wanted my friends to treat me differently or talk to me like i wasn’t their equal; i never wanted to hear that i was good at something “for someone like me,” i never wanted to be anything but just some guy. i also haven’t opened up about it because people who have known about it have hurt me, both physically and emotionally, because of it. but i can’t keep that hidden from people i enter into relationships with. for my entire life i’ve had to carry around this self loathing and it’s kept me from initiating or accepting relationships. it’s made me so lonely and isolated and i know that statistically people dont tend to love people like me.

to top it off, i’m an addict and i have a health condition that will either cause me on-and-off suffering indefinitely or will suddenly kill me without a moment’s notice. the only reason i’m saying all this stuff is because i know now that there’s no point in keeping it close to the vest. i’m at rock bottom and i think part of me is saying this because i know it’ll make some people think less of me, and maybe i’m just trying to self-destruct. but maybe there’s a part of me that hopes i’m wrong about all this, and that maybe in spite of who i am, i could be loved - really loved - by someone else. i don’t know.

i had surgery due to a complication pertaining to my intersex condition - sorry to everyone i lied to about the nature of my surgery - and it was fucking traumatic and horrible and my now-ex had to deal with so much of my fear and anxiety as i went through it. he had to watch me get sick with my mast cell disorder again, and he had to put up with me going through withdrawal multiple times. i think i have too much baggage and that, coupled with the fact that most people will never love someone who was born like me, will always make me too hard to love. i wouldn’t love me either. i don’t.

i don’t really know why i’m writing this. i’ll probably regret it and it’s long and i doubt anyone will really bother to read through it. i’m half coming out and half whining about how miserable my life feels. there’s nothing empowering about this, i don’t take any pride in it, i’m just at the end of my rope and i needed to just get it all out. i’m tired of carrying around all this hurt and self-loathing and i can’t take the loneliness and pain and fear of rejection it causes me every day. i don’t feel like i’m ever going to be good enough for another person and i’m never going to know what it feels like to hear “i love you” without wondering if it’s a lie. i’m not angry, i’m not resentful, and maybe i should be, but i just feel hurt. i thought i could have imagined how much all of this would hurt, but i was so wrong.

i really hate the language. raphael uses to paint me. in their doc. like how dare you. HOW. dare you. who does that like. WHO DOES THAT LOL. like. what?? 

“[she] acts victimized and fragile” “this set her off” like you are literally doing everything in your power to try to isolate me at the very end by painting me as being crazy. lmao. lmao????????????

and then this bit

this time, i made it clear it was the final time, i gave her no avenue to contact me or respond. i understand how this makes her feel ‘unheard’ but from my perspective, i had to do it so as not to be manipulated back into the relationship.

this bit is great because it shows how egotistical raphael is to think i would have even CONSIDERED contacting them. i’ve been telling our friends, your friends, that i want nothing to do with you, that i don’t want to speak to you. you’re the one who all but begged to our mutual friend to ask to speak to me lol. you’re the one who wanted to talk to me. you’re the one who went through PAYPAL of all things to try to get to me. you LITERALLY spent so long asking our friend to get me to agree to speak to you AND I CONTINUED TO REFUSE. BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE AROUND YOU. I DON’T WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU. you painting this narrative like this is so disingenuous and such a fucking like. it’s so. i don’t even know the word right now i’m so annoyed and angry. i told our friend i have no interest in speaking to you. i told them no. i told them no no no. they told you that i said no. and then you asked them “ok well can you ask if she’d be willing to speak to me and if so then preferably by the/at the (idk anymore i have to look) may bc i have exams” LIKE HOW? DARE YOU. you really think i owe you. my time??? i have never. tried to contact you. i never thought about it. i was moving on. you’re the one trying to contact me. please get a reality check. you are still, at the end, projecting YOUR actions and YOUR guilt and YOUR feelings onto ME. STOP. PROJECTING. ONTO PEOPLE. RAPHAEL.

you blocking me everywhere isn’t what made me feel unheard raphael. that’s such a stupid stupid STUPID?? THING TO SAY. LIKE WHAT. do you even hear yourself like. did you look at anything you wrote and say yeah, this makes sense. YOU BLOCKING ME ISN’T WHAT MADE ME FEEL UNHEARD. I DIDN’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT SPEAKING TO YOU AT THAT POINT. what made me feel unheard was all of the countless instances during our relationship where i tried to express myself to you, my feelings, my frustrations, and you shut me down. you told me that anything i had to say was unimportant. you told me that, when i tried to say how my feelings were hurt too, i was making it all about me. so are you really surprised??? that i felt i had no room to speak? that i never opened up to you about anything anymore? lol. you’re so. rich. “i had to do it as to not be manipulated back into the relationship” DUDE. IT WAS A MUTUAL. PARTING. LIKE. I LITERALLY AGREED. YEAH. THIS ISN’T GOOD. I DON’T WANT TO DATE YOU ANYMORE. and then YOU are the one who asked me to still be friends. which i can’t fucking prove anymore because you deleted your fucking messages. i don’t even remember why you approached me after a week of silence to break up, but i literally agreed with you. and then YOU. wanted. to be friends. i wasn’t the one who proposed it. YOU DID. so if anything, just like the last times you broke up with me, you’re the one who reaches out to me first to try to rope me back in and manipulate me by being nice and making me feel bad. one time you broke up with me, you literally hounded me by mentioning me in posts (which i’ll provide down here btw) from both my ahri and my personal blogs. you literally came onto my personal blog and reblogged one of my vents to be like “i need to talk to you” and then you literally went to our friend to ask her to tell me that you wanted to talk to me. so no. stop fucking lying. stop painting this narrative that i’m the one who keeps manipulating back into staying with me. yes i begged and cried to make things work, but those were my genuine feelings. i didn’t want things to be over. i didn’t want it to end. i thought things could work so i was fighting to make it work. i see how it comes across as being emotionally manipulative, but each time i sat and cried and said please don’t go, i was literally. quite literally. sitting there bawling in tears giving myself a headache fighting to keep this relationship up and the ONE TIME I DIDN’T DO THAT, you accused me of giving up and it just made me feel like you WANT me to sit and cry and beg. god. every time i look at your fucking doc again im so infuriated by something new. you’re literally sitting here trying to paint me as the crazy ex girlfriend and your shitty ass hakujin friends are helping you. lmao.

just a little vent because im really, really tired, my anxiety’s been kicking my ass hard for the last few weeks, and i just feel on the end of my rope dealing with shit even though i literally said i was doing fine in therapy today (spoiler: im not fine)

i feel like i need to preface myself. let it be known. i do not hate my friends. in fact, i care for them quite a bit. i care about their wellbeing, their happiness and health. i enjoy their friendship, and presence, and spending time with them. what i do hate is pity, myself, and the fact that trauma has made my brain so fucked like this to begin with.

so, long story short, its sad boi times, i’m super fuckin’ lonely and isolated, and the grand idea that i’m always gonna be that way - that i’ll never have a partner or a best friend i can just... lean on, bar nothing, nor a happy fulfilling life really rears its ugly head and hurts like a motherfucker sometimes. nothing new.

a long story long...

so i’m a pretty fucking depressing person in general, right? i’m not pleasant and i know it. i bitch a lot, i’m salty, i’m absolutely not the nicest, and a lot of the time i come off a lot meaner and more bitter than i’d like. i don’t mean to. i try to be positive or to look out for others, y’know? at the end of the day, i’m just like every other person. i just want to be liked. to be wanted. to belong.

most of the time... i never feel that way. and like, y’know? its nobody’s fault, really. i know it’s past abandonment and abuse that makes my brain think everyone actually hates me. but sometimes that feeling is founded, which is i suppose how my brain gets away with still feeling like that to begin with.

i’m forgettable. i’m nobody’s best friend, i don’t think i’m lovable - not likeable either, really - nor partner material though i wish i was, and im so sick of being so fucking lonely all the time. i don’t even think my friends consider me friends generally. i’m not really anyone’s friend, yeah? i’m an acquaintance they have to put up with and tolerate when i inflict myself on them.

you know those memes, that are like always making fun of the weakling, the friend who walks behind everyone or who gets picked last in the group (if they’re included at all), that friend who’s never invited to things, or gets pitied? that’s me.

or debatably worse, means so little that if i just disappeared, it wouldn’t matter even a mote. that one really stings. that one i know for a fact is true, and i don’t mean that in a guilt tripping way. just that it’s the way it is. it really kills me.

and like..... i don’t have any irl friends. i didn’t come from a great background anyway, but i attracted a lot of trouble and negativity and in my own pain i pushed away a lot of people and hid until i didn’t know how to be human anymore, and now i can’t, and im alone. there is literally nobody that would actively come check on me or drag me out of my house if i was feeling down. and i’ve tried. i really tried. it’s hard sometimes, to try. maybe being a narcissist or a serial abuser’s playtoy is the only thing i am good for. and this is even before covid, much less now where everyone’s isolated or else.

the people i can genuinely say i love with all my stupid little heart are all across the country and the world. even people i care about in the same state are hours and hours away across literal mountains. that’s all i’ve got. long distance internet friends. and i feel selfish and terrible because i want more and i hate it.

all of those friends have partners. and if they don’t have partners, they already have their best friends. their irl pals. their communities, and groups, and friend-families and companions and lives and just.... i don’t mean that badly. everyone is more than entitled to their life and happiness and i guess i just....

i wish i was part of that. for someone.

i don’t want to be an obligation to respond to, or just..... someone on the edges. the fringe friend. and with online friends i am, i absolutely am, worse than anything. im something to pity and tolerate when the real time is spent having fun with their actual friends and loved ones. i’m nothing to anybody. i know if i just walked away, just closed down discord, blog, wherever else and vanished, nobody would ... i dont know. they’d just shrug, go ‘eh, whatever’ and move on easy and simple. no worry. no concern. and that’s great for them, but i just... want someone to care on principle. its not the guilt trip of the action. it’s the idea of i wish someone would care if something happened to me.

i hate internet friends because i don’t want them to be internet friends. some of the amazing people i know i just wish i could see, whenever i wanted. that i could hang out with them, bring ice cream and bad movies when they’re sad, see and hear them laugh, and have fun, and care. i wish i could just have a big house and my friends could be housemates, or live in the same apartment block, or a fucking little cottagecore farm commune out in the woods where we can all live off the land and each other and grow crops and animals and just be happy. or just... something. something. but i know i’ll never be included in that. everyone else would go. be happy to see each other. just... without me, the ‘not really a friend’, the fucking acquaintance, the stupid, stupid naive little idiot.

i’m so touch starved and sleep deprived and exhausted. my heart always hurts and i’m so full of anxiety and i just. just desperately, DESPERATELY need a hug, and just to be told “bluu, it’s gonna be okay, you matter to me and i care” but you can’t do that when it isn’t actually true. you just can’t. you can’t fake that.

i know nobody would go to bat for me. i’m alone in my own corner. if i have a breakdown, i have to have it alone and shoulder myself because nobody’s gonna be there at my side. i know i’m always gonna be watching from the sidelines, as everyone else is happy, and doing their thing, and has their family and loved ones and i...... shouldn’t even fucking exist.

and i dont want pity. i dont want platitudes or ‘i’m sorry’ or guilt, or ‘i would but...’ or any of that shit. nobody’s supposed to feel bad over this. i’m not in the business of toxic guilting, and im not in the business of fake friendships. that would defeat the purpose of literally anything.

i just...... really wished i had someone who would hold me up and (platonically or romantically. anything.) go “this one! This is the one I want to keep around for as long as possible, please. i want this one.” 

and no matter how hard i wish and pray, that’s just something i’ll never have, and i know it.

Die a hero?...No thanks Chapter 7

Trigger warning: self depreciating thoughts/ thoughts of disappearing

If someone asked Flug to describe dementia in one word, he'd slap them and repeat the word chaotic ten times. Why ten times, they may ask. That's because once doesn't even begin to encompass the chaotic nature of her. Thinking back, he was glad to have dropped 505 back at his apartment.

Thirty minutes into “Dementia style fun” and they were running from an angry mob of pissed off mall shoppers. No, she didn't try to steal anything. Stealing something would have been an easier feat compared to this. No, what she did was much worse. Within those thirty minutes, not only had she managed to fill every single elevator and escalator with bubble gum and cotton candy (pulled out from nowhere!!), but also positioned every single mannequin into extremely explicit positions in front of children shops and made it rain energy drinks from the sprinkler system. Flug was somehow roped into achieving the last one all on his own.

The worst part of it all was that Flug was having the time of his life! The adrenaline, feeling of exhilaration, the burn of lungs, it was all so great!

It was also horrible. He was a hero, a person of the upper moral echelon. He should be the one stopping people from committing these actions, not actively participating in it. But yet, he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad. Logically, he knew he should but the feelings weren't bubbling up like he thought they would.

No, he felt euphoric, like he was on top of the world! Nothing could stop him now!

Right now they were running from a mob of angry mall goers. He could hear the angry slaps of their feet and the loud cursing from right behind them. The mob was right on their heels and it was so damn exciting!

“Hey Fluggy buggy, what'd I tell ya? It's fun isn't it?!” Dementia screamed over the roar of the crowd.

Panting heavily, he threw her a large grin and a thumbs up.

“Eeeeee! I knew you'd love it! It's my favorite pass time on the weekends! Although I can't do it too often cause then the people recognize me and I get chased out before I can even do anything. Boring!” She threw her hands up, emphasising her last word.

He snorted loudly and looked back at the crowd to flip them off. Cries of indignation rang out and he snorted harder. Hah, what a riot! Dementia began to laugh wildly as well and screamed cuss words back at the crowd, causing them to rile up even more.

God, when was the last time he had this much fun? Honestly, he's never. Not in his childhood, teenagehood, current hood, never…Disappointing, he needed to have this more often.

Looking over at Dementia with her wide crazed smile, hair going crazy in the wind, he also realized he's never felt this comfortable with someone before either. He felt that they clicked in a way that no one could even begin to understand. A loud, chaotic earthquake and a calm ocean combining to create a devastating tsunami, ripping and terrorizing the local populace.

It was powerful, crazy, destructive! It was...was...pure fucking fun!!

He cackled madly and grabbed Dementia, pulling her into a side alley. She yelped at the sudden handling of her and glared at him.

“What are you doing?! Let me go! No one, but bon-bon touches me without permission!”

She gnawed at his arm in anger, seething at his audacity to touch her. She growled when he ignored her. They skid to a stop when they hit the end of the alley. The mob crowded in and blocked off the entrance.

“We have you now!”

“You can't run from us anymore!”

“You're gonna pay for ruining my clothes!”

“Uh, hey nerd? What's the plan now that you've trapped us?” Dementia whispered as she spit out a square of his lab coat. She stared anxiously at the crowd behind them. Flug turned around and scoured through his pockets, throwing small bits of paper away angrily. As his hand touched cold metal, he grinned and pulled out a small green and black disk.

“My plan is...this!” He yelled manically, slapping the disk onto his chest. The green glowed brightly as both Flug and Dementia began to float upward. Dementia's eyes widened as she felt herself become weightless. He cackled madly as the angry mob screamed in anger at their escape.

“Woah!! Fucking sweet dude! I'm flying!”

“We're flying, Dementia!”

“IM FLYINGGGGGG!”

Flug smirked at her and chuckled. He decided that he liked her, she was fun, interesting, kind of annoying. She could be the first friend he's ever had, 505 didn't count cause he was kinda like a son rather than a friend.

They rose about an inch above the building, bobbing up and down like a buoy. Flug gently placed her down on the roof and reached up to take off the disk. With a sudden small pop, the little disk exploded into several pieces causing Flug to fall face first onto the rooftop. He groaned in pain as he pushed himself up onto his knees, rubbing the irritated areas.

“Hahahahaha Seems like the nerd's also a clumsy dunce! Better watch out or you'll trip on air!”

Ok, she'd be an irritating friend. Still better than what he's had.

“Dementia! Shut up! I'm not clumsy, my device simply malfunctioned!”

“Oh Oh, that's even better” she giggled, “That means you're not a nerd anymore, no more smarts! Hahaha welcome to the brawn club, Population, Dementia~”

Flug rolled his eyes at her.

“You do realize smart people can make mistakes right?”

He looked over what was left of the disk. Most of the protective plastic had melted off and the wires had fused together. It was hard to tell what went wrong, but with his tools at home he could determine the cause in no time. It worked pretty well for a prototype.

“Does that mean I'm smart, Fluggy buggy?! Cause I've been told I'm dumber than rocks. Though I bet they wish they didn't say anything at all considering they died by said rocks a few moments later. That was pretty fun actually! Anyway I'm smart now!” Dementia gasped dramatically. “Maybe I can be Black Hat's nerd!”

“What? Dementia no. Yeah, you're smart in your own way, but you can't be Black Hat's “nerd”. It takes years of learning and mechanical knowledge. Plus who would take care of your job now?Also, you can't be smarter than me...Wait, I don't even want to be Black Hat's nerd. Fuck, scientist! Look at what you're making me say now!”

“Omg, you're so right!” Dementia squealed, ignoring his last statement, “Blacky would be without his body guard if I wasn't there! Look at your arms, there's no way you could take that place. They're practically sticks! Alright, you be the nerd and I'll be the brute! I'll even come and grace you with my magnificent prowess by smashing things!!”

“What n-”

“FEDOR ALYOSHA FLUG! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!” A thick Russian voice cut Flug off.

On the roof right behind them was Flug's dad, Strong Man, absolutely red in the face with anger. There was a large cracked crater under his feet, showcasing the strength of his landing. Dementia, deciding to take a strategic retreat, camouflaged and scurried away.

“D-dad, hold on! Please, it's not what it...looks like?”

Strong man glared sharply at his son.

“Don't. Even. Try. I know what happened and I  beyond angry. Causing a scene at the mall, vandalizing property, constructing lewd scenes?! I taught you better than this. We're leaving now and you better have a good excuse or you might end up back at the academy!”

Strong man grabbed Flug's arm and dragged him away.

____________________

Dementia watched as Flug and the large hero vanished from view. She hadn't completely left Flug to the hero's mercy. She hid behind a large vent, waiting for an opportunity to rescue him or that was what she expected to happen. What she didn't expect was for the hero to claim to be Flug's dad.

Flug's dad, a hero… digusting! She scrunched over, gagging at the thought. Ugh, she had to do something about this. Poor Fluggy trapped under a hero's lineage, stopped from causing mayhem at his heart's desire. He needed to be rescue as fast as possible.

First things first, Black hat needed to know. She stared at the spot they disappeared from, then scurried away toward the hat mansion.

_____________________

Flug slammed against the soft cushions of his couch. It didn't hurt, but his vision spun from the force of his impact. His dad stood before him, hand still outstretched from having shoved Flug down. Looking at the intimidating stature of his father, Flug’s body trembled in fear as he pushed himself up, his arms barely having enough strength to accomplish this. Strong man roughly shoved him down again, this time leaning his face inches away from Flug's own.

“You can't even begin to imagine the depth of anger right now. How could you do something like that?!” He choked, his voice tight with barely restrained rage, “I understood when you acted out as a teenager, that's normal, but now? Now you have no excuse. Where is your medicine?! I know you haven't been taking it!”

“Dad wai-”

“No! I don't want your excuses! You don't get any excuses anymore! You are a hero now! You have expectations that you must fulfill. Do you know how hard it was for me to make sure no one recognized you and that you didn't get arrested?!”

“If I could just expla-”

“You don't! You were too busy fraternizing with your new ‘friend’, causing trouble, ignoring any thought of the consequences! I have more than half a mind to get rid of this apartment and force you back to the academy, you obviously can't handle your freedom!”

“What! You can't do that! I paid for this and I am-”

“My son, I can do whatever I want with you! I raised you from childhood to adulthood, you are mine! Watch your tongue or I will go through with it! Do you understand?”

“.....”

“I said. Do. You. Understand?”

“...yes отец.”

“Good. From now on, you will come visit me every morning at 8 am so I can watch you take your meds. I will be the one giving them to you, so that way you can't switch them with sugar pills. And don't even say that you won't switch them, you can't be trusted with your medicine on your own anymore. I expect you tomorrow at 8 on the dot. If you are late even once from now on, it's the academy for you.”

With the last word, he stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door with finality.

Flug stared at the door and watched the wall splinter with cracks from the strength of slam. He didn't know when he started crying. The tears simply began to roll lightly down his face. He reached up to wipe at them, but they didn't stop no matter how many he wiped away. He didn't even know why he was crying, he felt completely numb.  

Well he did at first. After a moment, pure sorrow cut through him like a sharp knife, crying turned to sobbing. His wails echoed through the apartment. He felt alone, pathetic, worthless. Nothing about him was worth a damn in the world. Maybe everyone would be happier if he just dis-

Warmth enveloped him in a hug and soft coos were purred next to his ear. 505, the gentle and loving bear that he had saved without a second thought. The bear that he had made a difference to, that he mattered to. He might not matter to anyone else in the world, but he knew that he mattered to 505.

He turned around and hugged 505 tightly around the middle as he bawled. He didn't think, he just let himself feel and get all the horrible sad emotions inside of him out.

He sat there, cuddled up to 505 until his tears ran dry and he felt numb again. His head hurt and his eyes burned. If he closed his eyes would everything disappear, would his pain stop? He pushed his face deeper into the soft blue fur and drifted off to a deep sleep.

VENT TIME!

Skip this if you dont want to be exposed to mentally ill thoughts. I'm approaching the end of my rope.

-

Is anyone reading this? Am I alone? I want to be alone and at the same time I dont. I wouldnt be posting this if I didnt want people to read it. Lets start at the top.

My self worth is nonexistent, which is the root for most of my other problems. I dont know when this happened. Maybe its always been this way, from the first time I was bullied back in elementary school, to Luca leaving me behind. I havent had a friend like her ever since she turned her back on me. Hold on, I need a drink for this.

My love for her was purely platonic, and still, sometimes I think it was the most amount of love I ever felt for someone. I feel horrible about it. I have a boyfriend, you know. We've been together for over two years, and I love him so so much. But still. Theres a void in me that his presence cant fill. Maybe I need closure, or maybe I just need my best friend back. I dont know how I'll ever get over it. Its been three years already. It cant be like this forever.

Maybe that also ties back to my selfworth. I always try to please everyone. I fight toxicity with kindness, or at least I try to. I try to befriend everyone I meet. Everyone has to love me. Love me. Aishite. I am so eager to please. I beg of you: do not do anything for me, I do not deserve it. I am here to serve, I exist merely as a side character, tell me what you need and I will provide. This is not a kink, its what my brain tells me I need to do in order for people to like me. I will make you breakfast, and I will help you get into bed when youre too drunk to even talk. I will cuddle you through your nightmares and bring you aspirin on the next day. Do not ever do anything for me, I beg you, because the guilt will consume and devour me whole. I will only speak when spoken to. I am in a discord call witt my friends, and I only open my mouth for banter and jokes, or to respond to a question. Dont start talking. You know you are annoying. Its what youve been told all your life. Its not fucking fair. Its not my fault! It was never my fault! I just wanted to be liked, just wanted to fit in. I never asked for this! I never asked to be weird and annoying! It is my nature and I cant help it. I cant. Is it an illness? Or is it simply me?

I play medic for hours. I want to play different classes too, but they need me. Its the one thing Im good at. One of the best, even. Im top of the leaderboard almost every session. "Good job Gewitter." "We need revives!" "Medics, res nades at 20 seconds!" Im a good soldier. I do what I must, and I do it well. Im terrified that I'll stop being useful one day. Every session that I'm not on top of my game makes me sink deeper into my hellscape of a brain. I belittle myself, I hurt myself, I break down and get drunk and almost pass out on top of my keyboard during debriefs. I feel so hopeless. I'll never achieve more than this, and so I keep going.

I'm so anxious about people liking me. They need to like me. Its hard to talk. My voice is my achilles heel. I talk, and people call me "she", and a part of me dies. Why did I get born like this. Why me? Not just my voice is wrong, but my words too. Everything that leaves my mouth needs to be perfect. If its not well received then I think about it for months or years. It keeps me up at night. Love me. Please love me. Arent I doing well? Arent I saying what Im supposed to? Some people laughed at my joke. I gain sympathy. Let me explain how my brain works:

When I meet new people, I assume that they hate me. Every. single. one. I need to prove my worth. If I say something good, something that gains laughs or furthers a conversation, then their opinion of me rises. But it doesnt stay that way, it degrades over time, so I have to keep being funny and witty and oh god please tell me Im saying the correct things to you. If I say something bad? something cringy or boring or even neutral? Im done for. It will not leave my mind for weeks, and after that, it will circle in my memory until the end of time. Thats just my life. I remember so many things that I just want to purge from my brain forever. Others perception of me is back to zero, or maybe lower. Who knows. But I'll probably get drunk or high to escape at least temporarily. God those thoughts. They never leave.

My go-to drug is Speed. Its amazing, nothing in this world makes me feel so good. Im always low energy, perpetually tired, doing my best to stay motivated and focused. It almost never works. Speed makes me feel alive! Like I can achieve anything! Suddenly Im awake, I can think, I can do chores and complete tasks and take walks and make art! Speed makes me feel like a human being. Without it, Im just a zombie. And no, its not the absence of the drug that causes it. Ive felt this way a looong time ago already, before ever touching any kind of drug. The only downside is that I cant control what Im doing. I have the energy and motivation, but it just goes where it wants to. Im fine with that though. A few months ago I took some and spent 5 hours drawing without moving an inch, it was ecstatic. I had a long break from speed after that because I ran out, but we ordered more, and I took some today. I took a nice, long walk around the neighbourhood in the dark. I've never felt so invincible. It was incredible.

I can feel my brain shutting down right now. The dose was high, and my body is slowly coming down (~7 hours after taking it). Im also finishing up a bottle of Salitos because I couldnt handle writing about Luca while sober. But I digress.

Ive talked about my shitty self worth. About my anxiety. About my drug problem. So lets move on to the topic its all connected to: depression.

Let me be clear here: In all my years of feeling like a worthless piece of shit, self harming and drinking the pain away, fantisizing about killing myself and almost doing it a couple of times, I never got diagnosed. But you really dont need to be a genius to figure it out. I used to feel bad about self diagnosing, but at this point I just couldnt give less of a shit. Im depressed, I need help, and Im not getting any because Im too scared to speak out. Do you know that I thought about sending this post to my online friends? They dont know about any of this. Elec knows a fraction because I got drunk and told him a little about it, but the rest are clueless. Should I shatter their perception of me forever? Let them read about my deepest insecurities, make them feel my self-hate and fear? It wouldnt be fair. No one should have to bear this knowledge. You dont want to hear that your friend is thinking about ending it all in a goddamn tumblr post.

But I want to cry for help in some way. I need help, and I need it fast. I cant do this on my own. Its only been getting worse, and this has been going on for months. Im alienating myself from friends and family, Im even pushing away my boyfriend. Im tired all the time. I dont want to do anything at all. Do you know how scary this is? Laying in bed all day, not doing anything, and not feeling bad about it? Or rather being completely numb. I havent felt things in so long. I just want to feel again. This is another reason I love speed. It makes me feel things. Nothing else does that.

Was wär ich ohne drugs, was wär ich ohne drogen, wär ich endlich stark, oder wär ich tot? Ive been listening to a lot of Tj_babybrain. It speaks to me. I hear the music and scream the lyrics out into my empty apartment.

I started self harming when I was 13. It was a way to punish myself for being me. I got clean. One year ago, I started again, for the exact same reason. The last time I did it was december. I love the view of blood flowing from my body. It makes me feel like Ive finally done something right. If I punish myself, then I will be forgiven. Im sorry for saying that cringy thing. Im sorry for being weird. Im sorry for not attending the meeting when I promised I would. But dont worry, Im going to take care of it. You dont need to be mad at me, Im already mad at myself. Look, can you see? Im bleeding for you. Its a gift. Please, dont be mad at me. Please love me.

Im very tired. The alcohol is taking effect. Im a lightweight, literally and figuratively. I also dont eat a lot.

Oh yeah, thats another thing I do. Food is not a basic need. Dont get me wrong, everyone else deserves to eat no matter what, its just me who doesnt. I need to earn my food. Sometimes I wont eat properly for days to punish myself for not being productive. I once ate nothing at all for over 24 hours, then drank alcohol and almost blacked out while on call with my friends. I just hung up and went to bed.

I just shivered violently. Theres still a chill running up and down my body. Is it the speed? The alcohol? The lack of food? Who knows. The only thing I know is that I want to go to bed. Maybe Ill feel better tomorrow. Thats a joke, I wont. Theres less than a week between me and my first exam. Will I fail? Will I succeed? Theres still so much to do. I didnt do anything today. Nothing at all.

Im going to finish my drink, and then I'll head to bed. I'm so tired. I just want this to be over. I dont want to die, I just want to lay in my bed until the end of time. Is that too much to ask?

welp, here i am again to vent because no one will see it here. i need new friends, or friends in general. the ones that claim the title do only that, they claim it only. trying to talk to any of them is like pulling teeth, and trying to do something with them so i dont feel so fucking along is almost close to impossible. i feel like im at the end of my rope. maybe i do need to be medicated. maybe then i may feel something other than misery and numbness. maybe i'll just end it. only my family would really care, not that there are many of them left.

tw angry words, venting, not directed to any of you.

Why cant you just fuck the hell off?! For fucks sake “You computers the only thing you seem to care about right now!” NO FUCKING SHIT>?! ITS NOT LIKE IWANT TO BE AROUND YOUR UP TIGHT RUDE BITCHY ASS. NO FUCKING SHIT IM SPENDING MY FREE TIME ON MY FUCKING COMPUTER IM 3 STEPS FROM JUMPING OFF THE FUCKING BRIDGE 1.4 MILES AWAY. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING UCH I HAVE HELD BACK SO FAR THIS YEAR?! IT IS LITERALLY THE 14TH FUCKING DAY OF THIS MONTH AND I WOULD LIKE NOTHING MORE THAN TO PUT A BULLET INTO EITHER MY HEAD OR YOURS. YOURE A SHIT PARENT, YOURE A SHIT PERSON AND YOU FUCKING DISGUST ME. STOP BEING A PATHETIC PIECE OF TRASH AND STOP YOUR BITCHING AND COMPLAINING. YOURE A FUCKING BITCH. IVE LOST MY FAITH IN MY MAGIC IVE LOST MY WILL TO LIVE IVE LOST SASHA AND OTIS AND ANGEL AND BULL AND AMBROSIA LITERALLY ALL OF MY FRIENDS HAVE LEFT EXCEPT CAMERON, IVE GONE THROUGH 4 ABUSIVE BOYFRINDS AND AN ABUSIVE GIRLFRIEND SINCE WE MOVED TO THIS SHIT SHOW AND I AM NOT ABOUT TO FUCKING TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS SHIT SO HELP ME GOD I WILL FUCKING SCREAM. I AM STANDING AT THE EDGE DO YOU REALLY WANT TO FUCKING PUSH ME OVER THAT MOTHER FUCKING LINE?!?! WITH WHAT I ALMOST DID IN NTHE 8TH GREADE, WHEN I ACTUALLY HAD RESTRAINT, DO YOU REALLY WANT TO PUSH ME THAT FAR WHEN I DONT HAVE ANY?! WATCH YOUR FUCKING WORDS. STOP FUCKING COMPARING ME TO MY GODDAMN 9 YEAR OLD SELF. I WASNT FUCKING SUICIDAL BACK THEN. I WASNT DEPRESSED TO THE POINT PF NOT WANTING TO GET OUT OF BED NONE THE LESS FUCKING STUDY MORE THAN PROBABLY THE 60 SOME UNITS I HAVE TOTALED OF ALL OF MY CLASSES. DO YOU EVEN REALIZE HOW MUCH IT FUCKING HURTS WHEN YOU SIT HERE AND YELL AT ME ABOUT NOT STUDYING ON A FUCKING WEEKEND. SAYING SHIT LIKE, “YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING ANYMORE” “YOUR GADES ARE SLIPPING. YOU NEED TO FUCKING WATH THEM AND SPEND LESS TIME ON THAT COMPUTER” YEAH HOW ABOUT YOU GO FUCK RIGHT OFF A BRIDGE. THIS COMPUTER, THE PEOPLE ON HERE, THE WEBCITES I USE ON HERE ARE THE ONLY THING STOPPING ME FROM FLIUPPING MY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT. IF YOU COULD PLEASE JUST FUCKING DROP DEAD SO I DONT HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THE FAT SHAMING, THE RUDE COMMENTS EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY ABOUT MY GRADES, THE CONSTANT FUCKING WORRY OF IF I SAY SOMETHING WILL I GET FUCKING HIT THE CONSTANT FEAR OF “WILL THIS PUSH ME OVER THE EDGE?” IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD. COULD BOTH OF YOU PLEASE JUST LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK?! NEITHER MANDA NOR MY SELF FUCKING LOVE YOU. NEITHER OF US WOULD CRY. HELL I’D FUCKING PARTY. I’D GET DRUNK PARTYING TO THE FACT THAT I KNOW I CAN FINALLY BE FREE OF THE HELL YOU’VE PUT ME THROUGH FOR 16 FUCKING YEARS. I DONT THINK ANYONE IN THIS GODDAMN HOUSE KNOWS HOW MUCH RESTRAINT I HAVE RIGHT NOW, NOT TO SWALLOW THE 3 BOTTLES OF PILLS I HAVE, OR TAKE ONE OF THE 7 KNIVES I HAVE SITTING IN MY ROOM AND USE IT. IM FUCKING SHAKING AND FIGHTING BACK THE URGE TO CRY BECASE I JUST WANT A NORMAL FUCKING WEEK. I WANT A WEEK WHERE THERE’S NO YELLING. WHERE THERE’S NO FIGHTING OR ANGER OR THREATS. NO GROWLED WORDS OR CLENCHED FISTS WAITING FOR ONE MORE ARGUEMENT. I JUST WANT A WEEK OF PEACE AND SAFETY BUT I FUCKING CANT BECAUSE I CANT FUCKING LEAVE YOU ASSHOLES. BECAUSE “WE DONT HIT YOU. WE USED TO PUNISH YOU, YES. BUT IT’S NOT ABUSE. YOU WERENT A GOOD KID” I WAS A GOOD KID I JUST DIDNT FUCKING AGREE WITH YOU TWO FUCKSTICK. I DIDNT AGREE THAT A BACK HAND HARD ENOUGH TO KNOCK MY 156 POUND 14 YEAR OLD ASS TO THE GROUND WAS CONSIDERED PUNISHMENT. OVER A STIPID PAIR OF FUCKING EARINGS. I WANT TO SOBADLY, I DONT KNOW HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS BULLSHIT I CAN FUCKING TAKE. MANDAS NOT LIVING HERE ANY MORE. CAMERYN NEVER HAS TIME FOR ME ANYMORE, I HOPE THE SCUM THAT BROUGHT ME INTO THIS WORLD WOULD DROP FUCKING DEAD, I HAVE NO ONE HERE TO STOP ME. NO ONE. SO I FUCKING VENT ON A WEBSITE OF STRANGERS. i SURROUND MYSELF WITH FICTIONAL FUCKING CHARACTERS WHO HELP ME STAY FUCKING CALM AND FUCTION AND I THINK THAT MAKES ME FUCKING BATSHIT BUT IM NOT SURE AND IT SCARES ME. IT SCARES ME THAT I CAN SEE JEFFERSON SITTING NEXT TO ME CLEAR AS DAY IF I WANT TO, OR I CAN MAKE HIM COMPLETELY INVISIBLE. IT SCARES ME THAT I DONT EVEN KNOW IF THATS NORMAL BECAUSE IM AFRAID TO ASK SOMEONE “hEY, DO YOU BRING FICTIONAL CHARACTERS OR REAL LIFE PEOPLE INTO YOUR LIFE, LIKE, ALMOST IMAGINARY, BUT THEY HAVE FREE WILL, AND YOU DONT CONTROL THEM, OR IS THAT JUST ME?” IM FUCKING SCARED AND AT THE END OF MY ROPE AND I JUST WANT TO BE OK. I JUST WANT TO BE OK! I just want to be ok, and be able to function normally. I just want to be able to go day y day without having an attack, without wanting to cut or cry or die and I know it will never fucking happen. I know it will never fucking happen.  I just want to fucking get better....

dude i just went through p much the same thing where i supposedly abused my housemate daily and treated her horribly and shit even though i stayed so far out of her way i saw her like, once or twice a week tops and lost most of my friends over it so like... solidarity fam

thanks. 

im putting this under a cut cause its long, and i just need to vent for a minute)

I havnt actually spoken to her face to face in like a month, I got a mumbled ‘morning’ today before she left on her own to go voteor something,  because shes been busy with being in les mis then surgery and then away for work. and she (and friends) justifies her bad mood with ‘im just tired/stressed from this’ but of course i dont get a pass with being sick while in the middle of report cards or tired because its the end of the school year. 

shespassive agressive as fuck, its actually scary coming home to a house thats been angry cleaned (she also ropes friends into doing it rather than do it herself or speak to me about it). She was the one who introduced my boyfriend and i, we were all friends for almost a year before we started dating, and now hes not allowed to come to any nights out or in because suddenly theyre always ‘girls nights’. we also alll got a message about how to behave in the theratre for les mis about a month ago, which included ‘dont be all cuddley or sexual(???) in audience. not aiming this at anyone in particular but if the shoe fits’ which pissed the bf off to no end (not to mention the fact that hes ace so the sexual comment wasn’t even necessary…?) 

and im fed up with her acting like a spoilt child. If my ‘friends’ want to take her side in this imaginary one sided fight shes started then fine. I’ve explained my side of the story to a few of them but they still want to believe her