Change - Blog Posts

IDEA!

I think it would be so cool if someone made an animation based off of the Disney song "Colors of the Wind" (if anyone ever feels the need to make this come to life by all means PLEASE 🙏)

Like there is a person that the scene is following and they're singing the song but in like modern times showing off like cities and people just interacting and LIVING

-------------------------------------------------------

🎶"You think I'm an ignorant savage" 🎶

The speaker (for the sake of this I'm going to call them "C" for citizens or something or like the people) is singing towards the camera or another idea is is that there is another person (I'm going to call this figure G) that is kind of just like a blank slate or like a shadow figure so like there's no identifiable features just that it's a being that is there and present and they are the one being addressed

-maybe there's a foggy blurry distant perception of an angry mob behind C that's kind of like a mirage

🎶"And you've been so many places"🎶

Pan rich people stuff, like boats and planes and maybe high class parties with suits and dresses and champagne or whatnot

🎶"I guess it must be so"🎶

🎶"But still, I cannot see"🎶

Maybe there's a close up of C and in their eyes you can see different scenes of people crying over bills in their hand well at the hospital, and then maybe it pans to some rich higher up connected to the hospital and they're laughing having fun over fancy dinner in a suit at some party

🎶"If the savage one is me"🎶

could be kind of cool if the poor side was reflected in one eye and the rich was reflected in the other at the same time so you could see the contrast

🎶"How can there be so much that you don't know?"🎶

Maybe it pans two other unfortunate scenes filtering in C's eyes that show the wide contrast between the rich and the poor

🎶"You don't know"🎶

...No longer a close-up of C...

🎶"You think you own whatever land you land on"🎶

C is singing at them and pokes G's chest and then gestures around them with their arms open

🎶"The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim"🎶

maybe pan to scenes that go on in the background like a one of those old photo tapes that are like long strips of different photos of places being conquered/ taken over/ claimed, or natural resources being picked dry like a scene of trees being cut down, or they're digging up dirt for oil or something

🎶"But I know every rock and tree and creature"🎶

I think would be cool if the scene blurs and it looks like it's spinning and then suddenly it looks like C and G a walking down a path and C is greeting people and saying hi or like giving brief hugs before they keep walking down the path

🎶"Has a life, has a spirit, has a name"🎶

C looks back at G and gestures one arm out then there's like scenes of the people he just greeted or said hi to just living life, interacting with other people, smiling, talking doing things maybe playing with kids or walking a dog or going in a coffee shop or something

🎶"You think the only people who are people"🎶

And then maybe it shows a whole bunch of different people from all over the world and different cultures with all different features and looks and languages from all kinds of different backgrounds just showing them having small interactions and day to day life (including different genders and sexualities)

🎶"Are the people who look and think like you"🎶

Maybe pan to rich people doing rich people things?

🎶"But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger"🎶

It continues to pan between the different scenes, maybe some showing different kinds of cultural celebrations

🎶"You'll learn things you never knew, you never knew"🎶

Meanwhile all these scenes are going by, maybe it looks like they're invisible but in the room where all these different people just watching it happen. But it also shows other scenes like the poor and the hungry and the homeless and all the others that society tends to forget about, that they are people too, and that they're hurting, maybe it shows scenes like a mother going hungry just so she can give her kids the meager scraps of food, for a father working himself to the bone to try to provide, or younger person having to put up with other people tormenting them at work because they need the job to be able to put food on the table and pay their rent

🎶"Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?"🎶

Maybe pan to a street artist playing guitar and singing something and has a hat out for cash, maybe pans too something to show money problems, maybe an eviction notice

🎶"Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?"🎶

Maybe a scene of a clearly overworked and exhausted father that puts a smile on for his kid but then turns around and looks at his empty wallet and loses his smile making sure his kids can't see

Then it pans to other similar scenes where people are struggling and hurting while C keeps singing

🎶"Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain?"🎶

🎶"Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?"🎶

🎶"Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?"🎶

🎶"Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest"🎶

Maybe show something where the scene is weaving down streets and corners and it comes upon a a family who is struggling but is just happy to have each other

🎶"Come taste the sun sweet berries of the Earth"🎶

Maybe a scene of poor kids running through the forest barefoot or something and stumbling upon a berry bush and they just present great joy as they start stuffing handfuls in their folded shirts

🎶"Come roll in all the riches all around you"🎶

Maybe the camera starts pointing towards the sky from in the forest so you can see beautiful gigantic trees reaching towards the heavens and maybe birds play together as they fly by, and the camera is spinning in a circle? And/or C has their face towards the sky and their arms wide open as they spin in circles in a small clearing

🎶"And for once, never wonder what they're worth"🎶

Maybe one of the playful birds comes down and perches on C's arm/hand

.... Scene change, maybe in a city again

🎶"The rainstorm and the river are my brothers"🎶

Pan to different people, maybe people of different cultures and genders

🎶"The heron and the otter are my friends"🎶

🎶"And we are all connected to each other"🎶

Maybe a scene where it shows that things are all connected to each other like sunlight to plants and deer to wolves and bodies to mushrooms and stuff like that?

🎶"In a circle, in a hoop that never ends"🎶

🎶"How high does the sycamore grow?"🎶

Maybe show a massive gigantic tree that C stands at the base of and opens its arms wide upwards towards its leaves

🎶"If you cut it down, then you'll never know"🎶

🎶"And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon"🎶

Maybe show a street view of the place where the street performer used to sing/play and just show a dirty ruined trampled on hat that's just abandoned on the sidewalk

🎶"For whether we are white or copper skinned"🎶

C is facing towards the camera and has arms wide, on one side it shows the average in poor people in their plane worn clothes and the other it shows rich people with fancy suits or expensive stuff or whatever

🎶"We need to sing with all the voices of the mountain"🎶

Maybe show C with the mob behind them like the beginning but this time they're happy and holding hands and stuff

🎶"We need to paint with all the colors of the wind"🎶

🎶"You can own the Earth and still"🎶

Maybe show something where people are farming or gathering but still tending to the Earth

🎶"All you'll own is Earth until"🎶

Show people shopping down trees and digging for oil

🎶"You can paint with all the colors of the wind"🎶

Have C bring their arms in close to their chest and cover their heart

A spark ignites, a quiet flame,

It whispers first, then calls a name.

Through shadows deep, through silence thick,

It stirs the soul, it makes hearts quick.

The winds of change begin to blow,

A truth once buried starts to grow.

The old ways crack, the walls decay,

As voices rise and feet give way.

The roar of hope, the cry of pain,

A thunderclap, a driving rain.

Revolution calls with steady hand,

To tear apart, to take a stand.

The ground will tremble, hearts will race,

As power shifts, as hearts embrace.

The chains once held will break and fall,

And freedom’s light will pierce it all.

But revolution, fierce and wild,

Is never tame, nor always mild.

It burns the past, but leaves behind,

A future shaped by all mankind.

So when the drums of change are heard,

Let courage rise, let voices stir.

For revolution, bold and true,

Is born from hope and what we choose.

Ghana is considering to enact a law that will have LGBTQ+ people arrested or detained while being ridiculed by the public. Let’s help them by signing this petition. Thank you to anyone who participates.

http://chng.it/gcRwyqdwgq

Just saying that I'd like to see a Change MV with Louis and his buddies just partying, but with that old-school camera feel if you know what I mean (my articulation is shit)

Fate/Grand Order - “Here comes the new challengers!”

Photo courtesy of New York Times

Another Chance

          My mom passed away right after I was born. My father was devastated, but he didn’t tell me anything about her death. I was too young and innocent. But of course, I found out sooner or later. I wasn’t that sad though, to be honest, I did not see my mom at all except in photos. Didn’t mean I was all that jolly either.

          I respected my dad. He wasn’t abusive or anything. He was nice, though he was a bit distant. It broke my heart to see him so depressed and sad, when he looked at pictures of mom. But I couldn’t help him. I tried, and it went horribly wrong. I told him it was alright and that mom was in a better place. He practically screamed in my face and threw a vase at me. It might’d flew an inch from my face. I felt the wind of it go by. Let say I didn’t say anything after that.

          It might be somewhat fine in the household, but high school, was hell.      

          I was 15, starting a second new year of the same school, with same people. I walked through the packed hallways with my head down and hood up. The kids there know me by a lot of names. ‘Emo Freak’, ‘Loser’, ‘Quiet Freak’, ‘Idiot’. You name it. I was the quiet kid of the school who barely had any friends. You think I should had speak up or something, right? I did, in fact. But it also went horribly wrong.  I tried speaking to some people, and tried to make friends but it just got me more enemies. I didn’t know why they hate me so much. But I could guess the suspect to be my eyes. Their purple, and they think is the sign of death. Which is stupid. I tried telling teachers, but they won’t do anything.

          Then on the 20th of October. Something life changing happened.

          Dad’s mental health must had gotten worse without me knowing. I come home to find dad...                                                                                                                                 ....in a pool of blood.

          News spread like bush-fire. Soon nearly the whole school knew that the ‘Emo Freak’s’ father had committed suicide. And what was disgusting is that they find it funny! The bullying got worse day by day. I got more depressed each day by each day. The demon and taken over my head and there was no more angels singing in my head. I grew colder and colder. Till the point where I started to think that grabbing a knife and killing everyone was better off. 

          I got up from bed and walked to the kitchen. Then something had happened, but it was a blur before I fell into darkness.

          I woke up in a bed. It wasn’t mine though. All around me was blue. Peaceful blue. I stood up and caught a door in my sight. It was blue except for the doorknob, which was sparkling gold. I timidly tip-toed towards to the door and opened it. I was immediately blinded by bright light.

          I shot up from my bed. The covers flew of my body. I was sweating profusely. It was all just a dream. I ran a hand through my hair and heard a familiar voice calling for breakfast. “MUM! DAD! Oh my god I’m so glad you’re alive!” Both gave confused and amused laugh and glances. “I had this dream and... Nevermind, It’s not important.” I smiled and ate my pancakes with my loving family. Then a voice sounded in my head, 

“You’re not hopeless Mandy. Don’t listen to others. Purple can represent anything. For you it would be hope. I’ll give you another chance to live. To change.”

thinking of changing up my tumblr aesthetic, like my banner and pfp... hmmm and maybe a new intro too bc im obviously not the same as i was last year

idk... i'll probably do it later.

if my things do change, dw, it's still me :)

*Trigger Warnings: Details and Descriptions of su*c*d* attempt, su*c*d*l ideations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, drug use, guilt, anxiety, bipolar depression, PTSD symptoms, eating disorder, passive aggressive humor.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 7

12:06pm

So yeah, I tried to kill myself. Emphasis on “tried”. I packed up all my shit, so that you and Gem wouldn’t have to touch it or look at it. I took those pills, all of those pills, because I couldn’t and still can’t cut myself. And, I waited in an alley 2 blocks from your apartment in the biting cold for 3 hours, so I wouldn’t die in the apartment, your home.

That slap must hurt, doesn’t it?

Then… nothing.

Nothing happened happened that is. I waited 3 hours, watching Steven Universe to leave with my last chance at happiness and nothing fucking happened. “Oh well”, I thought.

So, I got up, walked back to the apartment, called an ambulance because I took a shit ton of medication that was going to do something other than k*ll me. Went to the hospital, told them not to call you for a few hours because I didn’t care to. The drugs kicked in and I was high out of my mind, couldn’t even walk by myself (HA! LOL), and then… there you were.

I only remember two bits from that conversation. 1.) That you got me food because I realized I hadn’t eaten in however long I was there. And 2.), That you were kicking me out, said I couldn’t come back, that first you felt guilt that switched to anger, that you're "shipping me back to my mom", that what would I think if Gem found me dead in my room, and what would it be like for you both to have to find a new place. And I said, “I’m sorry”.

And I still have more sorry's to give. I know that what I just said was hurtful and unfair and completely victimizing myself, even if it is my side of the story. I’m so sorry for that. Genuinely, I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry that me arriving came at a time, where you and Gem were struggling with new jobs and the eventual lawsuit possibility. I’m sorry that I was another person with damaged mental health added to your household, when you felt like you were the only one keeping everyone afloat. I’m sorry that I never just told you the truth, my truth. Of how I was feeling and how much I was struggling.

I’m sorry that things never went the way we expected. I’m sorry for not being there for you and Gem, the way you both were for me. I’m sorry that I “fed off the energy in the space” and “exacerbated what was already in the space”. I’m sorry for not seeing the obvious signs that you both needed space.

I’m so sorry for not being able to leave the house or eat without being told. I’m so sorry for not being able to find an out-patient program or a job fast enough. I’m so sorry for making you be my one and only protector and supporter.

I’m so sorry for becoming your and Gem’s suffering, instead of just my own.

I’m so sorry for putting myself in your hands when you weren’t prepared.

I’m so sorry for making you take responsibility for me.

I’m so sorry for sharing more with Gem than with you.

I’m so sorry for not making my choice to say, “Yes, I’ll come stay with you”, shown and worth it.

I’m… so sorry… for putting you and Gem through the trauma of me attempting su*c*d*, and the strain that must have caused.

I’m.

So.

Sorry…

For Everything.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5 -- Part 6

*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

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d*l ideations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, anxiety, bipolar depression, insomnia, PTSD symptoms.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 5

12:06pm

I was hiding my anxiety, my depression, my rage, my insomnia under my mask that I guess was too thick. So thick that it shadowed the drips and drops of the truth, my truth, that I hoped would grow into waves large enough to show on your radar. That I was not okay. Not okay at all. But okay enough to manage, right?

My world was changing so fast and everything was too much, yet slow enough and just not enough that I could see my only motivation to even have a world, flickering in and out with every interaction. With every text left unsent. With every phone call unrung. 

I thought things were getting better, I thought I was getting better. But how could I with no therapist, no meds, no one to help me sift through that packet, no one to talk to? All I had was that packet, my laptop, and two older sisters that switched from laughter to comfort, to withdrawn to frustration. From me being there, to me wanting anything but anywhere…

The way you spoke, the way you acted, the way you looked, set me on edge. I felt like an intruder in your home, and during some of your “open conversations”, I felt like you thought so too. There were lines drawn in the sand, when you said you would always prioritize Gem over me, when there shouldn’t have been. There were so many contradictions, “We’re not roommates in college” vs. “I’m not your parent”, or better yet, “You’re an adult who can make their own decisions” vs. “You should at least inform me of what’s going on, so I can help you”, that should have been cut and dry. There were assumptions, so many assumptions, “I think you look for drama” vs. “I think you were trying to be insensitive”, that could have been questions. 

So many times, we had “open conversations” that were plainly and painfully, just one-sided. In which your claws were out, and I cried and apologized. Even the one time I found the strength to stand up for myself, I ended up saying “I’m sorry”, drowned in tears enough to last a lifetime.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 6 Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d*l ideations, hospitalizations, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, guilt, bipolar depression, anxiety.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 4

12:06pm

My resolve sparked the shift. The shift from watching my pieces scatter from me sporadically to gluing them back together. By the time I landed, I knew there were expectations for me, whether they were from you or my friends, or even myself. Everything was still moving too fast, I really couldn’t keep up, but all I could think about was that I had to and that you two were there to help me.

But only half of that was true.

After I landed and we went to Langone (hospital), I think both of our expectations broke and we didn’t know what to do. I was in an unfamiliar place (New York City) with a deadline of January 1st to move out. I was losing myself throughout that entire time, and instead of finding hope, I found rejection immediately. Langone was the destination in my mind that would turn the tides. I would be able to heal and receive the treatment that I needed to kickstart the right kind of growth. I was ready to let go of my control of myself and release my inhibitions in the hope of something great… for me. 

But instead, I was rejected and I walked away with a packet of every out-patient facility in the NYC area.

Everything was too much. I was broken and was fighting myself to not to want to give up, for you and everyone else, and I decided to keep saving face and see it through. Then maybe, it would be for me too.

After Langone, you were upset, it was nowhere near the plan of me staying in the hospital for 2 weeks. I think that’s when I shied away from you and confided in Gem. I was upset too that Langone didn’t work out, but I was so tired, too tired, of trying to lift off the ground and take flight. I needed time to gain more energy, to repair my mask that was so close to completely breaking. Because if I wasn’t okay enough to manage, then all of your efforts and money would have been wasted. So, I did just that. I rested for almost a week, and felt strings lifting me to dance a song I didn’t know.

You guys did your best to pour into me. By telling me to journal again, to eat, drink water, to get outside. Despite all that was on each of your plates, you made sure I knew that you were there for me. But, how you specifically did it took much longer to understand.

I felt like I was an intruder in your home. A parasite taking what you had for a gain I had not identified or knew existed. I was trying to be so careful; not to do something wrong, to upset you, to make you question if bringing me there was a mistake…

You asked me to wash the dishes, I started washing them almost every time, so you wouldn’t have to ask again. You got upset that second week that I didn’t take out the trash and recycling on time, I made sure to take them out by the end of each day. You told me to clean the bathroom on the weekends, I put time aside to clean it on Sundays. You told me y’all like to spot clean throughout the week, as soon as I saw cat litter on the hallway floor, I was sweeping and moping the whole house.

You told me that I was irresponsible with money, that it was a slap to the face, even though it wasn’t with your money. I stopped buying things that was just for me, bought groceries for the household, and occasionally bought a coffee.

You told me that you expected me to go back to school in January, then when I said that I didn’t want to, you only said okay. I started looking at colleges and scholarships and made a list.

You told me that you didn’t have the space for me to regularly let you know the progress I was making, even though I was putting in all this effort for you, for you to keep seeing me alive and well. I stopped talking because there was nothing left of me to pull from and share.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of su*c*d*l ideations, harassment, trauma, hospitalizations, breakdowns, triggers, depression, PTSD symptoms.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023 Part 3

12:06pm

That incident with the driver triggered me, so badly to the point where for the next week, it was like I was back with Dad and with my step-dad. I couldn’t separate my past reality with my present one. And, 4 days in, I stopped going to classes. I missed 2 weeks by the time that I almost acted on my su*c*d*al ideations. I stopped myself though, and told my therapist. She suggested I go to an in-patient hospital down the road at Emory, and I took it. But, it made everything worse, and I regretted it.

I went without telling anyone, and I thought the school would handle all necessary communications with my teachers, like they said they would, but they didn’t. I was bitter and sad and angry and numb the moment I stepped out of the hospital after almost a week. Then, I spoke to you and the New York Plan started.

You were the first and only person that I told about the hospital. I thought you would be mad at me, at least I made myself believe that. But, you were the opposite, you were mad at Emory like I was, and after you told me what you went through to try to find me, I thought you were finally starting to understand why I didn’t like it at Emory. You were fiercely protective of me like you always have been, and I knew that my big sister had me.

But then, you called back later that day and said that I should fly out to New York the next day, and for the first time, you scared me. Everything was moving too fast all of a sudden, and me, being where I was, just out of the hospital and so ready to die, I was so ready to come to you, but the logical side of me pumped the brakes so hard and so fast.

Of course, I needed the support, I wanted the support, but there was no way that I could just up and leave, but also, leave and then what? We didn’t talk about that first. I had to think about my college trajectory, how things would change, what I would be risking, what and who I would leave behind. Everything was too much to work out to just leave the next day. I processed and understood that enough to take a pause, which in hindsight, I really commend myself for.

The next 2 weeks were awful. I was breaking down crying almost every night, trying to wrestle with the fact of leaving not just just Emory, but the life that I had staked everything and was failing to maintain. I was losing an already lost battle, but it was just catching up to me. When my professors told me that I either would need to leave or fail my classes, when my therapist was pushing for me to go, when my advisor told me leaving would save my full-ride scholarship. The world decided for me what would be next, and I watched my world shatter. It was heartbreaking and frustrating and so filled to the brim with grief that I was drowning, truly, when I already thought I was. But, there was you and there was Gem.

And even though I had a January deadline to meet and the pressure equaled my sorrow, I knew what to be done. So, I filed the medical leave, and jumped on the plane.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of harassment, panic attacks, PTSD symptoms, anxiety, threats of physical violence. Mentions of trauma, abuse, bipolar depression, PTSD, anxiety, coping, self deprecating thoughts, dark humor.* Sunday, May 28th, 2023

12:06pm

This is the letter that I wrote to my older (half) sister, before the texts in Part 1 the next day.

Here’s what I said to her:

“Hey Angel… I think it’s time we talk about the distance that we both have experiencing. Honestly, I don’t even know how the distance started, but it’s something that I fell into and followed. I would like to talk when you’re ready because it’s necessary that we do. That we talk about everything for as long as we both need, and that we come into this conversation ready and willing to hear each other out. Just let me know.”

“I was in such a dark place when this all started. I think after looking back on it, that I never took the time to properly explain what happened, what’s been happening…

As you know, I’ve had such an extensive amount of trauma, especially from my supposed father-figures. It was September… I was on a shuttle, trying to get to my rehearsal for dance on a Sunday afternoon. I stepped onto the shuttle, wearing my headphones, listening to the same playlist that I do before I dance. It’s my… ritual, the thing that grounds me, calms me, but also, psyches me up to go. And, that’s the paradoxical thing about having anxiety as well as bipolar depression; you have to calm yourself down in order to build yourself up to feel excited.

In that process, I missed the driver telling everyone to not get on if they were not going to the next stop, which would unfold in our confrontation. 

I got on the bus, and when we arrived at the next stop, I didn’t get off the bus, which was odd, but not too unusual… until I noticed the yelling. I took out my earbuds to hear the driver yelling, and it took me a second to realize that he was yelling at me. He was trying to force me off the bus because I apparently wasn’t supposed to be on otherwise.

I was confused, and shocked, and frightened, but I found the courage to ask why. I didn’t know at the time that he had said that he would swing back around to get the people going to main campus. I got frustrated with how he was acting, because we would get there eventually ‘cause the route is continuous, as all bus routes are, but he kept getting more aggressive as he was trying to force me off. His reasoning was, “because he said so”, instead of any semblance of reason. It reached the point where other students were getting on to return home, and that spurred him to park the bus, say that he wasn’t moving until I got off, and threatened to call the police or physically removing me himself. I was panicked, so I did what my mind told me to do in the moment. I made my way off, asked for his name, which was like pulling teeth, and tried to call the office to make a complaint. He drove away, I was officially late to rehearsal, and then, I realized that I had no idea where I was.

My anxiety was building exponentially as I called the transportation office 3 times with no response before I realized there wasn’t going to be, because they are closed on the weekends. I then tried calling all my friends, with cars, to see if they could pick me up to no avail. Then, I had my first panic attack on the curb of a parking lot in an unfamiliar place, while people walked by with odd stares and no concern for me.  Then, I tried calling all and any family I could, my mom, you, Camille, and Auntie Roz and Auntie Julie, but no one answered.

Cue my second panic attack.

A friend called me back, I explained the situation, but they couldn’t come get me. So, I made the decision to call an Uber with the last $11 I had. On the drive, my mom called to see what was going on. She responded to the story by saying “Get over it”. Not understanding how triggering it was for me, or caring for how upset or shaken I was. I got out of the Uber, had my third panic attack in 40 minutes, and after, I noticed the time.

Rehearsal was over, and I cried.

I called my professor to apologize and after I explained what happened, he Venmo’d me for the Uber, but that’s where the resolution of the incident stopped. I did end up filing a complaint, and they took my side, but didn’t act on any of the solutions I asked for. After that, well, I spiraled.

Part 1 -- Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of parental abuse and physical abuse. Descriptions of threats, violence, verbal abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse. Mentions of Bipolar Depression, anxiety, PTSD, self-deprecating thoughts, self-esteem issues, people pleasing, rage. Saturday, Jan. 28th, 2023

2:16pm

My dad texted me early in the morning,

-This is my response to very bluntly and directly tell him off

and here’s what I said to him:

To Dad,

“Listen. I did disrespect you and I did curse at you. I’ll admit it, and I’m taking accountability for that. I don’t like being upset and I certainly don’t like yelling and cursing. However, what I did that day was lesser than what you deserved, you deserved worse. Now, I’m taking the time out of my day to respond to take another chance for you to take this opportunity to hear what I am saying and make a change. But, to be honest, my hopes and expectations for you aren’t high.

      First, I want you to understand that you will always be my dad and I will always love you. I care about you deeply, but it will have to be at a distance. Your behavior in how you treat Angel and I is deplorable and disgusting. You are selfish and narcissistic. You are controlling and manipulative. And, you don’t have proper self-reflection skills or any empathy for your kids. I’m sick of it, and I don’t have the tolerance for your behavior anymore.

      Time after time, you and I have had conversations, where you never ask me what is going on in my life in full. Every single conversation consisted of talking about yourself, or offering advice that had no relevance to anything that was happening for me. You constantly talk about how much you want to be a part of my life and how you wanted a “seat at my advisors’ table”, but you don’t deserve to because you never showed any real care or interest or attention to me and my life. This “highlights” thing you have is the only thing you care about when it comes to Angel and I, but that’s now what being a father is about. Being a good PARENT (not just being a father) is about raising your child to be their own individual, while you as the parent, help them along the way. It’s not just giving me money, “slapping rocks”, working out, and “highlights”. You should be there to listen to your kids, to tend to them, to be there when they fall, and to correct them when they go wrong. You do none of these things. The year that I was starting college, I had to continuously remind you of what my majors were because: you 1) never asked what they were, and 2) never listened and remembered. And that’s the SMALLEST example of how you treat me that I could think of. You have threatened to kill me, called me embarrassing, tried to tell me that I’m not man enough, and god forbid, try to manipulate me to turn into you.

      You never want to hear when I’m struggling or in a dark period, yet you think that you should be an “advisor” for me. What do you plan to advise me about then? You have never ever been there for me when I’m going through a hard time, but you think I should lean on you for what? Support? No, for money, right? Because that’s what you talk about all the time.

      I want you to sit and think about what you ACTUALLY know about me and my life because I guarantee that it’s not as much as I know about you, and what you SHOULD know about me. I feel like a prop for you to make yourself feel and look better. Either that, or you’re living through me vicariously with all the “highlights” you receive from me. And you expect me to not be hurt by all of that and much more from you?

      Did you know I have Bipolar Disorder? Did you know I took a break from college? Did you know I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from you and every other excuse for a father figure in my life? I bet you didn’t.

      I CAN”T HANDLE YOU BEING IN MY LIFE BECAUSE YOU. ARE. TOXIC. When I’m not feeling like you’re “molding me into your image” (which is something you have said out your mouth to me, by the way), you’re sucking all of my energy by me just trying to have a relationship with you. All these years, I’ve tried to adapt and change myself and “just deal” with you because anything with you is better than nothing. But, I realized after EVERY falling out we’ve had, you never sat down and thought about what YOU DID to ME. I was the only one trying to change and make things work, while you just  waited for me to come crawling back to Daddy. I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS. AND, I don’t owe you for anything that you have done for me, you’re a parent. You signed up for this.      So, going forward, I think you should go to therapy. I think you need professional guidance to realize how you treat people, especially your family. And, until that happens and you experience change, you and I will continue to not have a relationship. I love you to the moon and back, always will, but I will no longer tolerate your vile treatment of me. I am not just “your offspring”, I’m my own individual. Please, do me the favor of not contacting me again until you’ve grown.”

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of verbal and emotional abuse, su*c*d*l thoughts, PTSD symptoms, self-deprecation, anxiety, and depression.* Monday, Nov. 7th, 2022 Part 2

4:37pm

Here’s what I would say to her:

“To Angel,

I would like to have an open conversation please… I’ve been holding in a lot of stress and anxiety surrounding you, that I just don’t know what to do with. I feel so stifled, and like I’m only able to say or do certain things to avoid any negative responses or retaliation from you. I haven’t appreciated the way that you have spoken to me lately, when you are bringing up issues that you that you want to address with me. It comes off as condescending and that there’s no consideration for me in the “conversation”. And while mentally, I know that you are not coming from an ill place, emotionally and how I respond physically, I can’t tell whether or not I should be guarded with you. Because I’m scared… of what and how you will say things. 

When you are trying to give me advice, you don’t ask for consent, or if I have any experience in the matter. When you’re trying to teach me, it’s very abrasive and as if I’m dumb to not have known it before. When you are telling me to fix something or reminding me or helping me, it never feels like just that. It’s as if I’m being scolded like a child, or that I need to meet your standards and expectations of me. I’m starting to react to you talking to me as if I’m on the watch for an ambush.

There are better ways to approach these “conversations” that will be easier for me to receive, but I hate feeling like I’m walking on eggshells with you. I have processing issues that affect my memory and I’m recovering from severe, disordered eating habits, and it’s going to take a lot longer than 3 weeks for me to learn all the ways you like for the house to be maintained. So, instead of speaking to me in such a brash manner, I would greatly appreciate and prefer if you could change how you bring up issues or topics with me. Especially so that it comes off in the way you intend.

I feel like you disregard how many times I have said that I feel that I have to make myself small in a way that is so far from what I mean. I don’t feel like my being here in this place and this new facet of our relationship has really cemented yet, but you have fallen into this pattern of interacting with me as if you know me so well. It’s not the same for me, not even close. I’ve not started feeling like myself again like I should, and while my days here have been lighter and easier to deal with, it’s only that and nothing more. 

You have no idea of how I am actually doing or feeling or thinking because I don’t feel comfortable sharing it with you, nor do you properly check-in with me. At least, without it being in comparison to yourself. I’m literally alive only because you want me to be, and yet, I feel like I’m being picked apart and belittled for not saying or doing things the way you would. It’s controlling and does not make me want to approach you for anything other than what you must know. 

Like, I feel like I am just now learning who you are, and that you don’t feel the same because you keep saying that “you know me so well”, but you don’t. Not with us only building a relationship 3 years ago because, remember, we grew up on opposite sides of the country! There’s so much you don’t know, and it doesn’t feel like you even notice that you don’t. Yet, you jump to speaking to me in ways that I don’t need or want at this time. 

I just need a gentler deliver that isn’t accented with a vicious tone to then be excused by saying you want to continue these “open conversations” when you’re finished, when it has NEVER FELT MORE ONE-SIDED.

And, if it feels like you have to change the way you communicate, in order to talk with me, then I’m really sorry to have asked for such a truly difficult task like this, but I really need this at this moment in time.”

Part 1

*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

*Trigger Warnings: Su*c*d*l thoughts, Self- Deprecation,depression.*

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022

6:48pm

Dear Me,

I’m not really excited about my birthday this Saturday. I think that how I view my birthday directly reflects how I value myself. I convinced myself that I don’t matter as much or am worth much, so why celebrate? I don’t get to celebrate in any way that is enjoyable, if there’s a celebration at all, and the day I’m born doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

It’s a reminder of time passing and the stress of the unknown time to come. It’s like a checkpoint to see where I’m at and how much I’ve done in a short amount of time. I never expected that my life would go on for so long, which, inherently, is a good thing (apparently), but it scares me. 

I don’t think that I’m worth the effort, but I know that I would be upset otherwise.

So, let’s hope I feel better when the day comes…

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022 Part 3

4:35pm

I got emotional during our conversation a few multiple times, because I felt the need to defend myself against what she was saying. I’m very glad and proud of myself for speaking up for myself with how assumptive she can be. She was being harsh and aggressive about trying to get me to leave the house everyday, and I finally told her how I felt. I said to her that I have a lot of anxiety about going outside, in public, and that me appreciating my alone time does not necessitate going out. It’s a struggle to get out, and it doesn’t help that I’m in the midst of attempting to establish my own roots here. Trying to make this city, this moment in time, feel like mine. Thankfully (?), she calmed down, but she still pressed that she needed her own time in the house completely alone, like before I arrived.

So, I’m glad that Angel told me about this cafe, because I feel really comfortable here. I need to wake up earlier and figure out to leave the house quicker and be gone for a long time.

Part 1 -- Part 2

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022 Part 2

4:35pm

The second thing we talked about was Angel (again) needing to draw the line between her and Gem vs. me. She brought up how she needs to pour into herself, the same with Gem, but they haven’t been able to because they have been so focused on me (?) and their jobs. She also talked about how I enter the living room when they are having conversations between just them, and how I need to be more mindful of that. She then felt the need to say once again that she will always talk and choose Gem over me and to not take it personally, which I don’t (?). 

But, what’s bothering me is why this has to be a conversation topic that keeps coming up? I don’t mind if Angel or Gem don’t always tell me things and want to keep things within their relationship, but I’m not the one coming up to them asking for them to share things with me. They share a lot with me, to begin with, off of their own decisions to do so. Even though she said that she doesn’t want this to feel like roommates, I don’t feel that way at all. It feels uncomfortable because it feels like I’m invading their space and their relationship. 

I will definitely be more mindful of their conversations, and will try to leave the house more often to satisfy that need. I respect their relationship, but it’s not like it hasn’t dawned on me that they’re my older sisters and that my stay is temporary.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Tuesday, Nov. 1st, 2022

4:35pm

Dear Me,

I’m at the Brookside Market today, and there’s so much on my mind. First, when I woke up this morning, Angel (oldest sister) was in a bad mood and wanted the apartment to herself. I didn’t know what to do with myself because I needed the space too, simple as that. The apartment is a safe space that shelters me from the outside, from New York City, while I am still struggling. It concerned me that she was feeling bad and I wanted to give her space, but I also wanted to talk too, we haven’t talked one-on-one much at all. 

I ended up just staying to myself and offering to make her breakfast, to which she turned down. After I ate, she talked to me about me about my spending impulses after the heels I bought as a birthday present for myself arrived. She wants me to stop being so impulsive with “indulging” myself and stop spending my money carelessly. I told her that I never learned what it means to be responsible with money and practically took advantage of the money available. She was extremely frustrated and abrasive, and went towards assuming that I expect for money to always be there. That I expect people to cover my needs while I indulge in what I want. She’s right? I guess? 

Despite whatever negative consequences come, I just move forward with asking for more money when I’m in hot water, just to put myself in the same situation over and over again. I want to be smarter with money, not only for the purpose of learning, but to be successful with the life I want to live. I just need to be more conscious of how I spend. I need to think about the bigger problems more, and really use my money for my needs, instead of thinking about my immediate wants. I need to be more forward-thinking with my money WHILE using my money to provide for myself independently, starting now. All of my basic needs are being covered, but they won’t anymore. 

She decided that she and Gem are no longer giving me money, so I have to change and provide for myself. BUT, this is not to say that I want to rely on them or take advantage of them, ever (I haven’t even been spending their money when I’m “indulging”). I still feel really bad about my actions in response to them helping me, and I don’t want to continue those actions. To Angel and Gem, I’m so sorry for unintentionally hurting you and spending money that I have and that you gave me on unnecessary things, rather than saving towards my potential apartment or my subway card. It was not smart nor respectful to do so, and I promise to take this information (even with the nasty delivery) and be smarter with my money, and to learn from this and grow from this point onward.

Part 2 Part 3

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death and passing, grief, loss of family members, illnesses, and emotional breakdowns.*

Thursday, Oct. 27th, 2022 Part 2

4:46pm

Last night, Angel asked me about Granny (my great grandmother) and I told her about Granny’s conditions. After I answered, Gem asked me a lot of deep questions about how I felt about the situation. I’m not ready to witness Granny’s conditions firsthand, even if it’s over the phone. I feel this fear and pressure about addressing the situation. After I finished expressing that vulnerable feeling, she asked if she could give me a suggestion. I had the immediate thought and feeling of apprehension to say, “Not at this time.”, but instead, I nodded my head because I wanted her to feel that she had the space to support me. And, because of the pressure of her being Angel’s partner and the choice of saying no, seemed like a possibility for either of them to feel hurt by that. 

She then proceed to tell me things she wished she had done when time was leading up to her grandmother’s passing. She was extremely triggered and started to sob as she spoke. Then, Angel shared about her experience grieving her grandmother by celebrating her life, with photos and altars, and finding comfort in the qualities in herself that she got from her grandmother. Gem brought up her grandfather afterwards, and talked about that time while crying as she relived it. Angel was getting up and leaving, finding things to do around the apartment, through that part of the conversation as Gem spoke.

Once she finished, I told the both of them that I appreciated what they shared with me, and thank you. But, I really didn’t mean it. I appreciated that they wanted to help and support me, but what transpired and what they said was not what I was expecting or what I needed/wanted in that moment. When I said that I wasn’t ready and as I shutdown when thinking about what they were saying, I thought that it was understood that I also did not want to get in too deep either. Gem inserting herself in my moment of vulnerability with Angel at first, then speaking about her periods of grief while crying, shifted the conversation out of my comfort zone, worsened my fear and anxiety of my Granny’s health, and centered the conversation from me to her. It was triggering and much more emotional than what I wanted. While she and Angel spoke, it was so hard to stay present and not disassociate. I wasn’t trying to go through that and it left me feeling empty and numb afterwards. Throughout that conversation, all I was doing was imagining the many different scenarios of confronting Granny’s illnesses, her death, and after, I almost cried too as she spoke about her grandfather. It was filled with such heaviness. I wasn’t ready then, and I’m still not ready…

Part 1

*Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death and passing, grief, loss of family members, illnesses, and emotional breakdowns.*

Thursday, Oct. 27th, 2022

4:46pm

Dear Me, 

It’s a beautiful day today as I sit here at an espresso bar. It’s a clear, sunny day with a chill breeze, I feel comfortable without a jacket. This afternoon, I woke up at almost 1 o’clock, which is very late, but it felt amazing getting up. It was sort of a dead sleep, but because I fell asleep at almost 5:30 this morning, I guess it was worth it.

Angel was able to get her car, even though it was terribly difficult and infuriating. Gem has been really stressed lately and has a lot on her plate because of work, and it has me worried about her.

I feel like today has been probably the best day for me since I’ve moved to New York City 10 days ago. My mind is the clearest it’s been in a long while, and I actually feel more present. Life and the world around me feels tangible and touchable and I feel like an active part of the it today. I hope it lasts!

I’ve been listening to Demi Lovato’s new album lately, and I think that the pop punk/ pop rock genre might be a resonate genre of music for me. This album speaks to me in a way that Willow’s album did in a similar way. It’s an album filled with grief, longing, rage, desire, and love. I’m noticing that I’m gravitating towards the slower songs and those with interpolated meanings. This album is heavy with trauma and seeking relief, and I heavily relate and never knew I needed this album or genre in my life right now. I feel seen and heard by this album and it feels elevating as well as relieving to have this. I think my favorite songs are Substance, Eat Me, City of Angels, and 4 Ever 4 Me.

Part 2

This has me in tears every time I see it. Idk why but it just hits me so damn hard, everyone should see this.

Dylan Goodman Age 12 and Age 15 Dylan Goodman used to be the school bad boy and bully. People were scared of him and he liked it. Now Dylan is trying to make up for his past mistakes and he's realised just how stupid he was. He goes back to his old school and meets Jamie Hunter, a girl he once bullied. Despite their differences they become friends but Dylan is shocked at how much Jamie has changed. He knows she's unhappy and he wants to help her but she just pushes him away. Dylan's also got a few things from the past coming back to haunt him...

Just saw the most awful post under someone asking for some help paying for her childrens school supplies and clothes because she was in a rut. She also expressed working her hardest to get out of it.

People lack so much empathy for others that it literally makes me so sad. If that was them on the other side of that post they would want the understanding. But instead they resort to posting nasty things under the post. Which posting those nasty types of comments isn’t going to make nearly as big of an impact as they think.

Instead of judging people we need to support people. It really makes me doubt humanity as a whole and who we are. Like instead of breaking each other down… could we focus on building each other up! The world would be so much better if everyone was like that. But instead we’re a society who thinks that we have the right to judge and look into everyone’s life and assume that we know every single detail that makes up there story.

But we don’t. And we don’t need to. We just need to focus on spreading love and POSITIVITY 💜

To LET LOVE OVERRULE

This is a poem I just wrote, let me know what you think please.

Society teaches us what it's like to 'be a man' How to be 'a women' Thinks there isn't anything different That's why so many young people commit suicide I'd say boys and girls, but there is more than that I'm not foolish enough to think otherwise Though society teaches us at a young age that there is only that Nothing different from those two boxes they try to fit us all in They're wrong There is a spectrum, nothing is set in stone There is no right or wrong when it comes to who you are Don't let society tell you what it means to be anything Don't try to be anything other than yourself There is a strength in you that you don't know Asking for help is not weakness There is nothing wrong with letting someone else take care of you for awhile Strength is continuing on even when you think there is nothing else Strength is reaching out for help Strength is knowledge Knowledge is power Power is whatever you feel it is Nothing will change the strength inside of you Nothing will take that away from you It can't be forced out of yourself That strength is always there waiting for you to let it out Sometimes you need someone to help bring it out of you There is a strength in that itself Reaching out is one of the strongest things you can ever do Never let society or anyone tell you anything different Not even yourself Don't think giving up is stronger than asking for help Don't think asking for help isn't man enough Don't think asking for help makes you weak in any sense of the world There is a fire inside each and every one of you You just have to let it burn Don't let anyone tell you that your fire is wrong That you don't deserve that fire That your fire isn't yours to control That your shade of fire isn't yours That your fire is any less yours after someone tries to take it away from you Don't you ever let anyone tell you who you are Don't you dare listen to anyone who calls you weak You're all so much stronger than you know You're still here You're hearing or reading these words You're still burning strong That right there is strength Strength is beauty And you all are the most beautiful people Don't forget that And please never let anyone tell you anything different. You're all beautiful amazing strong people Don't let someone take that away from you It's not something that they can take away from you Only you can So don't listen to them Don't believe them Just keep burning That is true strength.

chang’e collab with @/springyylemons on insta! ze did the sketch/lineart and i finished it!

Removal

I created a blog @znowu-w-zyciu-mi-nie-wyszlo and I can't set it as my main blog. So, I will reblog some posts here.