one of the things about having an unstable parent is that it can so easily ruin your future. you want to get out, but getting out takes having agency. it takes the resume and the grades and the stellar community service history.

but you have to choose your battles. you know if you sign up for an after-school activity, it'll be okay for a while, so long as the activity is parent-approved and god-fearing. over time, like all things, it will become an argument (i can't keep carting your ass to these things) or a weapon (talk to me like that again, see if you get to go to practice). sometimes, if you love the thing, it's worth it. but you also know better than to love something: that's how they get you. if you ever actually want something, it will always be the center of their attention. they will never stop threatening you with it. telling you of course i'm a good parent, i came to all of those stupid events.

you learn to balance yourself perfectly. you can either have a social life or you can have hobbies. both of these things will be under constant scrutiny. you spend too much time with her, you should be at home with family is equally paired with you're acting like this because you're addicted to what's on that goddamn screen. you cannot ever actually win, so everything falls within a barter system that you calculate before entering: do you want to learn how to drive? if so, you'll need to give up asking for a new laptop, even though yours died. maybe you can work on a computer at the library. of course, that would mean you'd be allowed to go to the library, which would mean something else has to bleed. nothing ever actually comes free.

and that bitter, horrible irony: you could be literally following their orders and it still isn't pretty. they tell you to get a job; they hate that your job keeps you late and gives you access to actual money. they tell you to do better in school; they say no child of mine needs a tutor. they want you to stop being so morose, don't you know there are people who are really suffering - but they revile the idea you might actually need therapy.

you didn't survive that fall the way other people would. you've seen other people scramble and get their way out, however they could. maybe you were made too-soft: the answer didn't come to you easily. it wasn't quick. it was brutal and nasty. some people even asked you why didn't you just work hard and escape during school? and you felt your head spinning. why didn't you? (they control your financial aid. they control your loan status. they love having that kind of thing). maybe in another life you got diagnosed sooner and got the meds you needed to actually focus and got attention from the right teachers who helped you clear hurdles to get up out of here - but for now? here?

the effort of trying. the effort of not-dying. that kind of effort was absolutely agonizing.

Sam, you’ve talked a bit about the anger that comes with going undiagnosed for so long, and with having parents that dismissed your struggles. I’m about your age and I recently told my mom that I am relatively sure I have ADHD and that I was looking into getting a diagnosis, and I was at least 60% expecting her to disagree. And instead she said. “Oh yeah, I always thought that.”

Like. ????? WHAT. WHY DID SHE NOT EVER SAY ANYTHING???? Also, she was a teacher for years, and she knows how much I struggled in school so I am just. I’m honestly not sure if this is better or worse than her trying to say I couldn’t possibly have it. Like, at least she acknowledges that I struggled I guess? :/ Anyways, how’s it going with you?

I mean, I'm a big fan of repression.

That's only partially a joke. I'm not a big fan of repression but I do believe in trying to correct negative/damaging thoughts when they can't lead anywhere productive. I'm not a "think positive" person per se, but...

Yes, I am angry I didn't get a diagnosis earlier, particularly since it's not like my family was ignorant about the issue. But meditating on that just makes me more upset, and discussing this with my mother is not going to be cathartic for me or productive for either one of us. Even if I just wanted to take out my anger on her, which is a childish but understandable impulse, it's not like she did it maliciously. She was doing the best she could alone with three kids to raise and she desperately needed at least one of them to be "normal", for reasons that have much more to do with her upbringing and mental health than anything to do with me or my siblings. 

And that's all a fucked up situation, but there's nothing to be done about the past. So when I feel annoyance or anger, I stop and think, okay, but there's no point in lingering. Get it out if you have to, but then let's move on to how you can repair that damage. Then I talk about it on here so other people will feel okay about it, and I try to practice compassion, to remember that my parents tried to give their kids a good life with the tools they had and with their own disabilities to deal with.

It sounds like you're in a different place than I am, so I don't know how helpful this is. Not that you really asked for help, it's sweet that you just asked me how I'm doing, but I like to be helpful anyway :) I think the anger you're feeling is normal; the "oh yeah I assumed you had a disability and DID NOTHING" situation is actually quite common, you're not the first person I've spoken to who's had that experience. But part of managing the anger is making a conscious decision about what to do when you feel it.

Pema Chodron, a Buddhist nun, wrote a book called Start Where You Are that I read about five years ago and which I've found useful in managing emotions about things I can't change. I think it gets overhyped as a self-help book, but that's not really how it functions; it's more about explicating a specific line of Buddhist reasoning and using Buddhist practice to accept the difficulty of the world without buying into helplessness over it. Part of that is learning to sit in the pain of unhappiness -- to acknowledge an emotion, experience it, and move into either using it for a productive purpose or letting it go. It's a practice that doesn't come easily, but it does seem to help, at least for me.

Funnily enough, I started writing the Shivadh novels before I had a diagnosis but I knew from the first novel that Jerry was neurodiverse. Writing him with ADHD, even as a supporting character, has been very helpful for me because like me he can't really talk to his parents about it, with a father who has passed and a mother who is in denial. But he's still a fundamentally likable person who gets to demonstrably mature over the course of the books, to achieve things he couldn’t before and be praised for it. It's very satisfying to write about someone who got a late diagnosis and that made his life measurably better. Because it has, for both of us! I would rather have this diagnosis at forty than never have had it at all.

So yeah I'm sad, and angry, and struggling, but crucially I'm not taking it out on myself or others, and I know that this is a temporary situation. These are feelings that will fade in time because they arise from grief for could-have-been, and it's worth the sadness and the anger to have the diagnosis and to finally have help. I can't help the failures and bad relationships and mistakes I made because I had a disability I didn't know about, but I didn't know about it -- and now that I do I can improve my life going forward. What I'm feeling now is passing; what caused those feelings is permanent, and from now on I'll understand myself better (and, at least in theory, have access to bomb-ass medication to help raise my quality of life).

i wrote a whole journal entry about this recently but i haven't been able to get it off my mind. it's really... odd that most of my religious trauma didn't actually come from my family. i mean, i definitely have more religious family members, one of whom leaves a particularly bad taste in my mouth about the whole ordeal, but for the most part they're actually very kind and supportive. that being said, i still do have a lot of trauma surrounding christianity. i went to a christian school all through elementary school (which honestly wasn't even the worse part compared to the summer camp they had, i still sometimes get memories from those experiences that freak out my friends). and once i finally did get to a public school, i wound up in the group of people made up of everyone who went to the Local Megachurch, most of whom ended up shunning me (in ways i didn't recognize until too late, of course) when they realized i wasn't like them, admittedly for other reasons. i mean, i tried being christian. i tried dedicating myself like them, and it always felt like a lie. and even when i was literally met with the most supportive christian i could imagine existing, who cares about me as a person before caring about converting me, it felt fake. all that to say, my religious trauma largely came from people outside of my family. it came from the people at my school who told me that a baby's first sin was crying, the people at my summer camp who tried to teach me to speak in tongues, the people i thought were my friends who dropped me when i came out as queer (or honestly just when they sensed i wasn't neurotypical), and especially the people who acted like they accepted me, only to turn around and not only deadname and misgender and talk shit about me behind my back, but then go out of their fucking way to convert to a religion which very clearly in their texts condemns the kind of person i and people i love are. my mom never pushed all this on me, and honestly it probably kept me from getting any worse than i already am. i mean don't get me wrong, she still fucked me up a bit (as most parents with their own issues and an undiagnosed autistic and mentally ill child would), though i know she tried her best. but all this compounds into me feeling, in a more tangible way than the usual with trauma, that i have not gone through enough to be traumatized. i know this is a general trauma experience, the self-protecting instinct of "it could have been worse, so this wasn't that bad". but it kind of hurts to have a situation where i have somewhat reasonable excuses to believe that. and i would never treat another person that way, it wouldn't even cross my mind to say "oh, your religious trauma didn't come from your family or being directly involved in a cult so it doesn't really count". but of course, i don't know how to afford myself that same leniency. i know, logically, that trauma is not some clear-cut thing, and what may not be traumatic to one person may be incredibly traumatic to another. but it just... feels like i'm not allowed to say that i have trauma in this particular way, because it doesn't fit the narrative that i hear everyone else talk about it. and i guess that's the case with a lot of my other trauma, too. my family loved and cared for me the best they could, and despite my mom's flaws i wouldn't even consider calling her abusive. so if i had such a good family life in the way i was treated, i feel like i shouldn't be allowed to consider myself traumatized.

Don't mind me just compiling a bunch of unfinished vent drafts into a finalized product ready for purchase~

It's crazy how for the first half, even maybe like 2/3rds of 2023 I felt amazing overall, the novelty of being out of horrible, multiple years-long situation and into a, realistically just kinda average situation, felt so great that it completely carried me emotionally for nearly a year. But ever since around August/September I've kinda slowly been receding back into that same depressive state I was before, my life has stagnated once again, I've traded one set of issues for a completely different, less familiar set, and I don't have any real clear solution for any of those problems that are within reach. Don't get me wrong I'm at the very least not trying to drown myself once per week yet, but I don't think that should really be the baseline of an acceptable quality of life.

I have a job I've very quickly come to hate that's also kind of consumed my life up until very recently, where I've had enough time off to realize that I've made virtually no progress in the last year outside of merely having a job. I've lost a sizable number of friends, in part due to my coming out as trans, and partly due to just a longterm buildup of disillusionment with those around me that just finally reached a breaking point, and some of the few still left in my life I don't particularly want to keep in my life much longer either, and after going several years socially isolating myself, I don't remember how to make new friends, even though I have several avenues to very easily do so if I actually put forth the effort. I likely won't be able to make any progress transitioning for quite a long time, despite deciding now would be the best time to come out for some reason, I still live with my father, and while I've spent months searching for a place to move out to, the renting market is abysmal and most of my prior options for roommates are either no longer an option, or I'm not particularly comfortable living with them now, and despite having a job that provides pretty good insurance, I am still undiagnosed for a million different potential mental illnesses that I should really probably be medicated for because I'm both too stupid and too lazy to figure out how to switch off my parents' insurance onto my job's, and I'm too afraid of hospitals after going probably close to 10 years without going to any doctor, outside of 1 visit to the optometrist 2 years ago after my old glasses finally broke. And I don't even really have much of a reason to change insurance plans right now when with each passing week I'm more heavily considering just quitting my current job, even though I realistically don't have any better options in my area.

So yea anyways life blows I miss my old terrorist friends (dear Tumblr mods; they were not real terrorists, they were merely g*y people on the internet, please do not nuke me thank you). In good news tho someone posted a map of informed consent clinics throughout the US so now I know there's one like 2 hours away from me, and while I'm still probably too afraid to actually go inside one, and also doubt I'd be able to literally just walk in and say "1 girl medicine plz :3" with any success at all, still good to know. I am so on the verge of wasting all of my savings on HRT without the assistance of insurance all for the bit >:). Also started doing 3D modelling again so like that's fun, didn't do that for a long time but now I have both the time and motivation and now I'm gonna make 5 million Veemon models and nothing else I hope Blender Guru dies fuck that guy.

Why is it so fucking big???

i also didn’t know i experienced childhood trauma until relatively recently. my panic disorder and other mental issues started as soon as i didn’t have to see my abuser (grandfather) anymore but obviously i didn’t know i was experiencing trauma from ages 4-11 so when i tried to look into what could be causing the panic attacks (~13) and particularly dissociation i was really confused and frustrated when it all boiled down to trauma because i didn’t think i had experienced any trauma like i hadn’t almost died or been physically abused. all those times with my grandpa never registered as traumatic to me i just thought he was kinda an asshole. but fast forward a decade and i stumble into therapy again and happen to get a therapist training in trauma reprocessing and EMDR. it took a long time to convince me because i had fully bought into the whole ‘chemical imbalance i was born with a broken brain’ narrative, but eventually we went through enough of my past and brought back some seriously repressed memories and i was able to kind of distance myself from it actually being my childhood and think ‘wow if i saw literally any other child being treated like this i’d at least think it’s fucked up but would probably end up kicking this dudes ass!’. and since that discovery a couple of years ago i’ve continuously remembered more and more little events and things i was told that i internalized that have really put my mental struggles into perspective. i was a poor defenseless kid with existing yet undiagnosed conditions that affect communication and emotional regulation that was being berated, sworn at, guilted, and threatened on a daily basis. of course i couldn’t do anything but try and survive to the next day. of course my brain would develop a maladaptive fear response to those in power over me or even those in close social groups like family is supposed to be. i still struggle daily and i haven’t really gone a day in my life without the ‘just make it to tomorrow’ mentality but reprocessing my childhood definitely helped me put those struggles into perspective and has transformed my everlasting journey towards getting better from one of heavy self-criticism and frustration with inadequacy to a sort of gentle compassionate healing that has allowed much more room for joy and passion over fear and avoidance. thanks for letting me literally trauma dump lol, i do hope some perspective helps though and this at least makes you feel less bad about sharing your story in your tags. stay strong friend :)

God, I'm so sorry that happened to you, but I'm glad you've been able to process some of it and come out for the better. ❤️ It really does help, knowing someone else out there is having a similar experience of the hit show "I Didn't Know I Was Traumatized." And when you said the thing about being fully bought into the "chemical imbalance broken brain" thing, I absolutely have too, and so have my parents, and they absolutely use it as an excuse. I keep writing out these long paragraphs that basically turn into trauma-dumping, and I'm not gonna bother everyone with that rn, but I guess it comes down to thank you for sharing your situation and letting me know I'm not alone. It's hard and it's weird, the more I think about it, to realize that my parents just. Tried their best, sure, but have fucked up in ways that are pretty much unforgivable to me, because they've wrecked my ability to form relationships, to care for myself, and to feel like I'm a real person who deserves good things. Maybe someday I'll be able to work it out, I dunno. I hope you're doing well, anon! ❤️

ziggy strutting up to me like this gif as i hold up a crucifix n say begone begone vile beast BEGONE from my vicinity i will NOT buy u a happy meal wretched little boy...... some live action rp to start this off..... and SCENE. takes my bow. his pinterest is here n his playlist is here.

* dylan minnette, cis male + he/him  | you know ziggy benson, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of his life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to hand crushed by a mallet by 100 gecs like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole glitching televisions impaled by remotes, nonchalantly texting the babes as a stove fire ravages your kitchen & cartoons turned up so loud it fries your eardrums thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 24th, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY;

from the second ziggy ws born he didnt stop screaming. within the first hours of his life he gave his father an ear splitting headache tht prompted him to say “that uncooked chicken’s fucking demonic” n joke abt popping “it” in the oven to roast. when this understandably received disgusted glances frm the nursing staff he ws all like “jeez alright alright i’m kiddin i’m kiddin can’t a guy have a joke around here?” n i feel like that sets up their dynamic so nice n sweetly <3 (sarcasm) (lips pursed)

frm day one he ws just honestly a rly hyperactive child. when he laughed he’d shriek it out at the absolute top of his lungs bc he’d just get this huge giddy surge of energy all the way to the very tips of his toes n it’d hit him like a shock from a fork in a plug socket. their parenting style ws rly just lazy tbh.... they didn’t have much time for disciplining him. ziggy’s mum wld halfheartedly be like “ziggy quiet now....” n then go bk to nuking whatever vegetables she’d defrosted until they tasted like dinosaur bones..... this wld not make any difference in ziggy’s behaviour

his father rly just took the stance that it ws ziggy’s mum’s job to discipline him or raise him in general which is. 🔪 please enter the 20th century sir.... get ur noggin sorted..... needless to say he wsn’t much involved in ziggy’s life n honestly generally jst didn’t like him. ziggy was a responsibility he didn’t want (accidental prregnancy) n in his literal words once said (blatantly while ziggy ws watching cartoons on the sofa) tht ziggy just “harshes my fucking vibe a lil bit”. 

he wound up leaving when ziggy was six ish.... ziggy watched thru a crack in the blinds as his mum tried to grab at his jacket to make him stay as he lugged out his suitcase..... she even tried to physically cling onto him so he cldn’t get in his ride bt the door wound up slamming n she sat on her knees watching the lights pull out the drive n even long after they were gone. ziggy didn’t rly kno what to do abt this (emotions hd never been smthn he particularly understood, his own or how to handle other people’s) so after watching her fr 5 minutes he went out n gently shook her shoulder n was like. mom come inside u look weird out here. FKGHSFHGSFHKGFHKSGSFGHK. this was him trying to show love <3

ziggy’s mum is like.... rly relationship dependent. she gets all her self worth n validation frm whtever man she’s dating.... so she went on this like.... wild rampage of jst. dating a very large string of men. they ranged frm dreadfully boring to downright awful n were always below her standards. ziggy quite literally hated. all of them. every last one. even one that tried to b nice to him by offering to help him do his math homework when he ws 13 (bc ziggy was struggling a lot w this) n in response ziggy loudly barked until the man gt scared n stumbled backwards into a dining chair on his way out of the room. KGHFHKSJHFJGSHKFG

while him n his mum hv a kind of strained situation (there’s a great deal of resentment from her end n kind of. blaming him fr “driving his father away” n it’s never spoken abt bt it’s very much Present in their relationship n honestly ziggy kind of resents her too fr bringing some of the men into their lives tht she did) there is. love there...... sometimes she’ll like. reach out to cup the back of his head n he’ll duck his head away n be like wtf are u doing checking me for lice? n she’ll jst smile like :)...... knowing that’s how he loves. KHSFGKJGHKSFGFHKGSHF. ugh we love men who know how to process their emotions yesssss king give us nothing <3

(abuse n violence tw) idk i won’t go into it too much bt even tho ziggy’s constantly like 🙄 when his mum shows him affection he wld quite literally. kill fr her n almost did one time.......... narrowly avoided getting charged w assault when one of her bfs was drunk n evil n he went into protective mode.... idk he. has gone thru a lot n seen a lot n so has his mum. they look after each other the best they kno how despite the negatives in their relationship.... it’s complex <3

literally got in trouble so. often. at school. he ws always hyperactive (undiagnosed adhd n also probably not helped by the fact he ws jst allowed to eat sm junk food w 459729457952 sugar percentage all hours of the day) bt when his dad left n like. dealing w acting out so severely at home where his mum’s bfs were concerned it rly escalated..... i jst think he ws like. literally a terror. probably got suspended so many times. maybe even was permanently expelled before he cld get his diploma honestly. set off a firework in school hallway. smthn absolutely reckless n stupid.

hs hd a bunch of jobs mostly in the service industry...... usually ends up getting fired.... worked at mcdonald’s fr a while n then one day he went in rly high n ate three cheeseburgers in front of a weeping child who hd ordered one.... promptly gt fired bt he ws like yo fuck this place i’m quitting n threw off his apron n was like who’s with me??? who’s joining the union??????? to the rest of the staff n they were all mostly like >_> <_< before security approached to forcibly remove him n he grabbed a cookie n crammed it into his mouth in rebellion mid frantic n frankly possessed escape.....

in terms of wht’s going on to this day w his living situation i honestly think he still lives w his mum. i can just see this. KHGFSKGHSFGKSFGH. in like. a ramshackle bungalow in delphinus heights.... having said tht she probably isn’t. there tht often nw she’s dating her latest man (jonas, somehow always sweaty no matter the weather, wears too many gold rings n smells like shoe cleaner) who owns a car dealership n thinks he’s a kingpin for it. still home sometimes tho.

PERSONALITY:

ziggy spends his days working shifts at an ice cream parlour (one he got fired from once bc he broke in high n ate sm ice cream he was lay on the floor in the bk pants unbuttoned stomach bulging sm calling himself garfield saying he had too much lasagna. they hired him bk tho bc he has a harem of middle aged women who lust after him n it brings customers....) or like. cruising parties...... setting off fireworks.... skateboarding...... breaking into abandoned buildings.... filming stupid jackass type tricks....... playing guitar hero...... getting drunk at the arcade..... sometimes busking fr cash in a tossed dwn hat (very badly) (thinks he’s sick at it however)........ or alternatively...... fucking chicks aha...... fuck.......... not exclusive to chicks tho just had to sound despicable bt :smirk: he’s bi Baby.... 

i won’t lie he’s kind of an asshole................ never rly was taught properly how to empathise with ppl so like he struggles w that....... sometimes he’ll say smthn tht’s genuinely just quite mean n doesn’t need to be said but he doesn’t rly realise it’s like bad. n he’s like. what’s the deal haha why are u mad...... 

fuckboy. genuinely jst. rly summarises it well. insatiable. sleeps around wildly. will say he’ll call u back n then will not call u back. lies like oh babe i’m moving to france tomorrow fuckkkkkkkkk sucks so bad that we can only have one night but let’s make it special yeah? tits? n then they’ll see him casually skating past them on the street a week later n be like well clearly he’s not in france. ziggy doesn’t care.

calls himself a “genius inventor” bc he once gutted a vintage analog television n made it into a fish tank. it literally leaked water a bit. still convinced he is a literal visionary never seen before never done again. he’s like i’m on the brink of greatness. i’m the next einstein.

has a bit of a god complex where he thinks he’s the sexiest person in any given room n it’s kind of funny bc like dylan minnette’s sexy to me bt tht isn’t a widespread opinion n ur being a bit bold ziggy...... regardless has confidence thru the roof tht isn’t rly deterred by anything or anyone.....

dyes his hair 49729572459752 colours every colour under the sun. sometimes all at once jst different patches. wears lots of tie dye tshirts n basketball shorts even tho he doesn’t play basketball. rly colourful sneakers. just lots of loud colours tbh. often wears a paper clip in his ear as an earring. pierced it himself. someone probably recorded him doing it fr his insta story. probably was drunk.

drives a vespa around tht is baby blue with pastel yellow polka dots. it has lots of tin cans attached to the back by string like on those cars when u just got married. he did not just get married. u can hear him arriving frm over a street away.

almost never pays fr anything bt is always like “yo it’s my treat” n then either dine n dashes or u have to pay

his idea of romance is nuking a hot pocket as breakfast in bed n then complaining he’s hungry n eating half

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

fuckboy antics: he’s insatiable. rabid. notorious. mayb they fkd n he didn’t call........ jst completely ghosted........ mayb they were genuinely into him n he honestly built up kind of false pretences abt them having a connection n then jst dipped..... cld  b good fr angst n drama <3 someone please egg his house he deserves it <3

high skl heathens: locals tht were equally chaotic in hs..... just picture him having this group of misfits tht were like so loud n always getting up to no good doing god knows what god knows where.... probably gt arrested together breaking into an old abandoned hospital one time........... rly just doing the absolute most at all times............. probably so loud........... drinking n smoking far too much.....

an attempted teenage relationship: i’m like. tentative to even put this one bc i just feel like ziggy wld be a shit bf. KJHGFSHGFHGSFHGFKGHFKSG. but. maybe it ended in drama.....i’d say this wld probably be a girl bc in hs he probably ws less open w his sexuality... maybe ziggy cheated on her or she cheated on him................ angst........ strife.... we love it we love it........ i crash my car into the bridge... i don’t care... i love it... sudden icona pop moment me stood on stage singing karaoke.... it’s just gone 7am as i write this so i apologise if this is losing any. coherency. smiles so sexy....

last adolescent plot i swear: i picture when ziggy was expelled he somehow amassed a large group to protest w signs outside the school fr him to be accepted back. it didn’t work. he threw a party when he received news he hadn’t got back in anyway. maybe ur muse was involved or helped organise this or was violently opposed.

enemies: ppl who just. don’t like ziggy bc like honestly that’s so fair n valid. KJHGFKGHKSFGHSGKHSFHG..... mayb he like. exploded their mailbox one time when they were younger. mayb he skated over their toes. mayb he fucked their bitch aha fuck................. (joking btw) (don’t condone misogyny) (hashtag feminism). cld be fun to play around w

fwb: probably hs a few of these......... mayb they’re cool w things being no strings attached n lax n at ease w ziggy being the mess tht he is in general..... mayb they want more bt ziggy cannot provide...... mayb they literally don’t get on at all n this is their only mutual ground n they keep coming bk to each other.... :smirk:..... whatever u Farncy....

maybe ziggy’s mum dated ur muse’s dad at one point???? we can discuss this if u think it fits..... cld be fun to play around w............

coworkers: past or present r fun..... mayb they were like WTFFF is this guy fking ONNN at a past job (he’s had a few in the food service industry so pretty open in tht area)... mayb they work w him at the ice cream parlour now..... cn discuss the dynamic probably wld be dependent on the muse involved fr like. how he’d act n stuff.... :yum:

For the matchups if there's still room? I'm bi/pan, non-binary (she/they) and very extroverted. I love EDM, particularly dub and trap, as well as classic and heavy rock. I love to draw and do all kinds of crafts, particularly fabric crafts. I'm really into cyber/ravepunk and vapourwave aesthetics and basically my whole existence is rainbows. I have pretty bad anxiety and backwards seasonal depression, ie: summer makes me sad, winter makes me happy. I hope that's enough! Thank you!

I match you with...

Donatello!! You two have a good amount of similarities when it comes to interests, and that’s initially what drew him to you! Your extroversion and positivity is also one of the big traits that appeals to him. You guys start off as friends, but over time it evolves into something so much deeper. He’s actually really caught off-guard when he realizes he’s falling in love. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, how could he be falling in love with you? 

I hope you like staying up late, because his best time to work is... at night! He loves staying up late with you while he works on his newest invention/research. You’re his personal DJ. <3 Wear that title with pride, because he’s super picky with his EDM. 

Loves to mess with you when it comes to classic rock </3 If Dani California makes its way into your playlist somehow, he’s gonna fuck with you a little bit. The intro always makes him snort. Hit him with a pillow, do it.  And God help you if something like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Led Zeppelin, or AC/DC comes on.  “Pulling out the cowhand tunes, I see? 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓪, 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓛𝓸𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓪-“ “Shut UP” (He ‘yeehaws’ in a REALLY monotone voice sometimes, and it kills you every time. he sounds so apathetic about it.... ok king)

The heavy rock (and Queen) can stay though. He is Not Immune to Freddy Mercury. He’ll drop everything for Bohemian Rhapsody. 

Loves your art! Whether its sketching from life, media, or from your head, he loves it. He keeps one of your pieces in his wallet, and one in the turtle tank as well. He likes those little reminders of you :) 

He has an affinity for the three dimensional, so he takes a big interest in your crafts & fabric crafts! He’s done his own fair share of sewing, although he isn’t all too good at it. (He sucks at hand-sewing, and he’s impatient when it comes to the sewing machine. He thinks there’s a more efficient way to do it, and there just... isn’t. He has a lot of respect for people who have the patience for fabric work.) It’s nice to work with him in the lab. 

He’s OBSESSED with vaporwave and cyberpunk. If you reflect that in your style... expect a fucking KISS. He thinks you look really badass. He definitely makes you some rad af iridescent clothing so you can get the futuristic look and rainbow look all in one. He likes to match with you, too. Matching jackets? Matching jackets! 

(He also makes Shelldon a little iridescent accessory... family style...)  King of sticky-note reminders. If you take medication for your anxiety, he’s really helpful at setting up routines to take it and remember it. If it has any side effects, he’s also the first to recognize them and help manage them. If you get by without medication, that’s also cool! He’s great at recognizing symptoms of panic attacks or just general anxiety, and he won’t hesitate to get you out of a situation when you need it. He’s very straightforward when asking what you need, and the calmness in his voice is a little infectious. 

I’m sorry, but he HATES the winter. He gets cold really easily, even compared to his brothers, so winter time is typically spent bundled up in his lab. And quite frankly, he might have undiagnosed seasonal affective disorder. But that’s actually kind of a good thing that you guys are reversed in that regard? Your happiness and positivity during the winter helps him out a lot. And in return, he’s 100% there for you during the summer time. 

One of his favorite things to do with you is dance on the rooftops at night. There’s something magical about dancing under the all-consuming cosmos with your lover, guided by the light of the moon. 

Nonbinary & Bi solidarity! He has both flags in his pen cup, and he likes to paint his cheeks & claws during pride month. He doesn’t have any pan flags since he IDs under bi himself, but he’s absolutely gonna find one for you! Pride month is so fun with him <3 

You’re the first person to know when he makes a breakthrough in something! And it’s so obvious on the phone as well: his words come out so haphazardly, still riding the high of discovery. 

PLEASE steal his hoodies, they’re so soft and warm. Plus, he’s legally obligated to kiss you if he catches you in one. It’s a win-win baby!! 

Huge fan of casual handholding. He also loves kisses on the hand: giving or receiving! His face will be so red if you kiss his hands, do it. 

[Hope this was okay!! I got so excited when I saw THE turtlemouse in my ask box <3 Like!!! <3 Sorry this took so long to post! D:]

Check Up Tag

Tagged by @peridottea91 for this lovely and thoughtful little meme, and since I keep forgetting to do EVERY other thing I've been tagged in, I'll do this right away. :)

How are you doing mentally?

Hmm....that's a damn good question. I have undiagnosed ADHD, which is probably the root of a lot of my struggles. Being an essential worker during a pandemic is a nightmare, to say the least. I'm Not Thrilled with my living situation and haven't been for a long time, particularly not since I realized the extent to which my identity and values clash with certain individuals I live with. I've fallen out of touch with people I care about but don't seem to hold me in the same regard. Some of my coworkers are driving me fucking crazy and I'm sick and fucking tired of babysitting a bunch of grown ass adults who either don't take the job seriously or take the job personally. I JUST WANT LESS DRAMA, FFS. All of this is wrecking my brain and the only thing to thrive during these uncertain times (*gag*) are my executive dysfunction, mood swings, disassociative (yes, that's a word because I just used it :p) tendencies, and Procrastination On Autopilot. If it wasn't for a few people on here, a few favorite YouTubers, and some new fandoms, I would have set a lot of things on fire by now. So, I've been better, but I've also been much worse. I'm just in a position to rail against the unfairness of it where I might not have been in previous rough patches.

How are you doing health wise?

Beats me. Haven't been to a doctor in years. I need ADHD meds, or therapy, or both. I've got some dental issues that give me trouble off and on. My mental issues occasionally impact my overall health, namely my motivation/energy/willpower to take care of myself, but setting reminders to do certain things is helping. My menstrual cycle is, and always has been, drastically irregular, which comes with more problems. Again, though, I've been worse, and having learned the hard way what emotional and mental consequences can come from physical neglect, I'm doing much better at self-care than I have in the past.

What are you doing currently?

Watching Tasting History on YouTube, doing this, contemplating another cup of coffee and potentially doing some writing, and recovering from a bowl of spicy ramen.

What is today's highlight?

I had planned on finally listening to the Mechanisms final album 😭 but I won't have enough time before work, so...postponed. I'll just see where the day goes.

(If you're comfortable) Post a pic of you! Or your pet!

Behold! A doggo!

Yeah, sure, she looks cute, but she's a tyrant.

Tagging @rhyatt-deauxtreve @jade-elite @slytherkins @raspberrymama @letsby. Pass or play, folks. ❤

not sure if you've answered this before, but how/when did you get into asoue or atwq? is there anything that really drew you into the two series? personally i fell in love with the writing style first and /then/ the characters and worldbuilding :'))

Okay.

cw: abuse mention, depression mention, anxiety mention

This is gonna sound bonkers, but it's true.

My parents loved Jim Carrey.

Dude's funny. Thought he was clownish amd exaggerated but whatever. My oldest sister remembered watching an old yet really good movie with him but it was odd and tragic but really good. She said that it seems like I'd like it because I was eccentric myself.

So we bought a bootleg cd and watched the 2004 film. I was 11 at that time, who has undiagnosed ADHD.

Well no shit I LOVED it and got obsessed with it so I researched more about it.

Received around +6000 points in psychological damages spoiling myself, so at that point began my obsessive hunt of completing asoue.

It was an impossible hunt. It's 13 books, all hardbound. If it's from an actual bookstore, it's expensive as hell. If it's from a book thrift store, still expensive as hell but within my range. Local libraries are virtually nonexistent. And they are really, really hard to find and get.

The first book I got was Book 3, and yep. I loved it.

However, with every book purchase, all of it not done in the order it was released, I recall gradually being depressed. I dunno if it's because I'm 11 and an idiot or it's due to the increasingly abusive situation I was in buuut it's likely a mix of both. Snicket's cynicism at that time... Despite being true and important, isn't exactly what I needed to read at that time.

I never really got to complete the series, although I received a lot of help from fellow fans trying to get me some copies (one was a stranger, but that's another heartwarming story entirely, God. And the other was actually @sandfordsmostwanted ). But I know how it went, more or less. I just never got the experience of reading it properly nor getting genuinely invested in it. Frankly speaking, it just wasn't for me. Hell it didn't even occur to me it was supposed to be a dark comedy.

NOW... On ATWQ... Well, despite the depression. I'm still obsessed with Lemony Snicket. And it was the Holidays, me and my family loves books, and we are out during an outing during the rare moments we have spare money. Now, dad has offered to buy me a couple of books, and ngl... I had saw a Lemony Snicket book and it was purple. I fucking love purple and Lemony Snicket so I grabbed it. The other book I grabbed randomly was the House of Secrets, because a.) I'm an idiot, b.) I was a pjo and hoo stan a few years earlier, and hey, it's a thick book, it's probably great, right?

WRONG. I hated that fucking series. Never have I read such a shitty fucking book and it was expensive as HELL. And I bought fucking TWO OF THEM before realizing my mistake. Christ. Do not waste your goddamn time, money, and effort to even bother giving a crap about the House of Secrets. If you saw one, run the other way. Or destroy it.

Now, I also didn't read ATWQ in order, hell, I didn't even read its second book in order because I'm a very foolish reader and guess. Guess what happened. I ended up with so many questions that's what. But the story was so good and the characters so well done, and there's so many about it that's clever and witty. It's also the most brutalized of my books becausd of how often I obsessively read it when I was younger. If anything, I liked the writing style and characters immensely better than asoue ever did for me. So, I ended up with another hunt for ATWQ books.

I think I bought 13 suspicious indcidents next, and then book 3, then book 1, and then book 4. It was not bloody easy finding the books, and they're all. Still. Expensive. As. Hell.

However I realized that as I read the books, I became an unbearably cynical, insufferable know-it-all. Just a huge asshole in general who doesn't give two dimes about changing their attitude (because that's how a 12 year old interprets 12 year old Snicket and models after him. Very stupid of me I know). But I was still Depressed, except it's Depressed 2x. And the ending was... Whew. Well, let's just say as a 12 year old abused and lonely neurodivergent kid with no friends happily consuming content of a group with close friendship and reading that ending was.... A special trauma in itself. I was extremely devastated.

12 year old me may be stupid, but not too stupid to recognize that reading the series is no longer healthy for me, be it psychologically or emotionally, so I stopped. It's also the reason why I ceased activity in this blog during 2015 (yeah I was actually there during the ATWQ heydays). It also gave me anxiety. God, the entire sellpoint of Lemony Snicket is being a bunch of store-bought Anxiety and Depression huh. (But I got out eventually thank goodness)

It wasn't until? Recently I reread the series, fallen in love with it again, now understanding it better as someone with improved critical thinking skills and has matured in kind. It's a damn good series, and hits absolutely different, now one can understand it.

It still hurts reading it tho. And I've got an entirely new set of opinions regarding several characters, now that I've reread it (Ellington, particularly. She's not exactly my fave character, but my understanding of her since I genuinely understand her situation has gained quite the upheaval once I've reread the series. Back then I sorta both loathed/pity her. Now I just pity and worry about her a lot, and want to punch Snicket in the throat. Damn.)

Either way, sorry for the super long rant. I'm so embarrassed. But that's the general gist of lore of the Pencil behind this blog :D nowadays I just make ATWQ art and daydream abt my AU

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Ophélie Evangeline Redgrave

Nickname: O, Fee

Birthday: 31 July 1992

Age: 28

Gender: Female.

Place of Birth: London, United Kingdom

Places Lived Since: London, United Kingdom; Saint-Malo, Ille-et-Vilaine, France

Current Residence: Kensington, London, United Kingdom

Nationality: British & French

Parents: Lambert & Sérephine Redgrave, née Callac

Grandparents: Harold Redgrave (grandfather, paternal, deceased)  Hélène de Broglie (grandmother, paternal, deceased) Aurélien Callac (grandfather, maternal) Ophélie Hervé (grandmother, maternal)

Aunts & Uncles: Charlotte, Georgina Redgrave (aunts, paternal) Anita Acton (aunt, paternal)

Number of Siblings: Three brothers; Sébastian Redgrave (38), Arnaud Redgrave (36), Gaël Redgrave (32)

Relationship With Family: Ophélie is closest to Gaël, her other two brothers see her mostly as the family fuck up although they all feel somewhat protective of her as the youngest. This was particularly meaningful during the wild years of her teens when an attention starved Ophélie might find herself in places or situations she was likely too young for, they were mostly all still at home and willing to come collect her from wherever and keep her secrets from their parents. Her father has always been distant, she sometimes fears he’d rather forget she existed. Her mother is overbearing and critical - after three boys she thought Ophélie was at long last the daughter who’d belong only to her, a little doll to shape as she wished. She was very wrong.

Happiest Memory: The freedom and acceptance she finally found in university, the Christmas and New Years she spent with Gaël in New York when spent a year at NYU.  

Childhood Trauma: oh boy - see this answer HERE

PHYSICAL:

Height: 5'4”

Weight: 110lbs.

Build: Slim - some might say too skinny

Hair Color: Blonde.

Usual Hair Style: loose curls, a careless, practiced ease. Sometimes she wears it up if she's bored enough, high ponytail when she runs

Eye Color: Blue.

Glasses? Contacts?: Neither.

Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): Expensive as fuck - if she had to choose a ‘style’ it would be classic. She isn’t conservative in the least bit, but she also isn’t one to go into more out there fashions - that is Gaël lane. She tends to favor dresses and skirts and more feminine looks. Ophélie caught in jeans is a very rare Ophélie. When she is home alone she is usually wearing a thin robe or some form of lingerie/pjs  

Typical Style of Shoes: Ophélie does not like to wear shoes. However, given that going barefoot is usually frowned upon in society, she can usually be found in heels that match whatever she may be wearing. If she is very close with someone she will take her shoes off the moment she enters their home, and at her own flat can always be found barefoot.

Jewellery? Tattoos? Piercings?: She has both of her earlobes pierced, as expected. At one point she had a cartilage piercing, but she long ago forgot to keep it open. Unbeknownst to her mother and most of her family, she has both of her nipples pierced. Ophélie will say to anyone who knows that these are her favorite piercings. She has a tattoo of a scorpion on the nape of her neck. Everyday jewellery includes a heavy men’s watch that belonged to her grandfather, whatever earrings she fancies on any given day, as well as rings. The one ring she wears at all times is made up of three interlocking circles - when she is anxious or focusing on something Ophélie spins this around her finger.

Scars: She has a scar on her shin from falling off a horse as a child. The most recent additions include a thin line across her chest/sternum and a nearly perfect large C in the center of her back - she plans on adjusting that soon.

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: When she is focusing, Ophélie will twist her ring around her finger. She has the tendency to curl her hands into fists and dig her nails into her palms. She also chews on her bottom lip, which has caused a significant investment in longwear lipstick.

Athleticism: Ophélie grew up playing tennis with her brother Gaël and got into running in her teens. She never does any actual races mostly because she couldn’t be bothered and also way too many people near her. It’s mostly a way for her to focus her own mind/punish her body.

Health Problems/Illnesses: She absolutely has an eating disorder from the unrealistic expectations of her mother when she was growing up. It is something she has struggled with most of her life that her friends are likely unaware of. Ophélie also has undiagnosed ADHD, PTSD, addiction issues that are yet to be explored.

INTELLECT:

Level of Education: BSc in Politics and Philosophy from LSE - it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to study but a compromise that got her parents off her back. If possible she’d want to go back to school for linguistics or art history.

Languages Spoken: English & French natively, Spanish fluently. Functionally fluent in Italian, a lingering understanding of Latin from prep school. She has a very good ear for languages and dialects and can pick them up quickly.

Level of Self-Esteem: Fluctuates between “I hate myself I’m such a bitch” and “I love myself I’m such a bitch.” No in between.

Gifts/Talents: Very good at languages and remembering things she’s heard if she cares enough to focus, weirdly good at crossword puzzles if she has the patience, has the ability to come off as unthreatening and use it to manipulate people.

Mathematical?: Hell no, she absolutely cheated her way through math and she is not at all sorry about it.

Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: Emotions, particularly whims. She does have a vindictive streak and while that is based on emotions she can adapt logic to her purposes is.

Life Philosophy: live fast die young bad girls do it well. No joking, she doesn’t really have one or doesn’t like to consider it, but if we had to define it, somewhere along the lines of ‘never let them see you cry’ IDK TBD

Religious Stance: Was raised Anglican, not really about it. Enjoys the art and melodrama of the catholic church.

Cautious or Daring?: Daring, boarding on reckless, she has the arrogant privilege of the very wealthy, that they are untouchable and almost immortal.

Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To: Her mother, people trying to lessen her or force her to be something she is not, her eating disorder/body image

Optimist or Pessimist?: says she's an optimist, mostly because she doesn’t let herself project any other way; deep down is def a pessimist mostly out of self preservation and years of building up armor

Extrovert or Introvert?: Extrovert.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Current Relationship Status: fucking her way through the french bros/leadership

Sexual Orientation: bisexual in that she is attracted to all beautiful women and men who are older, dangerous, and low key damaged.

Past Relationships: Only real/serious relationship was with Charles Jameson (alexa play champagne problems by taylor swift)

Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: being caught cheating whoops

Primary Reasons For Breaking Up With People: boredom, afraid of getting to close

Ever Cheated?: yep, and if not for the way he reacted she might actually feel guilty about it.

Been Cheated On: not that she knows of

Level of Sexual Experience: very high and no she will not be slutshamed thank you very much

Story of First Kiss: A boy she met while staying with her grandmother in France. She was 11 and kissed him on a dare.

Story of Loss of Virginity: She’d just turned 14 but told him she was older, it was mediocre at best but she loved the rush of power she felt when she turned him down the next time.

A Social Person?: Very - she literally wouldn’t be able to do her job so well if she wasn’t. Plus shes a slut for attention and once you cross the threshold between casual friends and very close friends - she’s loyal as fuck.

Most Comfortable Around: Paul for sure, although she feels safe and comfortable with most of the frenchies she knows well - Noa, Laurent, Guillaume, Delphine, Sofie - its Paul she goes to first, her ride or die bitch. Outside of the French she feels comfortable around Spencer, shockingly, and within the family it's only Gaël who she feels she can even be remotely herself around.

Oldest Friend: Camilla Berkeley, her brother Gaël. Most of the people she knew through grade school and her teens she grew bored of or dropped for Paul and the French.

How Does She Think Others Perceive Her?: Dancing right on the knife’s edge between hot and hot mess; a fuck up; shallow and vain. For those who know her well she often fears they think she might be stupid or reckless, not as devoted as she actually is.

How Do Others Actually Perceive Her?: Literally dancing right on the knife’s edge between hot and hot mess. Those closest to her often think she’s smarter than she herself does, hopefully they also value and recognize her deep loyalty. All should think she's a great time.

SECRETS:

Life Goals: To be happy and find something and someone that makes her happy.

Dreams: That she will stop letting the negligence and cruelty of her parents - mostly mother, hurt her. That she will matter to someone, be loved and wanted for exactly who she is and not who they think she should be or who she pretends to be.

Greatest Fears: Being abandoned by those she loves,  being hurt by those who should care for her, never being seen for who she is. Horses - she had a bad fall as a child and doesn’t trust them.

Most Ashamed Of: The walls she builds out of self preservation, lying to her brother when he only wants to help her.

Secret Hobbies: Puzzles - the more pieces and complex the better. It isn’t really that much of a secret because there is usually one in progress on the unused dining room table. Collecting first editions of her favorite books - it's a secret because she is usually too impatient to find a better deal or negotiate and will literally pay whatever the seller asks for it, usually above what it is worth.

Crimes Committed (Was she caught? Charged?): She has never been caught or charged, but possession with intent to distribute multiple illegal drugs, selling said drugs for organized crime. There was also that one time that she may or may not have led a man to his death, which although she has done her best to block this memory, would likely make her an accessory to murder.

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

Night Owl or Early Bird?: Both really,  but that's the insomnia and stimulant usage.

Light or Heavy Sleeper?: light sleeper when she’s alone, heavy if she’s sleeping with someone she trusts

Favorite Animal: penguins

Favorite Foods: strawberries, champagne,

Least Favorite Food: anything mint

Favorite Book: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Least Favorite Book: any of the myriad of self help books well meaning psychiatrists have suggested

Favorite Movie: Heathers, Jurassic Park  

Least Favorite Movie: emotional porn - aka any movie specifically designed to make you cry without any profound or complicated themes other than ‘life is short’

Favorite Song: Kyoto by Phoebe Bridgers

Favorite Sport: she’s a tennis bitch for sure

Coffee or Tea?: coffee although she does like tea

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Ophélie is allergic to peanuts rip  

Type of Car She Drives: lol no one let this bitch drive

Lefty or Righty?: Left

Favorite Color: the champagne sheer of the sun pushing through the curtains in an early morning, baby pink of her favorite peonies, rich red velvet of box seats at the opera, the soft golden grey of art museum marble floors.

Cusser?: Yep - but controls it around her family because she doesn't have the patience or stamina for the lecture/scandal it would cause her mother.

Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: Never smokes, drinks pretty often, regular cocaine use since her teens, a more recent venture into pills.

Biggest Regret: Letting it go on so long with Charles, the fact that she still lets her mother’s cruelty hurt her, not going to school for what she actually was interested in.

Pets: two italian greyhounds named Pogo & Banana

My personal connection with Taylor’s discography, part eleven: Happiness

Basically this is just a series I’m doing where I write down my feelings on what each of the Taylor songs means to me personally on a line to line basis both for my own sake to have it somewhere and for anyone who wants to know anything further about me.

So with that in mind, let’s get started.

Happiness

So much like the majority of Evermore and Folklore, Happiness reminds me of my family and the trauma of losing them which I’m trying to move past. Particularly, Happiness is the connecting point of the progress I’ve made moving forth and the reality that there’s still a long way to go and wishing I was further along the recovery road.

 Honey, when I'm above the trees I see this for what it is

I feel like this lyric is pretty much what it’s like on ‘good’ days. Like when I have removed myself enough from the situation and pain, I can rationalise to myself that what happened to my family wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just a bunch of well meaning people who made choices they thought were for the best but ultimately did more harm than good. I can also acknowledge that what happened was probably for the best and that while I’m in pain now, it probably would have been worse otherwise.

But now I'm right down in it, all the years I've given is just shit we're dividin' up

But most days aren’t ‘good’ days. Most days, it feels inescapable that I gave between 16 to 23 years to these people that were meant to love me unconditionally for my whole lifetime just for them to decide that what we had wasn’t worth sticking around for. Most days, I can’t move past the bitterness that I have knowing that I feel like I’ve wasted my life because genuinely lived my life as a mirrorball and gave my all to make these people happy and keep us together just for it all to fall apart anyway.

Showed you all of my hiding spots

I’ve always been an oversharer that kept her heart on her sleeve. I genuinely feel like I showed my family, and especially my immediate family, every version of myself. My highs, my lows, my strengths, my weaknesses, my likes and dislikes; I showed it all.

I was dancing when the music stopped

I’ve mentioned this a few times in this project, but despite the issues my family had, I really fucking believed we’d get out of this okay and that the others wanted to. And I wore rose coloured glasses as things were ending and people were showing their true colours because I wanted so badly to believe that it was just a bad fight and once things cooled down, everyone would pitch in to fix things. So when it finally hit that none of them truly wanted to fix things, I realised that the music had stopped years beforehand and I had just been living in my own fantasy world dancing to a beat that wasn’t there.

And in the disbelief, I can't face reinvention. I haven’t met the new me yet

I saw a post recently that said this line is pretty much Right Where You Left Me condensed into one lyric and genuinely I have not seen anything more correct in years. Like I am still sitting here nearly six years after this started and nearly four years since I finally accepted it (god realising it’s been that long hit me like a fucking truck, not gonna lie) wondering who the fuck am I meant to be now? Like even without feeling like I devoted my life/existence for these people, who are you meant to be if not a reflection of the people who raised you and were meant to love you unconditionally?

There'll be happiness after you

I know I will get my balance back one day and be happy. There’s a lot of practical steps that need to happen first, but I know I’ll get there. And even though I wish it was with my family, I’ve accepted that it won’t be and it can’t be dependent on them or else I’m going to end up like my mother and never happy.

But there was happiness because of you

As much as I still cuss out my family, particularly my father, I grew up as a daddy’s girl and family orientated person and not all of that was negative. Though I can’t currently look back at them without crying, I have photos of birthdays, concerts, events, holidays and even just random day to day life at home that brought me so much joy. Likewise, though not directly involved, I would not have had one of the best experiences in my life of going to Japan with my school had my parents not cared enough to work their ass off for it. And though it’s hard to remember at times, especially on bad days, that is just as important to remember as the fact I’m going to be happy one day if I truly want to heal.

Both of these things can be true

Like I said, both past and future happiness is important and doesn’t negate each other. I can accept that someone from my past that made me happy isn’t going to be the one that does it in my future without either being more or lesser than the other.

There is happiness past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall

Growing up in a mentally, emotionally and at times physically abusively household has left me with a lot of scars and while there’s no way to ‘prove’ it, I genuinely believe was the start of my then undiagnosed PTSD as opposed to the events of 2011. While ‘terror in the nightfall’ can directly be linked with the PTSD symptom of having chronic nightmares, I also link it just as strongly with general self doubting thoughts. Like I am very much still in a place where despite wanting to, I constantly question whether I should get married and have children or even just make new friends because I don’t feel worthy of it. All it would do is fuck over these other people. Because like end of the day, if the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally for my whole life didn’t, why the hell would anyone else?

Haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime

I will love my family forever. And genuinely, if they hadn’t of left, I would have done anything to make them happy for the rest of my life. And the fact that I do not get the chance to do that haunts me, and while I can never know for sure, I genuinely think it haunts them too.

Leave it all behind and there is happiness

Though it’s been hard, I’ve reached a point where I recognise that if I want to be happy, I need to leave behind the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what’s “meant” to be’ and focus on what is and the people who want to be in my life.

Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?

Like I mentioned, I grew up as a daddy’s girl. Growing up, he was always the ‘fun’ parent. The one who was smiling and laughing all the time. The one who propped me up when I felt down. The one I really thought believed in me. But somewhere along the lines, he took offence to me wanting him to step up and face his choices so that we could fix our family. And as a result, he took joy in, in his own words, turning my sister against my mother and I and pushing me to still see him in order for mum to get spousal payments before the legal settlement out of spite. So I spent years begging him to be different, really thinking it was just a moment of hurt just for him to take pleasure in it.

When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

I’ve hinted at the fact that my mother is still less willing to recover and move past what happened with my family. Consequently, she’s spent the last 5 ½ years being like a bull seeing red at all times. And though I’ve tried everything I could to help her (literal hundreds of letters to politicians and other related parties to step in, reaching out to family, constant meetings with lawyers etc), even going as far as to go to law school hoping to find a solution there. But none of it panned out like we hoped. And because richer people with better connections, more money and “smaller” issues that are unrelated to ours won their cases in court and because I’m fighting for future laws to prevent this happening again rather than the unwinnable battle with my now fully adult and moved on family, suddenly it’s my fault things turned out like they did. She genuinely believes I did not try hard enough and did not care enough about my family, and particularly my sister, when in reality, losing her was, is, and always will be the biggest heartbreak of my life.

I hope she'll be your beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you

I’ve mentioned in a few other posts that both of my parents have, in their own way, raised my sister and I to be rivals rather than sisters. And so when my father chose to not reunite our family, it felt like he was picking her over me. And in my bitterness, I spent a long time making comments about how she was either just as bad as he is and using him financially or she was an idiot who couldn’t see through his bullshit and was fine being nothing more than a trophy so long as she was his favourite.

No, I didn't mean that. Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury

With time and distance away from my father and the refusal to constantly lend myself to my mother’s negativity however, I realised that I really had been aiming my anger at the wrong person. My sister was 16 when she left. A literal child. Each and every adult in my family, my then 20 year old self included, owed her more than what happened. Even if she was a “problem child” who physically and verbally lashed out, we owed her more and we failed her. That’s the part about all this that will haunt me forever. It’s not what happened to me. It’s what happened to her and the ways I let my anger and my parents cloud my vision to the point I know in my heart that things would have been different and I could have done more to save this family had I not. And I know that that anger probably traumatised and provoked a lot of my sister’s actions too. And in all honesty? The anger probably came from a place of projection too because in realising my father would rather stick with his lies than his family, I had to accept that I had been the fool that spent years soaking up praise about my achievements just to find out that’s as far as his ‘favouritism’ of me went.

You haven't met the new me yet

I somewhat joke about it, but I genuinely feel like I became a new person in 2019. Though I’m obviously not like magically healed from the trauma or anything, and while I don’t ever see a way I can have these people in my life again, on the most part I have a new outlook on everything. On top of no longer blaming my sister, I’ve been putting the focus back on myself both in terms of things I could have done differently but also doing my best to not see my family’s decision to lie and take the easy way out as being a reflection on me. Because ultimately, it’s not about me; and it took me a long time to realise that. And there’s a sense of peace in that which is the first of many parts that they won’t know about me. And in many ways, that feels like the first step to rebuilding myself.

There'll be happiness after me

Much like how my life has kept going, so has theirs. My now nearly 22 year old sister has a son who’s about to be a toddler. She has friends I’ve probably never met. My other family members probably have just as fulfilling relationships and memories that I’m not part of. It’s sad, but that’s how life goes.

But there was happiness because of me

Again, just like how my anger doesn’t negate the positive memories I’ve had with these people, realistically it’s doubtful that every second of the 16 – 23 years they knew me was neutral at best for them.

Both of these things, I believe

Logically you cannot have one of the above and not the other. Like despite what my mother thinks, you do not just stop being happy one day just because someone, or in this case many people, left. But that new happiness you have doesn’t make the old happiness any less honest. Also just in general In still in a place where like I really have to believe that my family loved and were happy with me but also happy now or else I’ll have a mental breakdown. So yeah…

There is happiness in our history, across our great divide there is a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light from the dress I wore at midnight

Like I’ve said, I have had a lot of good memories with my family, and with them being night owls and our Christmas day events at my uncle’s tending to run for 10 – 12 hours, the use of the time of midnight feels all the more personal to me. And while like I said, these fond memories aren’t enough to go back to that environment, they’re enough to be a light in the dark that reminds me that I’ve been happy before and illuminate the way across the divide to be happy again.

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

Listen, I will probably blame my father and other family members for the rest of my days over what happened. But with the new me that came in 2019, I’ve also accepted that focusing on that both internally and feeling the need to demonise them to everyone by acting like they were the only ones to make bad calls and that some of those calls didn’t come from a well-intentioned but misinformed place doesn’t make any of the pain go away. Even if they were the devil personified, I cannot change what happened. All I can focus on is myself and my future. And that’s the only way I’m going to heal and find peace.

I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven

Despite everything that happened in my childhood before the split, I am someone who got through it still loving my family and not feeling traumatised by them (or at least not processing it as such) until my adulthood. And while that may seem very bare minimum for a lot of people, it’s also a lot better than a lot of people had it.

And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties

I know a lot of people see this as a sexual line, but I gotta be real, from the first listen, I pictured the moments where I held/hugged my sister through anxiety attacks and lash outs and my father did the same for me. And again, despite that intimacy, we’re now in a place where we’re only polite in public (not that I’ve seen them out but if I did) in order to not cause a scene/get chucked out of wherever we were. Also, I can see this being how my father viewed all the awkward silences (which I spoke about in my It’s Time To Go post) and whatever when I did go to see him after my parents separation, because again, it did feel more like obligation than actually wanting to be there and while I know he somewhat caused that by deliberately keeping the family apart, I still feel bad over it.

No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him, too

Even the worst of families never expect things to blow up in the way my family’s relationships did. There isn’t and probably never will be a manual on that shit. And there’s an inherit loneliness about that because while your other loved ones can stand by your side, ultimately you gotta go through that shit alone because no one really knows what to say. So all the guilt, anger, depression and whatever else you’re feeling is exactly that: yours and yours alone. And that makes it all the rougher.

But now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head

After my sister and father left, my mother couldn’t bare to sleep in her and my father’s old room nor my sister and my old room; instead opting to sleep in the lounge room. As a result, I moved into my parents’ old room. Though I have all new furniture, it’s set up in much the same way my parents had it and so it’s hard to not think about how my father slept in the same place I am now for 20 years of my life and the same can be said about my sister being in our childhood room for 16 years of her life. And while I’m somebody who has blocked out the ability to cry over most emotions, I’m still someone who cries very easily when I’m frustrated which as much as I wish I wasn’t, I still am frustrated and have cried more tears than I’d like to admit over how easy it should have been to keep our family together and how they just didn’t want to. And because there is that bitterness with the frustration, it does feel far more toxic than regular tears.

After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve blamed myself a lot for decisions I should have made differently in this process, so I see this more as a line to remind myself that I did all I could. Like I took the ‘nice’ route with the adults in my family only to be rejected, I tried the assertive route and was only met with being cut off, and even if I took the ‘nice’ route with my sister, there is no reconnecting people who do not want to be. They all made their choices and could have come back at any time to hear our side even if they didn’t want to at the beginning, but again, taking the easy route was more important to them than taking the right one and no amount of me giving them what they wanted was going to change that.

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness... and I think she'll give you that

This is another fantasy moment for me. Like I really hope that one day I can forgive my family. Not to be in their life or anything, that ship has sailed. But just for my own peace of mind. I feel like I’m almost there with my sister, but honestly? It feels like I’m never going to get there with the rest of them. Alternatively, I see this line as again, being about forgiving myself for the bad calls I made, and while I’m not quite there either, I definitely think I will get there someday.

TW/CW: COVID-19, poverty, (lack of) government benefits, brief description of shitty mental health & poverty

story time. i just need a moment to be frustrated about money, and because i can’t be the only one in this situation.

i feel kinda screwed over right now. i’m in a financially worse position than i was last year (like so many of us!), yet i still don’t qualify for canada’s response benefit (CRB). according to the way eligibility is calculated, i « make too much money » to qualify for aid.

the basic breakdown is, you take your average weekly income from 2019 or the past 12 months, divide in half (50%), and check it against what your average weekly income is for the 2-week period you’re requesting aid for. if your average weekly income in that 2-week period is less than 50% of your average weekly income of 2019 (or the past 12 months), you qualify.

at first, it makes sense, until you look at what the government qualifies as income. it doesn’t take into account any other form of government aid (disability, pension, etc.), particularly student loans, all of which contributes to a person’s ability to stay financially afloat.

i was a full-time student in 2019, meaning every month, my provincial gov’t sent me money, and that money went to tuition, food, housing, etc. basically everything. pinching pennies, eating a lot of beans and rice and taking advantage of my uni’s soup kitchen meant i was able to swing it so that i didn’t have to work during the school year, and only work in the summers. cool. but that means i was only making an « income » (according to what is counted as income for the purposes of the CRB) in the summer, and very little at that, if that’s all that is counted for the entire year. you’d think that would help me qualify for aid.

fast forward to today. i’m studying part time, which, in my case, means my provincial gov’t sends me barely enough money to pay tuition, and that’s it. once in sept, and once again in jan. no monthly financial aid. so i have to work during the school year. cool. loads of people do it, because loads of people have no other choice. it sucks, and it interferes with students’ ability to do their best work in uni. but you do what you have to do.

how does this relate to the CRB again?

now that i’m working throughout the year, my « average weekly income » is higher than in 2019, despite the fact that i’m working reduced hours and am limited to one contract due to the nature of my work & COVID (in the summers, i had up to 3 regular contracts). without monthly students loans and summer work, there was no way i would have financially made it through 2019. but because i can’t factor the actual amount of money i was working with into my « average weekly income » for 2019, the money i make right now (which is less than i had when i had loan support) makes me ineligible for gov’t aid in a fucking pandemic.

now, i could have chosen to continue on as a full-time student and collected monthly student loans, but there was no way i was capable of taking a full online course load. last semester i took half the number of classes, and was still overwhelmed. this semester, i’m still at that half load, but my mental health is withering away, and i’m not confident i can swing more than one course at this point. even for the money, it’s not worth throwing my grades away for classes i may have to repeat later because i’ve failed them and tanked my GPA. bye bye any dreams i had of grad school.

in 2019, my mental health and undiagnosed and untreated adhd (at that time) made it extremely difficult to live alone. i was not healthy. i didn’t eat well, sleep well, and had many breakdowns and burnouts. having to assume the full cost of living alone meant that i was bordering on financial deficits most months.

in many other ways, i’m better off than i was in 2019. today, i’m living with roommates/chosen family who all have some combination or other of mental illness and neurodivergency. so i’ve got people, and understanding, and i don’t have to manage the upkeep of an entire household and myself at the same time while staying fed.

/rant

(and if anyone reading this is itching to respond with comments blambing me for my situation, you can stuff it and keep scrolling)

So I saw a post on here talking about how, when you take the shit Geralt says in the TV series at face value, it’s unbelievably hurtful and cruel towards Jaskier, just, downright mean, and callous, and designed to make Jaskier feel he’s wasted two decades of his life.

But I hate that, because it makes me sad, and on a rewatch, I found an alternate take.

So whether Geralt is neurodivergent in a way we recognize clinically (ASD perhaps? I won’t address that here, but I love Autistic!geralt headcanons), or whether he’s just built himself a particularly abrasive method of interaction over 100 years of shit, prejudice, and abuse, his really rough, rude abrasive words towards Jaskier are not genuine.

And I would expect/choose to believe, that if Jaskier has continued their companionship over two decades, he has not only recognized this about Geralt, but decided he’s more or less okay with it.

So I had the thought particularly during the djinn episode– saw it pointed out somewhere, how un-comforting Geralt is when the elf-healer tells Jaskier the Djinn-curse can kill him. Jaskier turns, desperate, scared, says “fuck, Geralt!” and Geralt sort of awkwardly pats him on the back and says “yeah, we’re not gonna let that happen” in a fairly begrudging way, as if suggesting that the whole situation isn’t that big a deal.

So what if that response has less to do with not caring, with being callous towards Jaskier’s life and fear, and more with either a genuine awkwardness and discomfort with the idea of comforting someone, he really doesn’t know what to say, he’s not used to being a comfort (most ppl are scared enough of him that even when he rescues them, they’d still prefer he left than comfort them in any way), and he’s probably received very little comfort in his life, doesn’t know how to do it, and is barely experienced with the idea of admitting one might want or need it.

And/or, we see the candid, unemotional way he reacts to the ghoul bite in ep7, to the knowledge that he’s seconds from death. So clearly the smooth, stoic, sarcastic, unaffected thing is his usual method of handling scary shit. He doesn’t even raise his voice unless it might help (i.e. out-yelling Yennefer to be heard over the djinn-hurricane, hoping that he can persuade he to give up the really terrible course of action she’s on that’s gonna kill her).

So the other part of it could totally be a case of him downplaying the danger, trying not to think, speak, allude to, mention the danger, possibly as his own coping mechanism (a lot easier to be “fearless” when you repress the shit out of whatever might scare you. if you never let yourself think about the possibility that things might go horribly wrong, then it’s a lot easier to conduct yourself as if nothing bad might happen).

So when he awkwardly pats Jask on the back, distractedly, begrudgingly, patronizingly says, “yeah, we wont let that happen.” It’s genuine awkwardness, and/or a coping mechanism to not let himself think about how bad it is (focus on the solution, not the problem, solve this one, and then the next, etc… he’d do a good job surviving alone on Mars, I think), and/or an attempt to keep Jask calm by not validating his panic, like how if you don’t make a big deal out of a kid’s scraped knee, sometimes then the kid doesn’t panic either and it’s fine.

And likely Jaskier has been his companion long enough to know some of that, maybe even to actually be comforted by Geralt’s lack of panic. Imagine how goddamn frightening it’d be if your super brave/tough/stoic friend actually looked scared.

(the line, when the elf dude starts talking about how in love with Yennefer Geralt must be, when Geralt says “you’re making me uncomfortable?” It’s definitely a funny line, but also it’s possibly genuine. Geralt genuinely expressing himself)

And then later in the episode, Jaskier delivers that line about “wait, is this the moment you decide to finally care about someone other than yourself?” We literally saw him drop everything, ride across the countryside (putting you on Roach, which he never does), seek help from several unknown sources, including this sketchy sorceress chick (and he admits to her and the audience that his concern over saving Jask’s life was such that he A: skipped the opportunity to seek help for his tortuous insomnia issue and B: was more than a bit willing to sell himself into indentured servitude/ something that looked a bit like prostitution)…

Like, fuck off, it’s clear he cares an awful lot about you Jask, and you have to know that. so are YOU being cruel back? or, are you playing along with what Geralt seems to be comfortable with, caring about you so long as neither of you look at that straight-on, or make him talk about it.

-

okay, so than the mountain-top divorce. like, Geralt’s p harsh through a lot of that episode, but there is a tiny bit of playfulness I think still in that dig about worthy travel companions. And if this is a method of talking to each other that they engage in regularly, that Jaskier willingly keeps subjecting himself to…

and then Jask comforts Geralt after the mountain crossing, and when he floats the bit about them traveling together again (maybe implying that these recent adventures are new-ish again, perhaps after a period of separation, perhaps Geralt is extra harsh… perhaps this is a normal-ish thing that Jask has noticed, that Geralt is always more brusque, more accidentally hurtful rather than just dry, right at the beginning or end of their travels together, a defense mechanism of sorts? protecting himself from the pain of separation he’s trying not to acknowledge even exists?) anyway, he floats the line, and I’m p sure Geralt nods.

Jaskier seems to know him pretty damn well.

So none of this makes what Geralt says not shitty, and not hurtful, but rather than let myself wallow in the idea that Jask is completely devastated, feels he’s wasted twenty years of his life on a person who is literally ready to throw him away…

Hopefully not. Hopefully he knows Geralt well enough not to… not to give him a pass, necessarily, Geralt def needs to learn from and atone for that really gross behavior… but enough to know that Geralt’s just very bad, unpracticed, and a bit oblivious when it comes to hurt feelings, to understand that Geralt’s just in a shitty toxic place, that it’s got nothing to do with Jask, that the best thing for all of them is for him to remove himself as a target and let Geralt sort his shit out in his own.

That Jask knows this is one of those times where he can trust his friend with his body, but not his feelings/heart.mind/energy, and he needs to take care of himself first.

So hurt, yeah, but not like devastated, knowing that Geralt didn’t mean his words, but did mean, in that moment, to hurt Jask genuinely and drive him off, not in the light-brusque-teasing way that they sometimes have between them. Knowing both that Geralt was reacting to Yennefer, to other hurts, not to Jask, but also knowing that Geralt was willing to put his own momentary vindictive satisfaction over Jaskier… and so knowing that is was time for them to part for a while, for his own sake. That pushing through at this time was gonna be more masochistic than beneficial or productive, so it was time to look after his own mental health.

Like, this is sort of a pattern I’ve seen in folks in the real world. There’s someone close to me who struggles with some nasty bipolar shit (he’s not found a good med combo for him yet, and even when he’s in a more healthy place, lots of his tools and learned behaviors are mostly crappy still from years of this barely coping while undiagnosed), and sometimes he’s cruel as hell, usually when he hates himself the most, and is lashing out partly in an attempt to get you to say nasty shit back, and justify both his resentment of you, and his belief that he is a worthless shitty person.

And when he’s in those periods, it behooves many of us to just… walk away. like, if you can be/are willing/able to be the person that supports someone through that kind of shit, that’s totes your call to make, and might be a really awesome thing for that person (and that’s where professional help and support can also be awesome! Ppl who have trained to be able to hear the bad shit without taking it personally, and to still be able to guide you to better tools afterwards!)

But sometimes, you also have to take your own health and energy and stuff into account and go “I know this person is being a cruel asshole because they are sick and/or hurting… but also I do not need to swallow the shit just cuz there’s an explanation. so imma peace out until they get their shit together a little more, and are gonna be less toxic/hurtful to me, stop taking it out on people. I can help them, maybe, but their mental health is NOT my sole responsibility, and I do a disservice to both of us if I decide it is, and abdicate personal responsibly for my OWN health in the process.” Put on your own mask first, and all that.

(I’ve seen this in alcoholics I know, as well, and the other side of that is letting them know “hey, I know you feel like you have no control, but one area where you do have some, is how you treat people. and if you’re acting like an asshole, then ppl won’t want to be treated that way. They aren’t leaving because You suck, they are leaving because Your Behavior sucks, and if you want to be around them in future, you should maybe work on your behavior. You are not inherently a Mean Person, but the things you do and say to people are Mean, and they don’t need to sit there and let themselves be abused” Like, it is possible to be ill, and make mistakes!, without being consistently cruel to folk.)

So, magical shenanigans and hissy-fits not a perfect analogy for BD, but it resonated a bit, so I figured I’d share

WWNRD?  Or, What Would Nurse Ratched Do?  Ft. Nurse Ratched 

Cannabis Refugee, Esq. Advertising / Media / Cultural Conversation, Alternative Treatment, Capitalistic Patriarchal Medicine, Family / Friends, Marijuana / Cannabis, Other Autoimmune Diseases, Radical Feminism

October 31, 2019

Nurse Ratched was a sadistic, evil bitch at the time and would be that and a dangerously out of touch political dinosaur now.  Please do not do what she would do.  If anything, ask yourself WWNRD and then do the opposite.

Speaking with my mother recently made me sympathize with young smartasses and activists who are just waiting for the elder generation — the out of touch Baby Boomers and the Baby Boomers’ parents and kids by this point — to give up the ghost and die.  A “dinosaur” or political dinosaur is someone whose philosophy and worldview are obsolete and rooted in problematic values and circumstances of the distant past.  For example, as a young activist in my teens and 20s I remember thinking and saying that the world would be a better place once those who grew up with unregulated environmental pollution and legal institutionalized racism, sexism etc. died off because their environmental unconcern, racism and sexism were so entrenched that they either didn’t realize, agree or care what they were doing and being was wrong.

Welp.  After being sick my entire fucking life with an undiagnosed autoimmune disease, and going on 8 years with a diagnosed one, I am having these same thoughts now about the older generation of Western medical practitioners and others who were born, grew up and/or progenated in a low-population, relatively unpolluted pre-nuclear world where lifelong serious, untreatable, incurable and progressive disease existed only in very small numbers and therefore where older people seem to believe and act as if chronic illness did not and does not exist at all.

To be clear, chronic illness obviously did exist in our recent and distant past, for example, natural uranium deposits are known to cause acute and chronic radiation sickness to those who spend time around it. And humans have likely always been struck down with genetic and congenital maladies that might not have outright killed them.  But old/er people seem to have lived their entire lives without chronic illness, including autoimmune and immune-mediated disease, front and center in their consciousness or as a part of their lived experience and this does make sense: before, say, the 1940s and 50s the worst industrial (man-made ionizing nuclear) pollutants had yet to be widely dispersed and contemporary Western medicine did not, because it could not, routinely pluck seriously ill and/or nonviable neonates, infants and others from the brink of merciful, natural deaths.  Today, seriously ill children and others are rather forced to live for years, decades and lifetimes with serious illnesses that do not outright kill them, because Western medicine will not allow it, but which Western medicine has yet to figure out how to treat, relieve, or cure.

Having researched chronic illness, primarily autoimmune and immune-mediated disease for going on 8 years now, it seems to me that, in stark contrast to the life experience and worldview of older people, young people today generally are very aware that incurable and progressive chronic illness exists.  Over and over I see that young people today, at least young Western people, well understand and accept the reality of chronic illness much more freely than older people, and the implications of that are extremely dark.  From what I can discern, this difference in worldview likely exists because young people are increasingly becoming seriously chronically ill themselves.  Young people understand and accept the material reality of chronic illness because experiencing it personally as individuals and in their peer group they have no choice but to accept it.

And over and over I see that older people are generally ignorant about issues of chronic illness and that they have not experienced it either individually or in their peer group.  Frighteningly, instead of recognizing their blessed ignorance and trying to remedy it, older people think that their personal opinion based on outdated and second- and third-hand pseudo-knowledge about chronic illness matters or affects the outcome.  It doesn’t, but unfortunately many medical professionals, healthcare policymakers, paid and unpaid caretakers and the like embrace an outdated worldview that no longer applies in our post-nuclear, Western world, and thus do not or cannot fully believe the self-reports of, or even contemporary peer-reviewed medical research addressing, the experiences and needs of seriously chronically ill.

A few weeks ago, a day and a half into a migraine (I’m getting 4 day migraines now, yay!) I panicked over my migraine-related inability to work on my small business, pursue benefits, or do virtually anything as I was completely and totally incapacitated.  In what I can only describe as a misguided and ultimately futile cry for help, bedridden, I called my mother to update her about the situation, whereupon she made some statements of position that were so ignorant they verily shocked me.  Laying in the dark with a sleep mask over my eyes, and a puke bucket near my bed, what I heard uttered from my mother’s lips was so egregiously out of touch with accepted thinking that it frankly terrified me.

Attempting to explain to her how and why she was wrong exhausted me. Knowing that she was moved not an inch by my description of my plight — instead smugly maintaining her “position” throughout as if she were engaging in a political debate rather than considering an emergency communique — enraged me.

For example, when I told my mom that I had a new diagnosis of High Functioning Autism, or HFA, she seemed unsurprised but said I wasn’t autistic as a child because I was always “bright.”  Okay.   In her mind, my HFA-consistent and completely obvious lifelong deficits in executive function — think literal and figurative “housekeeping” — and social competency (including feminine roleplaying which also includes both literal and figurative housekeeping, fuck me sideways) had nothing to do with autism and instead were just me being a lifelong asshole, lazy, and a bitch.  She always believed that about me and she never hesitated to tell me about it.  But at least I was bright.  But now, because I’m no longer a practicing attorney and a “success” and instead am struggling to maintain any quality of life as a seriously ill person with limitations, and I can’t maintain an illusion of physical health anymore if I ever could, I’m a lifelong lazy asshole bitch and a freshly minted unbright/retard on top of it.  Also, there is apparently such a thing as adult-onset autism. Because she says so. 

Of course, my mother’s opinion about HFA is irrelevant and obsolete where HFA-literate people today know that high-functioning autism — the bright, non-retarded kind —  is a bona fide thing, that particularly HFA females are often not diagnosed until late/r in life, and that “brightness” or intelligence is often a symptom/feature of HFA and not the antithesis of it.       Autistic Tumblr — or any young autism or chronic illness related social media site — would tear that political dinosaur a new egg-hole if she dared say something so ignorant patently false about autistics on that platform.  And so they probably should if they wanted to expend the energy and if they thought it would help.

Yes, I recently discovered the dark corner of the internet known as Autistic Tumblr: young people creating content, commentary and community from the shared perspective and lived experience that autism and autism spectrum disorders (ASD) including HFA is real and has real, material effects on people’s lives.  Often, those effects have nothing to do with being low-functioning, or unbright.  Which is not to say that I find Autistic or Chronic Illness Tumblr a particularly sane or comforting place to be.  As I recently learned myself, Autistic Tumblr is an upsetting, dystopian place where young autistics put great effort into and emphasis on “normalizing” and “validating” terrible things that rightfully should never exist at all: autistic and chronic illness related things like melting down, stimming and managing chronic fatigue, chronic pain, chronic gut issues and the like, because although most of them are much younger than me, due to their autism and (likely) related physical and mental issues they are extremely ill and can barely get through their day.  

In fact, upon hearing and considering these self-reports, one might even speculate that physical and mental pain is what likely drives autistics’ trademark weird, antisocial and self-absorbed behavior, where they are in fact “bright” enough to communicate online at the very least (and often have work, school and social commitments) but are exhausted from insomnia, chronic pain and ME/CFS; anorexic because they can’t eat anything; are having infantile hand-flapping meltdowns in public or breaking into inopportune episodes of “stimming” behavior to soothe themselves and they can’t deal with people giving them the side-eye at school and work on top of it.  Autistic young people are living in hell, utter hell, judging from their self-reports.  Considering that vast and increasing numbers of young people are autistic, it seems likely that extreme physical and mental distress is normal for many young people now.  Young people much more than old people seem to know this.  People who care to put in a modicum of research know this.

To further illustrate, when I was attempting to describe my current limitations to my mother she completely dismissed me and said that when it comes to disability, one is either totally disabled or not disabled at all.  Lest I misunderstand what she meant by that, she spontaneously clarified her statement to mean that if I have limitations I should be in a “home” and if I don’t need to be in a “home” then there is no reason I can’t act as if I’m not disabled at all.  In other words, despite being demonstrably, seriously ill, I “should” be able to act/function as if I’m perfectly fine.  Because she says so.  

Of course, as I understand it, invalid “homes” are largely a thing of the past, at least in this country, having literally gone the way of the dinosaur.  And many sick and injured people are, in fact, demonstrably partially disabled, where they are able to perform some activities of daily living and perhaps some higher level activities like bookkeeping and such but not all; accessing “services” to help partially and even very disabled people to live as independently as possible — and not institutionalized — is the way it works now.  Partially disabled does not equal totally disabled, you sadistic Nurse Ratched, you decrepit fossil, nor does partially disabled mean not disabled at all.  She then proceeded to disagree with me — and contemporary peer reviewed medical research corroborating thousands of years of human history and shared experience — that cannabis is an effective anti-inflammatory and is particularly useful in inflammatory bowel disease including Crohn’s.  According to her, and based on nothing, pot isn’t an effective or necessary medicine for any condition, and it’s “merely” an effective pain reliever (!) and therefore is not actually medicine at all.  Because she said so.

This ignorant, sadistic ideological fossil maintains her nursing license and continues to “care for” actual patients including sick infants and children.   Whatever “caring” means to her, and people like her: assholes who rely on frighteningly outdated material on which to form and support their opinions on contemporary medical and social issues, including contemporary chronic illness that for whatever reason is increasing in incidence and prevalence.  And particularly in our post-nuclear, radioactively contaminated environment, including the toxic, autoimmune uterine environment in which many of us spend our first 3/4 of a year and which is known to cause autism.  While information on Crohn’s, HFA, medical marijuana etc. is easily Googleable, and appears to be widely known by young people, apparently my 67 year old nurse mother is waiting for the news to break via Teletype or otherwise didn’t get the memo.  

Of course, if I was a partially disabled man and had a wife (or mother) to perform all my executive function tasks (including bookkeeping services for my small business) for me, no one would even notice I was disabled.  If I were male instead of female perhaps my life wouldn’t be falling apart at all, and certainly the prospect of committing me to a nonexistent/extinct 1940s era invalid home because I can’t wait in line or consistently do my business and personal taxes anymore would have never been raised at all.

Comments Open.

━ ✧ ( nico mirallegro, 26, he/him ) did you hear about generation’s new record ? it’s totally bitchin’ ! isaac carberry was killing it as lead vocalist. people who have interviewed him say they’re really quixotic & convivial, but they can be sort of impish & ungovernable if you catch him at a bad time. a mischievous grin, northern grit, your ex-record label’s offices looking like a jackson pollock after getting your revenge in the form of vandalism.

hello, my loves! — i’m jess, i’m 22 and over in rainy england. i’m recently done with university which gives me a lot of downtime until i find a job so hopefully i can dedicate a lot of that downtime to this fuckin’ rp because it’s gonna be lit i just know it. i’m a huge stone roses fan and 80s/90s-music-obsessed in general so getting to play this character is super exciting for me, so without further ado, meet my trash son: mr isaac carberry. PLEASE HMU FOR PLOTS!

BACKGROUND

born 14th april 1960 in manchester, england to a normal working-class family, isaac was the first born child of james & rose carberry, with a younger sister coming along a few years later. the little family of four lived fairly happily, but struggled financially just as many people did in northern england at the time. 

when isaac was five, his father lost his job as a result of coalmine closures, and times were tough. however, the family kept their spirits high by keeping close-knit, as well as listening to a whole lotta’ music. music was key in the carberry household. it was all around you at all times.

when times would get particularly bleak, his dad would pick up an guitar and play to the kids. he wasn’t very good but watching someone play an instrument and have fun with it sparked something in the eyes of isaac carberry.

tw violence, corporal punishment — during his teenage years, he was a problem child. he was the kid that always got pulled out of class by the headmaster to receive the cane in his office. he could never sit still, was always cracking jokes when he should’ve been doing his schoolwork, etc. it wasn’t talked about at the time, so it went unnoticed, but what isaac was probably dealing with was undiagnosed ADHD. despite this, though, he was a clever child. he had a way with words and looked forward to english class every week, where he would take great pleasure in writing exercises, especially poetry. 

writing was a dreamy, escapist haven for isaac, and this extended to his life outside of school, too. the works he was producing were mostly tongue-in-cheek, light-hearted stories and poems with a recurring “stop taking life so seriously” theme. when he turned 16, however, these poems began to turn into songs. this started to take up a lot of his time especially when he finished secondary school at 16 and went onto sixth form college, where he took music alongside english.

isaac desperately wanted to learn to play guitar, so that he could form some structural melodies to these songs, but struggled with honing the skill of learning an instrument. luckily, when he was 18, he made three friends who could do just that. the four kids would bounce ideas off of each other and hold jam sessions in the tiny little basement of isaac’s family home, but things never went much further than that (at least not yet, anyway.)

isaac decided against going to university, mostly since his family lacked the funds, and instead picked up a full-time job in a grocery store to help out his household’s shared income. 

in 1979, margaret thatcher came into power as the UK’s prime minister, and times got even bleaker. money was even tighter and the working-class situation became an even harder one to be in. the carberry family started sending isaac out on the street after work to sing some of his songs for tips. 

in 1983, aged 23, isaac was in a dark place. no opportunity, no degree, no wealth in the family to fall back on. he ‘rallied up the troops’ so to speak and practically begged his friends to start a band with him. he had plenty of material, after all.

to his relief, they said yes, and were determined to make it work. they were hungry for attention and throwing themselves at any gig opportunities they could get, to get them a bit of money into their pockets. that was it, GENERATION was truly alive and kicking.

at a show supporting another band, generation were noticed by a fellow musician, who took a shine to the band and booked them to support his upcoming uk tour. thus, the band were rising to prominence. fast forward a year and before isaac even had the chance to process it, generation were shaping up to be the biggest band in the uk. isaac could finally give his family everything they needed to better their situation and was having the most amazing time ever doing what he loved.

after independently releasing their own singles, the band got themselves a record deal in early 1985 and released their first full record, a self-titled album. their management wanted to introduce them to US audiences, and thus — that’s how we find ourselves here. 

PERSONALITY

ok sorry for that LONG ass background here’s the nice lil fun part where we can just dick around lmao hey meet my baby boy chaotic aries who is a lovable mess and i will protect him at all costs

literally so much of his personality is inspired by myself lmao we love an aries legend with ADHD but also i owe some of his characterization to the stone roses’ ian brown so if you ever want a look into isaac, watch some interviews or smth because Big Isaac Mood. the last aesthetic in his app references this video

nice, but a fuckin firecracker of a man. intense boi!! he’s a Lot

on first impressions he’s cool and collected and laidback but when you get to know him he can be very exhausting to be around, talks a lot, never tires of energy, etc

has that lopsided, wonky grin that you can’t help but love

lowkey isn’t really overwhelmed by the fame at all, he’s kind of narcissistic in the fact that he??? just feels like it’s really deserved? he knows hes talented jfjhgfjkghf

lowkey maybe highkey a sweetheart

a favourite with the ladies but not good w commitment

has slept around a lot. ladies, fellas, you name it. probably has it in him to settle down someday since he likes the idea of falling in love, but just hasn’t found it as of yet 

charisma literally oozes from him

tw drugs & alcohol / dOeSnT LiKe To sHoW eMoTioNs but then will literally cry w u and pour his heart out if you’re close enough to him or if he’s hella drunk or high on ecstasy 

Reyt fokin’ northern accent, yeh get meh?

man i dont even know can i just post this dumb shit already because this is getting LONG

WANTED CONNECTIONS

ex-girlfriend / groupie — i have this as a wc on the main

best friends will prob be taken by his bandmates but at the time of writing this only one other spot is taken so maybe ill branch out

give me some ppl who just DONT fucking like him

hookups / ex-hookups

someone he can be a bad influence on

someone who is a bad influence on him

someone he’s had beef w in the industry, maybe they said some shit about his band in an interview or something

a slow burn love interest plot................. listen.... gimme the one person he’s falling for and would consider being tied down for. i’d be so soft for that

gimme anything and everything my babies

Just another day.

I've never been the type of person who finds it easy to talk about myself. Not because I believe my story isn't worth telling and not because I don't want people to know personal things about me. That's not really it. I'm a very open person who would admit anything-if prompted. I just kinda have a hard time convincing myself that it would make any difference for me to talk. I am boring. I don't think very highly of myself and if I'm honest, I don't find myself to be that essential as a human being. My place in the lives of people I care about is not a permanent one. Even among groups of close friends I've found that I always naturally fell into the roll of the "therapist" or "shoulder to cry on" because both of these positions carry one very specific quality: they advise but don't participate. No one sees the person they spill their hearts out to as a sufferer. No one wants to feel compelled to compete in the pain Olympics with a confidant. Sympathy over empathy as a listener. People feel safe in confiding in someone who is kind enough to listen and respectful enough to know when to speak. These people must always appear to be untouched lest the illusion be broken. That is why I made this account anonymous-mostly anonymous-anonymous to those who wouldn't put any effort into looking, I guess. At 23 years I finally received an explanation as to why I've always felt like a disallusioned fucking alien. I was recently diagnosed with Dysthymic Disorder with Major Depressive Tendencies. This is apparently also commonly referred to as "double depression" which, if you ask me, is quite possibly the dumbest fucking shit name imaginable. It's like whoever decided this just wanted to create the simplest term to explain that it's like two types of depression at once. Like when a kid wants to show that something is just a little bit above whatever they were describing and just slaps the word "super" on before it. Dysthymia is apparently fairly rare with something like 1.5% of Americans having it. A lot of people go undiagnosed so... there's that too. After being diagnosed I found that there was not really a lot of information or personal stories for the disorder to find on the internet, let alone a symplistic sugarcoated meme to smirk at. God damnit. Hopefully I can at least explain what this kind of disease is like. Dysthymia was described to me as depression light. It's a chronic condition categorised by more bad days than good days persisting for 2 or more years. Like most days are just like "bleh" or "meh" with some days being somewhat better and some days being, at least in my case, severely worse. For people who have both, the MDD symptoms tend to be worse than if it was just MDD. Dysthymia feels like the world has turned gray. Like when you stay up all night playing video games and grumble down the hall to your room at 5am feeling utterly exhausted and a little bit ashamed of yourself. Add hopelessness, a strangely low appetite, and times it by a constancy of fucking years and you get this. In my case this has been present since I was little. I only sought out treatment options after graduating college when I finally got fed up with the normal symptoms of depression I had been feeling. After 6 months of trying to find a psychiatrist or at least a student with a pen who wouldn't cost me a year of tuition or my dignity, I started talk therapy. 9 months later she pooped out a diagnosis for Major Depressive Disorder after a particularly heated discussion we had about why I couldn't just force myself to not think depressing things and will myself to manage my symptoms with physical health improvements and bubble baths. I finally described to her that there is nothing about me innately that WANTS to think the way I do. That it's compulsory and invasive of my positive outlook on the world. People like to believe that only sad-natured people develop depression like you don't fucking say but what about those who honestly love the world around them but just can't get overwhelming melancholy out of their fucking heart. 4 months on medication, still trying to find my proper "cocktail" and repeating myself in therapy that I don't need to go to the psych ward and that these thoughts are not new. I know it's hard to understand but there's a big difference between not wanting to be here and planning to kill yourself. I'm not a threat to myself or to others. At my worst I'm a zombie who just wants to watch the same TV series again for the 10th time. I'm not ignorant of my condition. I know what bad looks like, I know what a dangerous situation would be and I would, by all means, find help if it got to that point. I'm not about to say that I don't need help. I'm actively trying to fix what's fucked up with me. I make efforts to mask my symptoms and do well at work. I treat people with respect and dignity and only cuss people out in my head. This is my wall of ramblings no one will ever want to read.