*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions Of Su*c*d*l Ideations, Hospitalizations, Emotional Abuse, Verbal Abuse,

your blog sucks

you should see my life

oliverstarkk: Thanks for having me @/abookof - you can purchase my collectors issue through the link on their page x

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d* attempt, su*c*d*l ideations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, anxiety, bipolar depression, PTSD symptoms.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 6

12:06pm

I’ve realized that I wasn’t broken or shattered when I came to you. I was cracked. Hundreds of jagged lines waiting to be smoothed over. But from Langone to those next 6 weeks, pieces were starting to fall faster than the cracks were sealed. The first hospitalization at Emory, moving to New York, our fights, my Granny passing, more fights, my birthday, to that last Monday that I saw the apartment, to the last time we were together. Everything in-between was beautiful and warm, and those specific moments were pain and suffering.

I thought I had reached my breaking. But the truth is, my breaking point was 100 times higher than I ever thought. My mask was too thick, right? So thick that as tears rolled down my face onto the floor and as “I’m sorry” rode along my shaky breaths, the splashes and shakes couldn’t be heard.

You know, it was the smallest thing that pitched me off the tallest cliff that is my breaking point. It was another of your fights, another “open conversation”. I bought my tickets to go see our cousin for Christmas, something that you not only suggested, but I informed you that I decided upon the week before. And, as I listened to you say it yet another slap to your face (this should be a new record at this point, what’s the count, 6?), as I felt the quivering of my anxiety claw at my lungs, as you brought up trying to buy my tickets as if it wasn’t the first time I was hearing it, as I felt a good moment fade… I knew I needed to leave.

To rid you of my presence, my two suitcases, of my laptop, of the heels I bought as my birthday present to myself that I returned because you suggested (another irresponsible spend), of the list I made you of all my favorite foods of me washing the dishes and cleaning the bathroom and staying home and watching the cats as you and Gem traveled on a trip that I was invited on first and of the packet that you and Gem promised you would help me with but didn’t and of me with my angstand my sorrowand my guiltand my anxietyand my depressionand me…

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 -- Part 7

Art by Voidentir

I refuse to spend more time on this, his jacket is so ugly

I hope everyone is having a wonderful beginning of pride month! This is my first pride since coming out and I'd like to share a little bit of my own perspective this pride.

I'm 22 and I only came out a few months ago. I've been super lucky and all of my friends and family have been super accepting. The worst part about coming out has just been me.

My whole life I thought I was straight, I didn't have many crushes (see later learning about demisexuality as well) and any that I did have were very normal cis guys from school. I never had any reason to think I wasn't straight and that was perfectly ok.

My friend group has always leaned on the queerer side. Most of them were out by the time we graduated high school or shortly after and all of them talked about how they always knew that it was always there.

I've known what pansexual is since I was 14 and I'd never thought of it as a label for me, people were pretty but that was it to me, I liked guys.

There's a guilt you feel sometimes when you come out later than your peers. Whether it be like me and you're still young or years down the line. You're still just as valid but there's that part of you that feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

It's my first pride and I feel guilty.

I feel guilty because every year before now pride was for my friends with me as the respectful ally following their lead. I've never even gone to a pride parade, always seeing that as something they got to do, something they deserved to do and I didn't want to intrude.

I know I shouldn't feel guilty but I do.

I hope one day there's a part of me that doesn't feel like I'm just faking these feelings so I can be included, that it's ok I didn't always know but for now there is.

I'm grateful to everyone celebrating pride with me this year, my partner, my friends both here and out in the world and my family.

Thank you for reminding me I'm valid even when I can't always see it.

Happy pride everyone, especially if this is your first one.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💜

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of emotional and verbal abuse, su*c*d*l thoughts, self-deprecating thoughts, anxiety, and depression.*

Monday, Nov. 7th, 2022

4:37pm

Dear Me,

I’m struggling so much to control my anxiety and stress since my birthday 2 days ago. Deadass, I am so confused to the point where I don’t know where to begin, but I know that I am feeling so depressed and tired and empty and numb and exhausted. Gem’s extreme levels of vulnerability and the amount of breakdowns she has, is triggering and makes me upset for her, but also myself, because I don’t know what to do with myself and I feel out of place. 

Then with Angel, the way she speaks to me just gets to me. It comes off as if she is SO upset with me each time, or is looking for something to berate me over. It’s as though she’s projecting her frustrations onto me, but then, painting it over by saying that she is trying to have an honest conversation or teaching/advising me. It makes me so anxious and sick to my stomach when she talks to me because it’s like she’s going to be aggressive or “attack me” every single time. 

There’s no question of how I’m doing, or a thought of what I’m going through. She just wants to release whatever she wants to without any pushback. She’s controlling the situation to her own benefit without any regard. It’s like she forgets that I’m fighting my hardest to stay alive afloat, and only telling me what’s wrong with me(?).  It reminds me of our dad and how he used to talk to me and how I used to feel. She’s trying to “help” me “learn” by “advising” me to do certain things. But, it’s all a nice way of saying that she’s controlling me. But, some things are true and things that I truly need to work on, yet the consistent way that she delivers them is so awful. I just feel helpless.

Part 2