#tw vent#void vents #my mom keeps comparing me to my sister! #i dont wanna be fucking like her! #fuck off! #im not a girl! #im not like her! #i cant be like her #i cant be her. #i cant be #i cant#shs manpulative #shes guilt truppy #i cant ebr hlike hre #i shoudl jsut fucking die #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicidal ideation #liam look away #rory look away
Yesterday i went to the bathroom, saw some scissors and cut my hair. I felt better.
Today im talking to some friends over zoom. Im excited.
Im happy. Maybe its going to last just today. Maybe its going to be a few hours before i want to disappear again. But right now im happy, im energetic, and im reminded that THIS, this feeling is why i must live.
This is a reminder to not kill yourself, because this feeling will come again. You will want to be here even if just for a moment. And its worth everything else. If you die today you wont be here tomorrow to feel this. Please stay.
Pooh Shiesty appeared in court wearing a “turtle vest” which is allegedly given to inmates that are on suicide watch.
Memphis rapper Pooh Shiesty appeared in court last week, where he had his bond revoked and was informed that he would need to remain incarcerated until he goes on trial. The rapper was arrested following a shooting incident at a Miami strip club. He allegedly fired a shot at the…
Anonymous said : what do you believe stands between you and complete happiness?
Me. “Well, that’s a complicated question, isn’t it? I mean, complete happiness… is that even realistic?” A laugh to hide the nervousness, but it doesn’t work, the fingers twisting together in front of her dress enough of a tell to give away what she doesn’t want to say.
What stands between herself and complete happiness isn’t a complicated question, it’s easy, it’s always been easy because it’s always been her, she’s always wanted things she shouldn’t.
Have you met me?
“I mean, everyone has different things that make them happy, right? And to different degrees.”
But it wasn’t about what made everyone happy, Jane knew that and she wasn’t confused. It was second nature to do this, to obscure, to deflect, to change the question by answering one slightly similar. She could make herself happy in small degrees, everyone could, everyone had little things that they enjoyed, but complete happiness… what a concept. Could someone be completely happy? Wasn’t being miserable at times required in order to appreciate your happiness?
Baking made her happy. Cool, breezy days with flowers coming to bloom. Rainy days with good books and cups of warm tea. She wanted that and more, she wanted someone to share it with.
But not just a friend, never just a friend.
People had different aspirations, they wanted to grow up to be ship captains or doctors or fashion designers, but all Jane wanted was to be married, to not be alone. Nine or nineteen, the age didn’t matter because the urge to belong didn’t burn away with extra candles on the birthday cake.
It didn’t have to be a wedding, she realized that over the years because there was more than one way to mark a commitment, not everyone wanted to be married and Jane could respect that. It didn’t take a wedding ring to make emotions real, but that symbol meant something to her, she liked symbols more than the ceremony.
It wasn’t the wedding, it was belonging, it was being with someone, and what an old-fashioned, sexist, childish dream. Little girls dreamed of their soulmate, but Jane remained obsessed with the concept long after everyone else outgrew it and turned to thinking about what they were going to be known for and what they would accomplish. Animal sanctuaries were nice, your own brand of hair care products would leave a lasting mark, who didn’t want a little bit of prestige and to make a name for themselves? They wanted something with weight, something substantial instead of a symbol proving that they mattered to someone, that they couldn’t be replaced with a nameless body from a nightclub.
Jane wasn’t like that, she knew what she was capable of. She could bake a dozen cupcakes for a bake sale and be congratulated on how light they were, she could plan a party without anything going wrong, she could sing without worries about being booed. An entire life spent going between school offices and helping arrange parties, Jane had talents and skills even if no one applauded them and didn’t need an award to know it. She had awards, they didn’t make her happy, they just gave her mother something to show off.
Her speed dial was nothing but teachers from school, work associates and officials taking the spots that should have been for people that were important to her and knew her as more than their boss’ daughter. Social interactions were business, Jane had a loyal customer discount at the best florist around and the honor of being on a first name basis with the owners of three catering companies, working and networking were part of her day to day life, it was her only life, and just because the media didn’t cover her with the same fervor of a princess didn’t make it less true.
None of that mattered, no accomplishment was enough to buy what she wanted in the eyes of others, of her mother. You worked, you were professional, you were business-like, and anything else was a disappointment and a betrayal to every woman that worked against sexism.
Did you want to set women back a decade? Did you want to say they belonged in the kitchen, that they weren’t good for anything but having children and looking pretty? Of course not, which meant shut up and go to work, don’t be disrespectful to all the progress they’d made, don’t be such a victim to the patriarchy.
Why couldn’t she want to be loved and support women being independent and career-minded while wanting a relationship? Why couldn’t she be soft and want someone to hold her hand without being told it made her weak? When did romance turn into a dirty concept and why should a relationship mean you weren’t living up to your full potential?
Who had the right to decide what her potential was and when it was wasted?
That didn’t need to be answered because the answer didn’t matter, it was selfish to put your happiness in the hands of another person, so incredibly fucking cruel to try forcing someone else to be responsible for your happiness.
It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair and that wasn’t Jane's goal. She could be happy baking a cake, she could watch a sunset, she could sing little lullabies and slice her sandwiches into triangles, recreate the moments of her childhood that made her feel special and were snatched away too fast, she didn’t need another person to do that for her.
She didn’t necessarily want someone to do it for her, either, she just wanted someone that would be willing to hold her hand during it and wouldn’t make her feel defective for needing to be treated carefully from time to time. What a joke, to think standing by her and supporting her could be a primary goal in someone’s life when there were so many other things they could be busy with, their own success would be their drive and who would want to hold a crybaby’s hand instead?
What a rare person kept Jane from feeling like she was a waste of their time and resources, someone that could look at her and Jane didn’t feel like she was found wanting in some way. (Rare, beautiful, incapable of being duplicated, she was so, so grateful.) It wasn’t what Jane expected from others and why would she?
When had she been first choice?
Folding herself up smaller, quietening down one interest and looking into some other hobby, Jane didn’t know when she’d first started working at making herself into the kind of person that could hold someone else’s attention, but it felt like she’d been trying and failing at it her entire life. A little origami girl meant to be folded up into a star, into a swan, into something appealing, but keep folding and you have a ball of paper meant for the trash.
Summer school every year, extra practice, advanced classes, skipping grades would have been so easy and yet she wasn’t good enough to deserve someone’s full attention. She was a commoner in a school of royals, subhuman around humans, she was short, she was chubby, she wasn’t what anyone looked for or wanted, an afterthought to be dealt with after the social interactions someone wanted to partake in actually ended.
Jane was a clipboard with a voice, the shadow in the corner of the room that made sure that things worked out, she wasn’t a person and according to her mom, the mark of a good event coordinator was that they didn’t go noticed. They made things come together for other people and didn’t disturb the picture.
How dare Jane ever forget she was a background character in every story, including her own.
Third place, twelfth place, tied with nameless thousands in obscurity, should it really matter? Shouldn’t just placing be enough to count for something when it came to not being alone, or was it necessary to be selfish and always want more, more, more, to not only demand, but plead for more than what someone was willing to give? All that happiness she had for happy couples, all the swooning she did over romantic gestures, it only lasted for so long before turning sharp and ugly, envy festering inside her like a sickness and would anything ever be enough?
You couldn’t make someone care, but you could push them away.
She’d read those books Silas sent and what was she supposed to learn from them? There was more than one type of love? The greeks taught her that, she knew that, but Jane loved books and even those had a lesson.
She expected too much, she needed to stop that, stop expecting that she could find someone that would put her as first in their life because what were the odds of that? Of finding your perfect match, of finding a soulmate, a true love, someone that would choose you and want to keep choosing you? She wasn’t the hero in a story, she was the sidekick, she was one of millions of people and logic was all Jane needed to know that she wasn’t going to be the person someone wanted to stick to when there were so many other options?
They called it ‘settling’ down for a reason, why would she think she deserved more than a comfortable ending, if that much?
She knew what people said, that if you wanted more, you had to demand more, but people could demand water in the desert and what did that get them but a faster death from spending their energy shouting at empty air? If you wanted to have high standards, you needed to be able to live up to them and Jane had made choices that removed her from consideration.
She wasn’t respectable, she was someone that went against her mother, she was used goods and not the kind of match that a good, upstanding family would want for their child. Jane didn’t even believe in the values of an ‘upstanding’ auradon family anymore, but it still hurt to know she wouldn’t be good enough, that she would be considered a tarnish on a family name for more than one reason. Painful, but not new, not a surprise because the world always fell into two groups.
Fae or Human. Isle or Auradon. Someone pure that was respectable enough to be kept, and someone that wasn’t pure and would only be taken by those wanting a temporary distraction.
Maybe that’s all anyone was, just a temporary distraction, but Jane could think of that without wanting to break into tears and be swallowed by despair.
It wasn't about exclusivity just like it wasn’t about marriage, she wasn’t that selfish because she knew she could never be enough for a person, it was about wanting not to be replaced, it was about commitment and wanting to be kept instead of discarded like trash, but that was such an extreme hope, wasn't it? She remembered being younger, wanting a boyfriend and wanting to scrub off all her skin, hoping that maybe if she dug deep enough, she'd find that internal beauty her mother was always talking about, but what was the use when the other kids had already told her she was so flawed that she had to be rotting instead? Part human and part fae, not enough for either, you'd think she'd be used to it by now.
So few people made her feel wanted, she begged for those scraps of attention like a starved dog, kicked and still coming back for more. Had anyone said she was wanted, or had she simply shown up and begged forgiveness for the imposition, wanting a corner to hover in while she longed to be invited to sit at the table like an honoured guest instead of the local ghost? So eager to get in, so eager to leave before she could be tossed out, to pretend like her presence could have been sweet since it was short.
I want you. I want you here. You’re welcome here. Those words would be like bliss for what they implied - Inclusion, a place, belonging, because it all circled back to the same thing, didn’t it? Being allowed to exist at someone’s side and not having to fight for the chance to be important enough to walk behind them like nothing more than an aide, suffering through sleepless nights and skipped meals just to prove she was useful, that she shouldn’t be replaced for at least one more day.
That was the only way her presence ever felt like it counted, if she worked for someone, and maybe if Jane was half as smart as her grades said she was, Jane would accept that was the only way she would ever be wanted.
Boring, bland little girl. Plain Jane, how many times did she hear that growing up? Why would anyone stay with someone that was like stale bread? Nothing interesting and exciting to see, nothing to keep someone’s attention if she ever managed to catch it, just a way to pass the time, a convenient port when there wasn’t anything better around.
Respecting yourself and holding out for more was well and good if you were worth something, but there wasn’t anything to gain. There were easier people to deal with that could hand out what Jane had to offer, people that could do it better, so playing hard to get wouldn’t amount to anything but running from ghosts. That starving dog that begged for scraps wasn’t in a position to turn its nose up and wait for roast beef, squandering your choices could lead to starvation, but crumbs gave you another day.
Some people would never be happy, they wouldn’t let themselves be, but happiness came in different shapes and Jane’s happiness could be someone’s idea of misery. Fae couldn’t love properly, they couldn’t love someone right, the children at Jane’s old daycare made sure she knew that, they taunted her for thinking she could be the princess in their game, for daring to believe with a child’s innocence that she could be someone’s magical kiss.
No one deserved that, to waste their time trying to love someone that couldn’t love them back right and what kind of person would Jane be to curse someone to be with her like that? They deserved better and it was too cruel to insist someone give her something Jane couldn’t give in return.
She thought she could love. She’d never said it to anyone and no one said it to Jane, but Jane wanted to believe that maybe one day it could happen, that she could love and be loved, that in a world where magic existed, she could be allowed to experience it at least once, at least for a little while.
Uma once mentioned immortality to Jane, a concept that never crossed her mind before and hopefully never would again. She wasn’t going to live forever, the idea of facing the ages alone was abhorrent and Jane recoiled from it instinctively. Things could kill her, she could be murdered or she could grow sick, but fading away from loneliness seemed like a possibility, or dying of a broken heart.
If she ever did find someone to love and be loved by, her life would end with theirs. It wasn’t a whimsy, it was a simple fact, a conscious decision on her part that was as good as a vow. They weren’t for everyone, but Jane enjoyed commitments and a girl that longed to know she wasn’t going to be sent away wouldn’t abandon a lover for eternity.
It was asking too much of her to experience love and then continue on without them, Jane wouldn't do it, refused to love someone and then let them go just because one lifespan was over. She wasn’t going to move on, she wasn’t going to forget them or replace them, how could anyone expect Jane to experience that joy of belonging and then give them up to return to an endless expanse of time?
It felt like abandoning them and eternity wasn’t worth it, not to Jane. She would choose love and if death dared take them from her, Jane would follow them. Her love would be eternal, not her life - She would make certain of it.
Damn her for it if she was wrong, but belonging somewhere was worth dying for and that was the big happiness to Jane, that grand one that the question meant, but it was too grand for her and Jane needed to stop expecting so much. She didn’t deserve it, she wouldn’t feel that gnawing hunger inside her at the sight of people around her benefiting from being loved if she was a good, decent person. Envy stole away her grace, left her longing to be the one people dreamed about, the one they missed, the one they wanted to stay with, the one they told ‘come with me’, but that wasn’t her, there wasn’t enough to her to grant Jane that value.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jane held it for a count of five and then released it slowly. There were many ways she could answer the question without telling the truth, evading uncomfortable truths becoming a specialty, but this felt like something she should admit to.
“Me.” She admitted finally, flattening her hands against her stomach to cease the fidgeting of her fingers. “I’m the problem. If I stop expecting so much and stop being such a perfectionist, maybe then I’ll be happy. If I stop being so envious and accept what I have instead of craving more, maybe then.”
Because in the end, it was all her fault, wasn’t it? She always did something wrong.
#rora sent me this question weeks ago and i finally finished answering it #warning it's like a 3k love letter to self hate and there's lowkey a suicide mention? #but probably not enough to tag for #⁕ do love a happy ending ⋯ [ answered ] #⁕ arc 03 ; kindness goodness magic ⋯ [ post canon ; main ] #⁕ believe in everything ⋯ [ inspo ]