Me, having a Bad Time: What if I did this exact thing to a fictional character? Would I feel better?

I found this as someone else's post but they tagged it as c///oquette so i'm reposting!!Credit to selfcareexpress on instagram♡

Y'know.......I think the reason i've said Hobie behaves like a normal teenager even though that is Very Much Not The Case is that i was never a normal teenager myself and i remember my high school years vididly,where i was so much like Hobie-Only way more anti-social but including being black.All the way back to middle school,i'd mouth off to my teachers and physically fight my bullies and eventually that extended to standing up for other kids and i had no clue how to communicate with them because of how different i was from them with the ONE exception being this duo of boys who i'd geek out over anime and video games and mary sue ocs and shit over and i straight up started skipping classes because i was sick of everybody's shit and how hard the material was getting even though i 'used to be a genius and still had it in me' and only vaguely felt upset when i almost flunked high school for it and i'd listen to punk music and read horror and my favorite kinds of stories were always about how much authority sucks and that kids always know better and desperately wished my family would let me dress alt and do gender fuckery.And as it turns out,all that was because of my undiagnosed autism but i never questioned any of it because i thought i was the normal one and that everyone else were the weirdos

Hobie's not a normal teenager.He's a black,traumatized and autistic one

Reeling feeling those middle school vibes 😂

Sorry l didn’t draw the body… bit lazy but if you know you know.

Today on quotes that speak to me on a disturbingly deep level ✌🏻

In a month of gnarly foot injuries, today took the formally foot shaped cake

Okay I am sitting on the train and we went by this little farm and I saw sheep or smth

My mind immediately went

LLAMA

no not Llama

no llama

and I uh had to share

My therapist told me to try writing something about trust, what it means to me. I told him about the slug, and he laughed in a kind way. 

I wish my body didn't respond like it is. Today, when I heard her voice shouting over the phone, I felt the ground beneath me shake; the blue textures in my basement rumbled. Ocular migraines brought on by stress; they happen often. I talked to myself kindly as I panicked.

My body doesn't know how to handle the extent to which it was deceived by the false sense of safety. I am gently holding myself each day, triumphantly waiting for when the gut pinch gets just a little bit lighter. There are no forget me nots in this garden; crows and lizards visit me each day; a not so subtle reminder that I'm here, now; breathe in, out - practice the Buddhist shit she made you run away from. Listen deeply because she wouldn't let you hear your own voice. The mucus will still glisten on the curb tomorrow but nothing stays forever. 

I'm going to see the first girl who ever really broke my heart. We both wish it wasn't true; I know that much already. I don't usually fall out of love with people and I fell out of you, darling. I crawled up the first sturdy branch I could find with a mouth full of blood and bruises on my back (you remember, don't you? from the time you hit me repeatedly in your best friend's bedroom; she'd hate you more if she knew). Did you know the window was open? I saw it that next morning and felt embarrassed because of how I cried as you fell asleep.

You told me to look at you, and you saw me look through you - dead eyes. I'd do anything to slap me like you did - straight across, scratching my nose with a hangnail; I'd slap hard enough to make me run.

Do you remember her, baby? That sweet girl you met 5 years ago? Oh how I wish I could meet her again, as you of course. She was so damaged and you wrapped her in your ill-meaning hands as the hangman of her trust. You enjoyed it, too; making her suffer - taking her last breath. You still demanded her help, even though she was bedridden. Even though she could barely make a move to counter you. All she wanted to do was sleep and you still couldn't just go hang out with your friends. You had to be there, just to watch her. Wait for the right moment to choke. No time to process. Not alone, at least.

You came into her apartment when she wasn't home. How did she not see that? What did that imply about you? Your audacity? How you'd take anything you wanted, morph it into something stable. How could she allow herself to be your sponge and still offer to clean up the blood on the floor?

It's pathetic, really. Get up bitch and start over - the curtain call is soon. You've given yourself the 5 minutes to grieve for the day and now it is time to move on. Didn't you listen to any of the mantras your mother told you, you narcissistic piece of shit? I mean didn't she ever teach you to put things away as you cook? Are you really that stupid? Oh you don't like my tone? Have you seen the ugly look on your face? You disgust me. I'm leaving you.

Remember that one time I didn't cook dinner? That was the first time I thought you were going to hit me. The second time was when you broke the front door to our first apartment; after you pushed me out and slammed it so hard I was scared the neighbors were going to call the cops. I never knew how I'd say to them that I needed to call because of you, so I didn't. I hated the idea of calling pigs in, even though I needed interference. Retrospectively, you were never a rational person. Who throws punches to solve a problem? Capitalism. Which you claimed to hate. 

The first time you actually hit me you were freaking out at our next place. I was so scared that I locked myself in our closet. I called your aunt because I didn't know who else to call except 911. But that'd be too serious, right? That'd only make you more mad, and I can't risk that.

You charged in, grabbed my phone, threw it 10ft across the room into the back wall. The front and back glass shattered. You pushed me again - slammed the wall behind me, three times, backed me into a corner. I quickly turned and grabbed the door. Fuck I wish none of this was true. I got away, left for a few hours in my car that you crashed.

And you still didn't apologize. I told you if you ever hit me again, I'd leave. 

I think I have issues trusting myself. I lost count, did you? I wish I had left you then. Maybe trust would be easier. Maybe a snail would visit instead of a slug.

Today I learned that when wooden boats dry out while getting repaired and then go back in the water, there's a period of time when they leak a lot while the wood swells. They might even sink in the first 24 hours (which isn't ideal of course). But the leaking is good because it makes the wood swell faster and soon enough they won't be leaking as much anymore. There's always going to be a little water and that's not a bad thing.

Something something metaphors for recovery and wading through trauma.

It's okay to be a little leaky while you're healing.

My favorite ship dynamic is 'Me and the bad bitch i pulled by having similar trauma to them'

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL8x5a9o/

Angsty Atla tiktok

OH GOD.OH GOOOOOOOOOOD THIS FUCKING HURTS OMGGGGGG /very pos

Alittlebitoferika . Etsy . com (they won’t let me put it together :/) anyways, hope you enjoy!

More llama drama no probllama Tatsandarts.redbubble.com

Llama llama

Now has trauma

Lately, she hadn’t had to worry much about her baby coming back to their house under the tree. Being with their herd had done a lot to help them recover from whatever it was that has distressed them so much all those moon cycles ago. She liked her new home in the giant tree too! They had made a lovely nest for her, with the softest blankets, and her baby hadn’t slept in there with her for a long time now! Maybe soon she could return to the mountains to return to the other llamas once her baby no longer needed her.

She knew something was wrong when she heard them arrive back one day and go straight to the nest. She only saw because she’d just come back from outside, having enjoyed some time nibbling grass and watching the world from under the giant tree. And there they were, hiding in the nest, wrapped under a blanket, making distressed noises!

Oh, this hadn’t happened in a long while! She made her way over and lay down beside them, gently making her presence known.

“Just please make it stop, it’s too loud, too loud, Scar please make it stop…”

She looked back as they emerged from the blanket and wrapped their front legs around her neck. She hummed softly, hoping it would sooth them.

Something Bad had happened, it seemed, if they were back to hiding in the nest. She nudged and licked their head, offering what comfort she could.

She wondered what had caused their distress. Things had been better lately, much better! But clearly they were still not quite ready to be on their own yet.

“…gotta talk to Impulse, it’s too loud, too loud, gos my ears hurt so much…”

She could feel them starting to tremble again like they used to do during thunderstorms. She shifted and they moved enough so that she could rest her front leg over their body. That usually stopped the shakes.

Well, she knew what the rest of her day was going to be now. Her baby needed her! She’d stay right here until they were okay again.