For better or worse. Small scale or large. Personal or shared. What is an event you’ve experienced that changed the way you act, live, feel, etc. It could be short-term or long. Share what you feel comfortable with. Triumphs and tragedies alike.
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I was in a sport team for a while and they hadn’t been treating me well for a while. One day, I slipped and fell during training. Instead of somebody helping me up, the majority of the team laughed at me. Something in my mind snapped that day and it nearly led to my first ever physical altercation. However, my punch just turned into a feint with the thought “fuck this, I’m out”.
That was the day I learned not to let things boil until they explode. Put me into any salad and I’m not the calmest cucumber, but I have never let things get that close again and always speak up or just straight up leave before getting too heated. Life’s just too short to stay in a bad situation you can get out of.
I once learned that there’s seemingly two types of people in this world. People who laugh at other’s pain, and people who see someone’s hurt and go to them. The cruelest dips I’ve ever met are the laughers. The biggest hearts, of course the helpers. I have tried to make sense of it. Like…well laughing is how we handle things that challenge us so that it makes us feel better. But I really think maybe it really boils down to this. And I am sorry people literally took your happiness away from something you loved. Fuck bullies! You speak that truth there though, life is too short for that bs.
Some of us are actively working on ourselves every day, and understanding what makes you tick and how you got there is a big part of it.
Unfortunately I have a carrer that promotes derision, fortunately I’ve had a partner for 25 years helping me get my empathy back.
As long as you know your way home, you’ll be alright. People rag on love, because it’s seen as this cheesy thing. You know? But really, there’s something magical about a partner who can heal your soul. That’s good stuff, and I’m glad you’ve got someone who does that for you. Cheers!
President Trump. Lost my fucking religion at that point.
Interesting thought. So perhaps had I been pressured later in life, I might have been a smoker.
To add some positivity to all those sad stories: For me the most dramatic life changing event was the birth of my first child. Suddenly (okay, we knew for a few months, but it still feld like “suddenly”) we weren’t just a couple, we were a family.
100% the best thing in my life.
I have heard, although you know - not happening here as far as I know, that the birth of your first child is a wonderful event that sort of cements you into this larger web of the magic and mysteries of life. I’ve had two friends who recently had births, one who is doing quite well and the other who is struggling. But the both of them seem to be happier overall with their decisions. And the one who is struggling sort of has this struggle with or without the babe. So we always knew it was a possibility and the best thing that I can say is that the awareness and the love have truly helped them navigate the space they’re in.
Congratulations btw, I am glad you’re happy =)
It’s been ten years and we’ve got two now, but I think you can still congratulate. :)
This story concerns war and death, if you want to avoid those kinds of things.
I was 18 years old. I was an Infantryman in the US Army and had been in Afghanistan for a few months, when my platoon responded to an IED strike on another platoon in my company, while they were doing a dismounted patrol.
A guy riding a donkey laden with explosives made his way to the center of their staggered column formation (effectively two spaced out lines on opposite sides of the street), before detonating the explosives. It was particularly effective, because walls on either side forced the column in tighter than normal.
This point begins my memories, which are a disjointed collection of visual snapshots and a particular smell.
The first thing I remember is the smell, which I can’t accurately describe, but burned meat, chemicals, and some kind of feces is the closest I can get. It is easily the clearest part of the memory.
The next thing I remember is seeing the foot of the man responsible laying in the middle of the road and my immediate and overwhelming impulse was to kick it, since it was the only tangible evidence of a ‘responsible’ party. There were also two generally recognizable bodies in the ditch, as well as several casualties receiving medical care.
From this point it is a series of vignettes. One, I was setting down my radio pack and very clearly telling the lieutenant where it was, since the medics needed extra hands. Another is seeing one of the casualties smoking a cigarette. The last, and clearest visual memory was holding the hand of one of the casualties as we waited for the medevac bird, and trying to keep the mood light be telling him “hey, at least you don’t have to walk back to base”. I have no clue if he responded.
I have absolutely no memories following that day, for probably months, until another, somewhat less traumatic situation took place.
But yeah, that is the day that pretty much all of my emotions died. On my wedding day, I felt just a flicker of happiness. The only emotion I feel with any intensity whatsoever is occasionally anger.
That’s about all, I’m willing to answer questions of anyone is curious.
I used the toilet earlier.
Was it good?
As someone currently using the toilet let me tell you.
It’s pretty ok.
10/10 - would recommend =)?
Hahaha! Didn’t see that last bit. Just remember don’t sit there for too long at least so says reddit or you will die of hemmeroidal overdose.
When I was 6 years old, an older kid pressured me into smoking a cigarette. I didn’t get sick or anything. I just didn’t like it and decided one was enough. Never knew the best decision of my life would be made at that age.
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This is huge, and congratulations. I was talking earlier with my partner about how addiction is a social disease. And how drinking seems like this coming of age event that’s intertwined with fun and sex. But there’s a lot of people who never can walk away from that space and it’s just killing people.
Also people don’t see how damaging it is as compared to other addictions. But I legit had a friend who had to move away and live out of a shelter because the drinking was killing them. And they’re working two jobs just to make the cut, but they’re so much happier and healthier now than they were when they were in active addiction.
I’m glad you got the help you needed and I hope it stays that way. You got this!
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My birth was a pretty big event that changed my life drastically. I wish it never happened…
Depression is a bitch. I hope you can find some reprieve in other pleasures than imagining not existing somewhere down the line. I have a friend who got shocks and is much happier since. If you have the resources, and many other things failed to help - you might want to look into ECT. But also, yet again - not a doctor. Just saying I saw it actually help someone who had a lot of trouble existing. But also, there are a thousand different constructive roads to take ahead of that point. GL!
Thanks for the info, I’ll keep this in mind. Also, I’m glad to hear your friend got better.
Yeah, no worries! I know it sounds freakin’ scary because it’s like they used to do it in nut houses and torture people with it. But it’s way different now than it used to be. They said it does cause memory issues. So I will warn that. But overall way happier, I think because it zaps out all the stuff that’s been holding you down. I mean - I’m no doctor and I am just reporting on what I heard. But I hadn’t ever even heard about it being used and when I looked into it I was surprised it is in fact a valid treatment for depression.
Leaving aside the low hanging fruit that is my gender surgeries, the real answer is probably the covid pandemic.
I’ve been pretty resilient most of my life, but I kinda fell apart when covid took away all of my social connections and coping mechanisms. It was the lowest I’ve ever been.
It takes a few years to really reinvent yourself after a major social inversion. I did okay after ~5 years even with near total isolation. Daily exercise is absolutely vital for the endorphin balance.
That was part of my trouble. I love running, and I got pneumonia (but not covid) right at the beginning of the pandemic, and it took me about a year to recover from that. On top of that, I would regularly run parkrun, and play roller derby, but they both got shut down too.
All coping mechanisms that I lost access to…
It’s all back now, and even though fitness wise, I’m not back where I was, I’m getting closer every day
Big sads, do you feel like you gained your network back? Or is it still limping since pre-Covid days? Also, if you believe in these concepts and feel like sharing - do you consider yourself more of an introvert or an extrovert?
Also as a whole, have you found that your social network differs wildly from cis individuals? By that I mean, when I came out I lost a significant chunk of my own. And in living most of what I have now is either reclaimed (reunited in time) or self-gathered (found-family).
Big love, soul sister!
I’m a raging extrovert, and aside from workmates, I don’t think I have any cishet people in my regular circles.
I’ve got social circles again now, post covid, but they’re not the same as they were before covid. The local queer community used to have lots of events, and that used to be my connection to queer folks closer to my age, but a lot of that has dried up and then restarted, but now with a younger focus. And whilst I’m happy to be the elder queer who transitioned ages ago, it’s not so great for connecting with folk of my own generation.
But I still have lots of friends from then.
I used to play roller derby, and that’s gone from my life now (too old to start again), but I still love my running, and I’m a parkrun regular, which brings me around lots of people every week.
Work also gives me a lot of my extrovert social outlet needs :)
Haha! I realized I forgot to see if you had responded or not. Sneaking back. Sneakily. I’m glad you got the lot back, even if the faces have changed. Queers of all ages need assistance, flowing up and down - because it’s not like we work with a solid roadmap. We’re just like…really, really good improvisers =P!
Yoooo, to hard - you go so damn hard! Hahaha! You’re a roller-derbier? My rail thin ex would play, she got into it after that one movie with Elliot Page. Even though we’re worlds apart it’s comforting to know she’s out there kicking people’s asses (and could kick mine, if she needed). You guys are pretty much the coolest, hardest women alive. So kudos. Also on the park running. My partner just keeps moving us to more and more rural spaces. I think it’s driving me batty, but I love her like business. NGL though, I keep nudging her back towards the cities. Cause mama need that social cheese! But I am thankful I’ve got a handful of love bugs that I hope to carry with me for the rest of my time on this planet that keep me a float with all their loving.
It’s funny though, between you me (and the world I guess…hi!) I would have hands-down classified myself as an extrovert. A ravenous one as well. But to be honest, I spent the first x-odd years of my life not saying a thing. Then when I came out, people said I’d never get gals if I didn’t open my mouth. And so I freakin’ sang. I’m still a total cheese, but things have changed as I’ve gotten older. I’ve been thinking about classifying myself as a social introvert instead. But also, and this is the part that still kinda smarts, I’ve been battling a shitty-kake of thing that has really affected my energy levels. Like, you wake up and you never know what level your pain is going to be at or if your body is going to co-operate or not. And it’s really affected the way I interact with others on the whole, because it takes so much more effort to reach that base “me.” But before? I was a tour-de-force. Which kinda is what makes things stink. But I also have been practicing some big-time radical acceptance and haven’t been peeling off my face for stuff that’s outta my control you know? Like, it is what it is. And that helps with a lot of things.
But also, I guess on the cheekier side of things (muwhaha) I get some smiles over the fact that I got to live my big queerventure and have gotten to love so many fantastic people and hear their stories and share moments with them. And like, a lot of people don’t even get a taste of that. So I am really thankful for that, and in that sense it really puts a smile on my face no matter what happens in the end. I mean, also I’ve got a gal who loves me, and is sticking with me through all this crunchy shit. So that’s cool too =)!
p.s. - Big love soul sister <3~!
Seeing my first overdose and subsequent passing. I was 3 days into being homeless. It sadly got easier seeing it happen more and more often. At the time I knew it wasn’t something good, obviously, but I didn’t really react until much later. Out of all the horrible times I’ve ever gone through… that image of what a human body does as it’s dying… @#£&. It’s not good.
Know someone who died three times. They’re stone sober now, but it truly is awful. I mean in general. It’s all freakin’ awful. I was trying to think about solutions for those in active addiction. We can’t keep treating people like stray dogs. It’s absolutely horrible, especially for those who can’t hold their own (I am thinking here heavily on gender, but I know there’s other layers because the game is hard in the streets and you get absolutely wrecked being soft). I hope you’re in a better place now. And you’re able to maintain your addiction in some sort of way. There’s support groups out there just waiting for your stories. I personally think they’re safer over the phone, because it’s my take that certain people prey on others. As a friend of mine went to rehab and came out doing worse than going in. But all things aside, just glad you’re still here. Keep the peace!
I’m not addicted to anything nor was I.
Apologies - I read that as - you saw an OD and then three days later ODED yourself. Because often - when you’re in an area that people are ODing - you yourself are at a higher risk of it too. But yeah, I went back and saw how I read what I read - but also see what you’re saying and it’s solid that you were on the streets but never got addicted to anything because it’s super easy. And it really takes some solid conviction to keep yourself safe in a space where you’re vulnerable on all sides. I hope you’re in a better place now, regardless.
Aye, I didn’t mean to sound cross on my response to your post. Thanks for clarifying and I apologize for being, at the very least, short with the response I gave you. I appreciate it and yes, I’m definitely stabilized with housing now. 🤟
F YEAH! It’s getting from that shaky part to the stable one that’s the hardest. No worries, look I don’t know your life you know? You’ve clearly been through some shit, and it can get people super dee-duper defensive super fast. Cause I know I sure as hell am reactive. But also, you know - I read it wrong and this is al text. You good! Thank you for the apology though, I apologize too - cause I def made some assumptions. Big love <3~!
Thank you so much 🤙
I’ll give you the incredibly brief version.
When I was seven my mom kidnapped me.
I managed to get a hold of my dad 6 years later, but nothing bad ever happened to her because of it.
Following that, my mom and stepdad essentially locked me in my room from the time I was 16 until I graduated high school about 2 months after I turned 17.
I was the valedictorian, a year ahead of my class. Kind of neat huh?
Only, my stepdad would occasionally come in and just attack me. I was punished for not doing enough school work by being forced out of my bed at 6:00 in the morning to go and dig up stumps in the backyard or to pick up a 40 to 120 lb Rock and carry it from one corner of the yard to the other corner of the yard where there was a pile of rocks, pick up a different rock out of that pile carry it to the third pile and then back and forth over and over and over until sundown.
Then I would come in, be fed, and then have to do more school work.
I lost all of my friends. I lost all of my self esteem. The day after I graduated, I left with my dad, who was not aware of this because my mom lied to him about it.
I was pretty wrecked and my dad didn’t know how to cope with that so he gave me a truck and sent me back after about 5 or 6 months, and not having anywhere else to go I moved back in with my mom.
Literally a month later my stepdad tried to pull some shit and told me if I didn’t go to work when they were leaving that I should pack up my stuff and not be there when they get back, so I packed up my stuff end of the truck my dad gave me and left.
I was homeless for about 2 years couch surfing with friends and trying to get my shit together and I was reaching out to God for help.
And on the first real date of my life I went out with this girl, we saw a movie, we got high we came back to my room at my friend’s house and had sex.
And it was not very good all the way around, but then after I took her home and dropped her off it was like the scales fell off of my eyes, a bolt of lightning came down from the heavens and struck me hard in the heart, and I became aware of all of the sins I had committed in my life. All of my failings. All the things that were wrong with me.
And I was so broken I couldn’t even cry, honestly I may have actually cried once or twice since then.
I was devastated.
And it’s like, all the things that I thought I would be when I grew up went away. I could deal with the shit my mom and my stepdad pulled and I could deal with not being understood because I had a destiny and I had a dream and I was going to make it, and then I found out I was just a piece of shit, a crappy worthless human being whom, if I had never been born, the world would be a better place.
And there’s a lot I’m leaving out but yeah, from that I started trying to rehabilitate myself. I’ve gone from being a worthless piece of shit to being useful fertilizer I guess.
I still have a long way to go and I don’t know if I’ll make it.
Isn’t it fucked up how much life can crush you when you have absolutely zero agency you can flex. Have you heard about Open Path yet? Cause you can give it a look and see if you vibe with anyone. You might be able to find someone that can assist you on your journey of healing. There’s also some kind of really solid freebie group therapy system online. But I absolutely do not have the name. Someone else might. It’s like a series of groups you can grow including domestic violence and complex ptsd. The only thing I want to say is be careful around substances, because it’s really easy to fall into them but you never fall out even if you step back from them. And the way street drugs are nowadays you’re never getting what you think you are. Also, I don’t know what gender or age you are specifically - but I do know that a lot of young hurt men can be at higher risk for self harm. So if you notice anything creeping into your system, try your best to reach out for help. Even if you don’t say it, just crowd your time with others and it’ll pass. Either way, what I did with the things I strongly disagreed with between my folks was I just attempted (and still do) to do the opposite of the thing I disliked. Step-parents can be real pieces of shit, because what skin do they have in the game? At least, if they don’t want to. You’re just free-labor. I watched my younger sibling become that to a certain someone in my life, and to this day I don’t know how a grown ass adult can be so stupid to lord over a kid like that.
Just try and stay strong, utilize any services you can - no shame. Break down big goals into smaller achievable actions. And if you are disabled in any sort of way, know there’s also services that can assist you through getting…assistance =P! Also no shame in temp agencies, if you have the means to get around. Lastly, all things can be replaced or live on in your head. But you cannot be replaced. So no matter what you lose, it’s all just stuff. I’ve lost so much crap over the span of my life. I don’t care anymore. I pack light, live light - and actually feel wealthier for it - because I can move at the drop of a dime if I want and I don’t feel bogged down by THINGS! Which is a blessing in these modern times. Sometimes I get sad about some of the things I’ve lost. But I made a conscious decision to keep a small assembly of things that are meaningful to me that I can slide into a backpack and don’t take up too much space. And you might want to put something together like that too. Because it’s really nice to go back and see decades of stuff from people I love who may or may not exist anymore or little magpie things from events.
Oh, one last thing. Backsliding hurts, but as long as you keep going you can make it through. But also make sure you do nice things to restore your energy cause it fucking sucks to get dragged for so long only to get dragged again. It makes you want to give up and sink. But it’s worth the fight, trust. And if you’re younger than thirty - things get so much better in your thirties. Idk? Because I sure as shit am not in that much a different space than in my twenties. But I for sure feel better as a whole. Even though my body is in a constant battle to crush me. Which, btw - please address your pain as best as you can because this shit will kill you one way or another and I don’t think I would ever be as sick as I was had I not been picking up stress without putting other bits down. So GL, GJ - You got this! Keep going!
*p.s. - Moms don’t get in trouble for kidnapping I don’t think. But also I heard that most amber alerts are due to a parent kidnapping their own kid most times. But all kidnapping situations are totally shit - and I wish they didn’t exist on the real.
I’m not who you were talking to, but thank you for this comment. You’re so very kind and it’s beautiful. You’ve helped me and I appreciate you so much. You totally rock! 💖
Zoop <3~!! I am just passing on the love given to me by many kind folk. Big love =)~
You are worthy of love, of being loved, and with help you’ll make it.
That’s a lot to have been put through. But you’re still here so that counts, in really huge ways.
Start here: HAVOCA – Help for Adult Victims Of Child Abuse. ”Every Survivor has the right to become a Thriver.”
I imagine you are hard on yourself all the time. The people who should’ve been there for you unconditionally taught you that you’re never good enough.
I’m convinced we are all fundamentally equal because of our soul, so trying to prove yourself is sort of a silly excercise.
What you mentioned about scales falling off reminded me of mindfulness. You wake up and you go like wtf am I doing?
I am very sorry to hear that happened to you.
I was punished for not doing enough school work by being forced out of my bed at 6:00 in the morning to go and dig up stumps in the backyard or to pick up a 40 to 120 lb Rock and carry it from one corner of the yard to the other corner of the yard where there was a pile of rocks, pick up a different rock out of that pile carry it to the third pile and then back and forth over and over and over until sundown
Nazi concentration camp guards used to torture prisoners by doing this to them. Many of those subjected to this committed suicide by running into the electric fences or charging the armed guards.
I clearly remember there was one time when I had a pickaxe in my hand and I was digging up a tree stump for punishment over something and I asked my stepdad if I could get the pickaxe sharpened to make my job easier and he said no.
And then he turned and walked away and clear as a flash of lightning I knew in that one moment that all I had to do was use this inordinate amount of strength that I had and take that pickaxe and drive it through his skull and this current misery that I am in would end.
And I’m glad that I didn’t do it, but sometimes when I’m perseverating I think about that moment.
Have you done therapy about this?
@bizarroland @cashmaggot Hey, I don’t know what this will mean to you coming from a complete stranger. You’ve clearly never had a mom, though, or a dad, so let me share with you what they never did.
You are not your past. You are not your things. You are not your circumstances. The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.
Those experiences don’t have to define you. No one else is allowed to tell you what your worth is or who you’ll be. The person you were yesterday is dead, and the person you are tomorrow doesn’t exist. There is only today, there is only ever today. So somewhere inside of you, I want you to think really hard about who that person is, who you are. If you don’t like what you see, that’s okay. I think we’ve all been there. What’s important is that you decide what matters to you, what your values are, what your worth is, who you’re going to be, and then you live it. It takes time and practice, but what doesn’t? Who was born knowing how to ride a bike, or swim, or count to a million, or anything else? Just work on it, every single day, and you’ll make it.
Big love, you love bug <3!!!
I ended up restoring my relationship with one of my parents, which has been nice because I’m a goober and I love a good phone call. And while I’ve put a buhjillion miles between my birthplace and my current spot - I do like talking with those I reconnected with. But also, my partner lacks a family. Which makes us substantially weaker as a whole against the support network of others. Which is rough, to be honest. But she always says we’re like monkeys helping one another up the tree. And to be perfectly honest I love her to death, even if she drives me batty-bonkers.
I agree with you though. Although I will say I am a heavy reminiscer, and have battled this mental math of existence only being this moment (be here now). But I sometimes think of it as a super power, because I can recall things that most forget and can give play by plays. And while I know memories can be faulty, I like that there’s some part of my brain that likes to record things. Because it makes for great fodder for better or worse with creative endeavors =P!
Big hugs, big love! Keep sharing the good stuff and keeping people afloat!
One thing I could mention that was crazy was right after Trump had been elected. I went to the Women’s March in Chicago and all kinds showed up. But the crowd that had gathered was more than could be handled, so they shut it down. But then everyone started marching anyways. And we all went in this large square, ending at the Trump Tower. There were so many signs, and even though I had a really basic phone (like actual dumb phone) I pulled off some pictures that I still look back at them in awe. One of the sillier things that happened there were these two white chicks were dancing together on top of trash cans singing negro spirituals and myself and these two black chicks in front of me who were slipping through the crowd all laughed our asses off. Towards the end, my friends and I split and I hopped up into The Cultural Center and looked outwards at the dispersing crowd. And I took a video on my fantastically dumb phone, and it captured so perfectly the chaos of the event paired with the beauty of that city. But it was also so surreal in some way, as I was the only one around at the time. Not even the guards were there. And it was so silent. And I sat in a room filled with quilts, and stared out at the city I loved and felt so much pride for the people who came together to try and show the world that they don’t buy Trump’s bullshit.
I mean also not to brag, but we scared his ass off when he came through =P! So yeah, it was all really nice to see. And it was completely non-violent. Which I also like, because as protests went on things got grottier and grottier until whole cities were total chaos pits. But it was a nice thing to experience.
I stuck my dick in crazy.
Life pro tip: don’t stick your dick in crazy. Just avoid crazy altogether.
In my defense, I was 20, she was the first person I ever had sex with, and I was too horribly depressed to recognize what a bad idea it was.
I also stuck my dick in crazy. Terrible idea. The main problem was that I was too dumb/dense to see the red flags, one of them being my mom, of all people, not liking her.
It was good sex, I was her first, but I didn’t want to make it anything other than some no-commitment flings. Once I started a proper relationship with another woman later, crazy stalked my gf online, full of threats. Crazy ended up in a psychiatric ward about a month later and her mother called me, asking me to “please go visit her, she loves you from the bottom of her heart”.
Against my better judgement, I actually went. The place looked like an insane asylum that should’ve been force-closed decades ago. Horrible smell, filthy, the inmates (dunno if that’s the correct term, but feels appropriate) pretty much relied on relatives for any hygiene. Crazy hugged me, but I was just so appalled with the place I didn’t even know how to react. She got out about a week later and her mom was still trying to play cupid, saying she was much better now and wouldn’t skip her meds anymore, but I told her I was happy with my girlfriend and blocked her.
I once went absolutely flat broke fucking down on someone, but the ass was soooooo GOODDDDksfha;lksfhafklhasf!! But also you know, not worth it. But still kinda a “damn” thought in my head. Hahahaha! But really, you get SO DUMB when you’re thinking with your downstairs bits over your upstairs bits. Or like, in conjunction =P! Hormones~~~~
You know what? We’re so dumb when we’re er…young, dumb and full of cum =P! No, but really - we’re SO FUCKING DUMB! My gal comes in the other day and she’s singing a song about how she loves pussy. And it made me think about this one black lady who was on the tv saying dick will make you slap somebody. But it’s true though. Like - that thing that you love can make you so damn stupid and weak and do crazy shit and go against your boundaries even if you think you’ve got them set in concrete. I swear to god I grew the fuck up when I realized that I don’t need to be leaning in to that part of me anymore. And instead can just like - be a person who wants to spend time with another person. However that is. Like it’s just so much more chill. But also, and this is just my thoughts on the matter - some of my most beloved folks are bipolar. And I just found out another one of my lovies has BPD. And I love the whole lot of them flaws and all. And I also have some lovies who have had addiction issues. And I myself am a smattering of whatever this energy is that you see before you (medicated yet absolutely insane ADHD!?) - which is to say that I think there’s a lotta stigma against dating folks with mental disorders but that you know - they’re human and most definitely loveable. And while I do think there’s a level of chaotic energy that is just not healthy to be around. The kind that acts like life is a movie, and there’s a camera that’s always hidden right “off screen” so they always are bringing this dramatic energy. But there are also as I said before a lot of people who have been pushed aside by life by so many and are just little love bugs out here trying to be the best them they can be. And I have a lot of love and respect for that. But also know about women who’ve used babies they’ve had young with men as weapons. So you know, I hear you. Glad you learned what not to stick your dick in =P! Hope you got that good pussy now (iffin that’s what you’re still sticking stuff into).
Oh - and super not depressed or having a way to manage that depression. There’s a scene in Beasts of the Southern Wild here the main character and her father are shouting at each other “WHO’S THE MAN!?” “I’M THE MAN!” And I do that internally whenever I get down. Because it pumps me up, but it’s also so tender it gives me a heart boost too =)! Was trying to share the clip but all I found was this three second waste of space.
Does being adopted count?
Sure as hey does! Congrats? As in foster kid -> adoptee or as in adopted at birth? Cause I think one can be sweeter than the other. Most individuals I have known who were adopted at birth tended to not be the ethnicity of their adopters and it always kinda messed up their head in that “searching for self” kind of way. But that’s not to say people shouldn’t adopt kids, let alone kids of different ethnicities. I just mean that it can spring up an issue that will need some tending to down the road.
Reminds me of that scene from Super Mario RPG with Mallow who was adopted by frogmen.
“I’m a frog, but can you believe it? I can’t jump. Embarrassing huh?”
I was somewhere in between. I had been born for a while but still baby-ish, it wasn’t like Narnia where I was old enough to absorb it. My adoptive parents were a different ethnicity but looked enough like me to pass. Legend goes they told me about being second-hand parents early on and I was oddly skeptical enough that little me laughed in their face.
Hahahaha! This is very cute. It’s something you’ve got to approach when ethnicities don’t match right? I had the issue growing up in a very mixed family. We had a lot of skin tone variation, and we had long distance family you know? And I legit thought Uncle Ben was my uncle - because my ma would be talking about how certain uncles would be sending stuff - and I thought our uncle had sent rice or something. And how fortunate we were to have an uncle sending rice =P!
Now there’s an uncle who knows that with great power comes great responsibility.
To all you long-distant uncles out there, send your loved ones stuff because they will grow up thinking you’re way richer and way more powerful than you actually are and you can use that to flex!
