triggering content below , check the tags to make sure it’s safe for you to read. kind of an explanation of what’s been going on with me / my lack of productivity / how the next few weeks will be :
so , my dad passed away february 7th , 2013. he wasn’t my biological father but he was my dad which meant more. he had liver cancer and i took care of him until he passed in an at home hospice situation. i never take this time of year any better. in fact , today ( january 21st ) is when we were told treatment would no longer work. it’s why i have such a visceral reaction to cancer content and it triggers me into a spiral.
last night i made the mistake of watching euphoria and ep 2 really kicked me in the teeth. i had a full blown meltdown because rue taking care of her father and seeing him that sick was like watching a super 8 of my past.
no one in my family understands why it’s such a big deal to me. they think because it was 9 years ago i should be fine now. my pain is invalidated all the time when they remind me my brothers have it worse because they were his and so young. they fail to remember 10 years earlier my absent biological father was murdered. three years after i told him i wanted nothing to do with him because of his broken promises.
needless to say , i’ve got issues. i’ve tried medication , therapy , etc. medication made my preexisting mental illnesses worse and therapy was always counter productive + i have none near covered by insurance. i’ve had to deal with all of this on my own. my understanding and caring bf can only do so much. except now i’m realizing i’ve fallen into a pit of abusing medication just to feel numb.
i’m not asking for help or pity or whatever. but this is why i’m socially distant. this is why some days i’m lucky to pull myself out of bed at 3pm. this is why it’s so hard to function. all i can say is that i’m sorry and i hope you all can understand. thanks. <3
"IM GUNNA MURDER EVERY SINGLE CHILD I EVER SEE THAT LITTLE GIRL IN THE GROCERY STORE IS SO FUCKING ANNOYING I HOPE HER MOM BEATS HER"
#tw abuse #tw child abuse #and then theres me who says i hate kids bc its better for parents if i don't watch them #i can never say no to the little buggers they're gonna get cavities and concussions #'sure you can climb that tree' #i actually love kids i got to play with my little cousins over chrimmus #wade is 4 aberdeen is 2 they wanted me to play pretend and hide and seek #as a middle schooler i volunteered to help at a summer school and helped 3rd and 4th graders for a week for two summers #my favourite cousin is 11 and hes so fucking sweet oh my god #i was the leader of a pack of kids on the bus as a fifth grader #we sung pink fluffy unicorn #i dont like babies tho theyre gross #kids are so carefree
#persona#vent art #I'm stuck out here because nobody's around and I don't want to just Think I'm God again #because that shit's fucking terrifying #i just wish i could act out sometimes #not be scared of the consequences i really fucking deserve it #BUT NOOO I have to suppress everything because my fffffucking MOTHER #[forcefully stops] I can't talk about her. I had to fucking parent her and that still hurts way too much to realize. #I was a BABY and I had to LOOK AFTER A GROWN ASS ADULT. I WASN'T EVEN OLD ENOUGH TO FORM MEMORIES #NO FUCKING WONDER I CAN'T DO ANYTHING I HAVE HAD TO SUPPRESS BASIC NEEDS SINCE DAY FUCKING ONE #tw ??? #for this specific post don't hold concerns over me I'm just feeling a lot in a short time
#tw drug mention #tw bad parents #tw child neglect #tw child abuse #tw childhood trauma #thank you for the ask!!!!! forehead smooches #les mis#les miserables#les amis #les amis de l'abc #transmasc feuilly #les mis headcanons #modern les mis #hc ask game
i’m failing and you would argue it’s my fault. “what are you doing about it?” you’d ask. i’m doing what you told me to do—my best. however, i’m learning that my best isn’t enough, no matter what you say. you say “just try your best!” then sigh with disappointment when my best wasn’t as great as you were hoping, expecting even. my brain is blocked and i don’t know how to fix it. any outlets that would allow me to cure it are out of the question. i don’t have time for that. so i sit here, every concept dancing in my brain, but refusing to settle. i sit here, unable to retain the information. i sit here, knowing that i am the one you blame. your words are hollow when they’re followed by that iconic sigh. the sigh that tells me more than any word your lips would ever form. you’re frustrated. you admit it. you say, “we’re just frustrated.” yes. you’re frustrated with me.
so what am i to do? it’s no longer about me or my well being. we’re running out of time! we must finish or you won’t graduate!
despite everything being tailored, somehow it is still inaccessible. i can’t breathe. my days are long and i learn nothing. i hold myself together until i break and you swoop in to say, “how can you make this panic attack stop?” how useless you are! the panic attack is no longer the issue! the issue is the cause! the cause you can’t see because you are one with it! you try to help, and from time to time you do, but can’t you see? can’t you see how tragically that’s working?
you sighed this evening. disappointed in the results of my chemistry test. you say, “if you had just stopped and read the problem and thought about it more…”
i did think about it. but my mind is injured, i can’t see the things i used to. your words have an ultimate meaning: “maybe if you had just tried harder.” my best is not enough. couldn’t you tell i was crying for help? couldn’t you see me gasping for air? you say i’m blind for missing what is obvious to you. i disagree. you are the blind one. you are the one who cannot see.
oh? what did you say? i don’t speak up enough? it wasn’t clear? perhaps. but then again, why speak up only to be silenced? don’t say i’m not silenced, your words are daggers and their points are evident enough. i speak and you say my words are wrong. i cry to you, begging you to only listen, but you refuse to hear my words. there is nothing left i can do. your disbelief in me has clouded your eyes and my words and actions are only one sided to you. i am left with nothing more.
i won’t apologize, for i have done nothing wrong. i give you my best and you blame me for it not being enough. i bide my time. i can cry no more.
i am over here totally willing to spend a billion dollars on a doordash order which is likely going to end up at the wrong address anyway rather than just leave my room for 10 mins to make food
#i should just wait til midnight until they're asleep honestly #i hate them so fucking much but i know they would not be very happy if i slapped them when they try talking to me #like i love that child to death and he doesn't deserve the trauma his mom is giving him but also i wanna put them both in a #garbage compactor so i never have to see them again #i miss when it was just me n my parents here. and my brother god i miss him #i dont like my dad but at least i actually feel safe around my mom even tho she isn't the best person ever #sorry for venting on main i'll probably just take a nap so hopefully i wake up around midnight or smth #vent tw#vent #🔪.txt #fine to rb only if ur responding
TIMING: Early Last Week
SUMMARY: While feeling lost, Metzli seeks help so they can start reclaiming their life.
WARNINGS: Addiction mentions, Domestic Abuse, Parental Death
Metzli never feared being hated, knowing that the very second they were born, hatred surrounded them. What they did fear though were those that inhabited hatred like it was a red bricked house that was held together by antipathy. They feared basements. They feared enclosed spaces. And when they were younger, they feared the dark, too. But now they were the dark, and maybe that meant a part of them feared themselves. They were a monster that couldn’t really feel anything. Marley was right when she told them they were just a danger without a soul. Their first connection was tainted by them, by their inability to decipher and accept their true existence as an ancient vampire with an inability to properly connect and love. Because for as old as they were, they had a stilted misunderstanding of connections. Too old to connect with younger adults, but too petulant towards people their age, or at least older. The only guidance they had were ones of abuse and manipulation, and watching as others had at least a chance or even a small piece of positive parental guidance made them feel a little hopeless.
That hopelessness they felt landed them in front of the Summers’ residence. The couple, though unaware of the supernatural world, were probably the closest Metzli could get to parents. Oliver and Allison both took interest in the vampire, even extended gentle hands out to them. And unlike Eloy, or Baltazar and Lupe, their touch was warm and kind. Parental in every way it should be. They knocked hesitantly, watching as the door opened slowly to reveal Allison. Tears had already ravaged their cheeks, leaving glintful and puffed eyes to stare. “Hi, Mrs. Summers.”
Allison Summers liked to think of herself as a simple woman. Intelligent, but simple. Even as a child, she didn’t dream of great loves, and million dollar mansions. She knew she wanted a family, she knew she wanted to become a doctor, and had determinedly set her mind to both. With her successful career, alongside Oliver, and Milo, she was so close to everything she had ever worked for. If she could have her way, like any loving parent, Milo would be with her now, helping to plate the meal she had cooked, and dutifully setting the dining table. But she had long since come to terms with the fact that her life was never going to be perfect. Variables were inevitable, and if a puzzle piece was the wrong shape, you couldn’t force it to fit. There would be times where Milo stayed home, and reciprocated her affection. And there would be times where she wouldn’t know who he was with, or what he was doing, or whether he was even alive. She had grown to find comfort in small, insignificant details. A survival tactic. Like the way Oliver’s mouth quirked whenever she walked into a room. Or the way he always set the table without her needing to ask him, making sure there was room for their son in case he spontaneously decided to join them. Or the way Oliver always joined her for dinner at the table, regardless of how tired he was. Despite their busy schedules, they always managed to make time for each other.
Humming under her breath, a song she couldn’t remember the name of, she was halfway through dishing out a side salad when there was a quiet knock at the door. Hearing Oliver move in the next room, she hurried to brush him off. “I’ll get it. Can you finish with the salad?” Hearing his murmur of agreement, she made her way into the hall, nervous to see who might be visiting so late in the evening. As she entered the corridor, memories began to resurface. Nightmares she would wake from so sure there was somebody outside. Somebody waiting to tell her Milo had been arrested, or rushed into hospital. More than once she had stood on the porch in her robe, waiting for a call that would never come. But when she pulled open the front door, there was no officer, or paramedic. Only Metzli, tear stained, and uncertain. So many emotions ran through her in the second it took her to recognise Milo’s friend. It was difficult to process them. Shock, concern, dread, and an overwhelming sense of fear. Maybe her nightmare’s were wrong. Maybe the news wasn’t going to be delivered by a professional in uniform. Maybe Metzli was here to tell her the worst had finally happened. Raising a hand to cover her mouth, a vain attempt to compose herself, she exhaled, a short, and unsteady breath. “Oh god… is Milo…”
Of course Milo was her first concern. He was her child, her only child and there was no room for a nobody. Metzli wasn’t upset or angry at that truth, just embarrassed. Allison wasn’t their mom. They didn’t have one anymore, they never truly had one and they had no right to search for one in someone else’s. “N-no. No.” Their body began to shake, another tidal wave of pain crashing in them, spilling out from their eyes. “Milo is safe. He’s at home.” A thick ball caused their words to be strained, difficult to speak through or swallow. “I keep him safe…And I…should go. I’m sorry.” If they truly felt sorry at their core, they didn’t know. The language of apology was not one they knew well, only having taken a short refresher course when they had their soul returned. But not all languages used words or a voice, a lot of the time they used actions. And they were sorry that they thought this would be a good idea, so they chose to take the action to leave. “Have a good night, Mrs. Summers.” They turned to go, trying to form a plan on where they could go, on what they could do.
The relief that washed over Allison was so strong she had to will herself to stay standing. But she soon managed to find her strength. Her motherly instincts almost immediately moved focus from her son, to her son’s closest friend. Maybe Milo didn’t need a mother right now, but Metzli did. And she could be that for them, at least to the best of her ability. “I know you do- I know you do, honey. It’s okay.” Stepping back from the door, allowing Metzli enough room to pass her by, she gestured for them to come inside. “Why don’t you come in?” She prompted, keeping her voice soft, and maternal, already anticipating hesitance. When Metzli continued to say goodnight, turning away in a bid to leave, she reached out, closing the distance between them to tentatively take their wrist. Her profession meant she knew better than to touch somebody without their consent, but her action was the result of panic. Metzli was upset. It wouldn’t just be unfair to let them leave, it could potentially be dangerous. Releasing her grip the moment she realised she had overstepped, she offered Metzli an apologetic smile. “I can’t make you stay, Metzli. But Oliver and I would be happy to have you for dinner… would you like to eat with us?” She asked, holding Metzli’s gaze, hoping to convey the sincerity of her offer. “Would you?”
Metzli flinched, the pressure and sudden jolt of touch caused them to recoil like a hurt child, retreating at the same time as Allison did. They waited for the attack, the punishment that came with touch from a parental figure…but it never happened. Their eyes opened slowly, feeling a little ridiculous that they, a powerful vampire that could rip her in two, feared her. The vampire even towered over her, but they still felt so small. “You would?” They were baffled, but incredibly relieved. Answering with a nod, they entered the house rigidly and immediately felt out of place. “I’m not really hungry. My appetite is pretty…” Nonexistent. Only applies to blood. Real food was something they had long forgotten and they never really liked it. Not the food they were served anyway. It was always stale or rotten. But the look in Allison’s eye made them falter and change their mind. “It’s up and down. So I don’t need too much if that’s okay.” They could manage a few bites of insubstantial food in return for their intrusion. “I’m sorry to visit out of the blue. I honestly just didn’t know where to go. I didn’t really have anywhere to go.”
Noticing the way Metzli recoiled from her touch, Allison slowly held out both of her hands. A makeshift surrender to help them understand she wasn’t going to touch them again. At least not without their permission. “Of course we would. A friend of Milo is a friend of ours.” She hurried to assure the vampire. “And you look as though some company might be just what you need.” Feeling a sense of satisfaction when Metzli crossed the threshold, she closed the front door before leading the way into the dining room. Unable to hide her disappointment when they insisted they weren’t hungry, food was always her first choice when it came to offering comfort, and the idea of them watching her eat with her husband, especially without a plate of their own, made her sad. Maybe she was a little too obvious because her guest very quickly changed their mind. “We’ll give you a regular portion, and you just eat whatever you feel like eating, how’s that?” She asked. “You can always take home the leftovers.” Smiling easily at Oliver as they both entered the dining room, her husband looked up from his task, having just placed down two full plates of lasagne. His expression lit up with surprise as he recognised Metzli, but before he could say anything, Allison crossed the room to reach him. Pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, she rubbed his arm as she murmured under her breath. Oblivious to Metzli’s enhanced hearing, it was the best she could do to be subtle. “Could you make up another plate? Metzli’s going to be joining us for dinner.” Careful to use a tone that indicated there was more to the story, Oliver glanced back over at Metzli, noticing their state and immediately composing himself.
Instead of becoming quiet, and reserved, he exaggerated his joyful exterior, hurrying to the kitchen to make up an extra plate. It was something she loved about him. He had the ability to light up a room, and always knew how to utilize it when somebody was feeling down. Turning back to Metzli as he disappeared into the kitchen, she wasted no time in pulling out the extra chair, encouraging Metzli to take it. “This is where Milo usually sits.” She admitted, running a hand affectionately across the back of it. “I can’t remember the last time he ate with us.” Catching herself before she could become too lost in her thoughts, she cleared her throat, fixing a smile firmly back into place. “It’s all yours tonight, come on… we don’t bite. Would you like anything to drink?” Waving off the apology as Oliver wandered back into the room, his expression faltered when he saw her standing beside Milo’s chair. She knew he was thinking the same thing as her. Knew he was remembering the countless family dinners. The dad jokes, and laughter. The studying when their son wanted to learn something new and wouldn’t let anything as trivial as eating interrupt his progress. The arguments when he wouldn’t finish his vegetables. Once she had found a handful of carrots hidden behind the back of the radiator which he vehemently denied having anything to do with. There were still scratch marks on the table’s surface from when he had started learning how to use metal cutlery. Sometimes she missed the simplicity of his childhood so much that it hurt. She still couldn’t figure out where things had gone so wrong. Before she could open her mouth and reassure Metzli they were incredibly welcome, Oliver was speaking, echoing her previous sentiments.
“Nonsense, Metzli. Guests are always welcome in this house… it’s Summer all year long here, you know.” He added, laughing quietly as she rolled her eyes at him. “My wife’s just jealous she didn’t come up with that one first.” Taking a seat, he made himself comfortable, waiting for her to join him. Pulling out her own chair, she sat next to Oliver and absentmindedly patted his leg. It was an instinct, a gentle comfort that they so often afforded each other.
“Well now you know,” she stated, her voice firm, leaving no room for Metzli to argue. “When you don’t have anywhere to go, you come here, okay? This is where you go.”
Milo’s parents were so…dorky. They encompassed every embarrassing trait that could be found in the cringiest of parents. Regardless, Metzli found themselves laughing and not crying for the first time in hours. “That’s terrible, Mr. Summers. And I’m okay. Don’t need a drink.” It felt a little wrong to take their friend’s seat, but they took Allison’s offer, noticing how much she adored Milo by the way she looked at his chair. The food smelled good, the company was warm, and the atmosphere overall felt welcoming. It was strange to have parents be so kind. Tears fell once again, unyielding and burning their cheeks at Allison’s offer. No, it wasn’t an offer, it was a rule that was being gently enforced. “I’ve never had anywhere to go.”
Metzli picked up their fork and poked at the lasagna for a few moments to find some reprieve from their emotions. They even took a few bites, tasting nothing. “This is pretty good, Mrs. Summers.” A small lie, a necessary one. It was polite to compliment the cooking, it was polite to shift the focus and spotlight someone else. And the vampire was trying to be better, trying to be less selfish. But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t find comfort in Allison and Oliver. They’d never had parents, and even if they could never be Metzli’s parents, the couple seemed genuine in their offer. And that just made them cry even more. “Sorry. It’s been a little rough lately.”
Allison laughed, watching her husband feign offense. As always, she was filled with a familiar rush of affection for him. So many things in her life hadn’t gone the way she planned, but she had Oliver, her one true constant, and she was forever grateful for him. Shooting Metzli a smile as they took a seat in Milo’s chair, it felt so good to see it being used again. For a brief moment, the hole he had left in her little family seemed to get smaller. “It really is terrible, but he’s cute, so I let him get away with it.” Her smile faltering when she realised Metzli was beginning to cry, she softened her demeanour. Taking a moment to chew on a mouthful of food, giving them time to collect themself if they wanted to do so, she only looked back up when they began to speak. Her heart broke at the admission, and she found herself wishing more than anything that she could have met them when they were younger. Maybe, with the help of Oliver, they could have been a support system. And maybe she could have shown love, and affection without the recipient pushing back. “Well, you have somewhere to go now, Metzli. I mean it.” She said, her voice was quiet, but there was a determination behind it. She’d always believed in independence, and autonomy. In letting people have their own space. But she was protective by nature.
A warmth spreading outwards from her chest at the unexpected compliment, she caught Oliver’s eye and he grinned at her, clearly as endeared by Metzli as she was herself. “Thank you, Metzli… I do my best, you know… but we both work such long hours… even taking turns in the kitchen can be a chore sometimes.” Turning her attention back to her lasagne, only when Metzli mentioned things being rough did she feel a familiar sense of anxiety, the same anxiety that had struck her when she first answered the front door. A glance towards her husband showed her she wasn’t alone.
“Rough in what way?” Oliver’s voice was cautiously curious, like he was dreading the answer might involve Milo, and the unpredictable behaviour that had made both of their lives so difficult. “You can talk to us… we’re doctors, we know how to keep a secret. Anything you say can be confidential if you want it to be… but, of course, there’s no pressure.”
A hitched breath lodged itself in their chest and Metzli tried their best to not bend the fork in their fist. Allison meant every word and it wasn’t even a threat. She wasn’t forcing them down into a basement or chaining them up to teach them a lesson. Love wasn’t dangled in front of them, used to manipulate them and give them false hope that they could actually be loved. “I’m just realizing more and more how alone I really am. How when I’m scared, I have to just swallow it. When I cry, I have to force myself to sleep. When I feel lonely…I just have to be alone.” Their shoulders drooped, hands falling to their lap and clenching into fists as they fought back against defeat. The pressure had built up over the weeks, making their chest feel like an implosion, the debris coming out in overwhelming shards of words.
“Everyone has parents. Or something like a parent. Or have experienced a parental figure. And me? Fuck…” Metzli pulled at their hair, squeezing their eyes shut. “I don’t get to have that. I will never have that. You know what I got? I got a basement. I got scars. I got my life taken from me and I have to figure it out on my own and act like a mature adult ‘cause I’ve lived my life and shouldn’t be stunted in this way.” Their hands latched onto the knees, tightening painfully as they rambled and gasped out. “I thought I was in love with the first connection I made, and you know what? She’s just starting her life. Do you know how disturbing that is? And—and I keep—I keep roping people into my problems that have no business being roped in. They’re too young. I’m a fucking century—a fucking adult and should ask people my age, but I don’t have that. I’m too—too this.” Too soulless. Too petulant. Too selfish. Unable to feel, only able to think. They gestured to themselves and looked at the Summers couple, sobbing and pleading. “I’m too stunted and act like a child, so who? Who do I turn to? Who do I get to turn to when I’m a grown ass adult? The only parents I ever had locked me away for twenty-something years.”
And then there were thirty-six years of following every order Eloy gave. Then twenty years of hiding in caves to avoid Eloy. Then twenty-something years of laying low in the city, homeless and alone with the occasional odd job. And finally, when they thought they were going to be found again, they starved themselves and hid until they fell into a coma. Only being released in 2018 when they were lucky enough to have hikers stumble upon their resting place. No one knew about that, not even Bex. Not even Milo. Not even Murphy. Not even Macleod. “I don’t know how to do this!” Metzli covered their lips with their palm, realizing they had done it again. While Allison and Oliver were parents, they were not supernatural. “I really should go now.” They stood up. “I really should go.”
Allison felt a wave of sympathy. Everybody at some point in their life had felt the isolation Metzli was describing. It was an awful place to be, and sometimes not an easy place to climb out of. “Do you have friends, Metzli? People other than Milo?” She prompted, making sure her voice didn’t sound patronising, or dismissive. “I’m sure they would all tell you they can empathise. You’d be surprised just how many people feel like there isn’t anybody who can understand them.” As much as she respected mental health, it wasn’t her forte. And she chose her words carefully, opting for honesty, rather than a clinical approach. Maybe a therapist would see Metzli as a case file, something to break down, and heal piece by piece. But she wasn’t capable of that, and neither was Oliver. They both, however, had experience in comforting patients. In offering sick people, and their families a shoulder to cry on. “Nobody has to be alone. That’s something we tell ourselves because it’s easier to believe… if we believe that, then we don’t need to try, and if we don’t try then we’ll never make mistakes.”
“Mistakes can be painful.” Oliver chimed in. “They can make you want to protect yourself, every animal has the instinct to hide when things become difficult. In fact, that instinct has kept many species on this Earth, including us humans. But communication is important. You need to recognise the fact that you have power, and autonomy. If you feel alone, you can combat the feeling by reaching out. There are many ways to find common ground. Many ways build a bond… sometimes you don’t even need somebody to understand how you feel. You just need somebody to hear you.” He looked over at her while he spoke, and she smiled at him with an open, and unguarded affection. More than once they had disagreed on how best to help their son. It would be easy for them to push each other away, but they listened to each other. They made a conscious effort to validate each other’s feelings.
“Oh, Metzli…” She sighed, feeling tears sting at her eyes. She was used to maintaining a professional demeanor, but in the safety of her own home it was too easy to show her emotion. “I’m sorry you didn’t grow up with a support network. But you just said it yourself, you’re learning. And you need to be patient. Treat yourself with the respect, and the care you would treat others with if they were struggling with the same issues.” She could see Metzli had a good heart, they wouldn’t be so close with Milo if they didn’t have an abundance of patience, and understanding. They needed to project that inwards, to use their compassion on themself. “It’s incredible that you can observe the impact your experiences have had on your ability to function, but you’re blaming yourself for the outcome, and you aren’t responsible.”
“Everybody has fallen in love too quickly when the right person showed them attention.” Oliver added with a sheepish smile that indicated he had made more than one poor choice in his younger years. “To what degree depends on how a person was raised. You had a difficult childhood, so it’s natural for you to develop romantic attachments. It’s natural for you to be navigating your emotions like this… and developing in ways you weren’t able to when you were a child. But like my wife said, you’re aware of the issues you’re facing. You’re seeing yourself objectively and that… jeez, that’s the hardest part. Realising how far you have to go. Every journey is one step at a time. Whether it be physical recovery, or sobriety, or even making a trip to Walmart. Mental health is as real, and as complex as physical health. Would you blame yourself if somebody tripped you and you broke your leg? Of course not. You would heal your leg using the appropriate methods, and you would understand the fact that the person who tripped you is the one who caused you the injury. It’s really the same principle.”
Reaching out to take Oliver’s hand, Allison linked their fingers, the lasagna in front of her long forgotten. She, and her husband were in parent mode. That mixed with their medical knowledge was a force to be reckoned with. “Age means different things for different people. A sixteen year old can be more mature than a forty year old depending on circumstance. Everybody grows at a different pace. You’re young Metzli, even if you do feel a century old. You have time to figure these things out, and time to make more friends your age. You have an entire life to form connections. Progress will never be immediate, as much as we wish it could be.” Faltering as Metzli moved to cover their mouth with their hand, they looked undeniably torn. They were obviously fighting a powerful inner battle. She wished she could do more to help them, but she had learned a long time ago that sometimes all you could do was be there for a person. Make yourself physically, and emotionally available. “Please don’t go, honey.” She tried. “I know it might be difficult for you to believe, but we mean it when we say you’re welcome here. We want to help you.”
“If I broke a bone, it’s because I did something wrong and I needed to be taught a lesson. If I spent days down there, it was because I failed. I have friends. Even lovers. But the damage I have is too much. The kind of help I need doesn’t require friends.” Metzli wiped their eyes with the back of their hand, rubbing and walking around the table to head towards the door. Allison and Oliver couldn’t be their parents. They didn’t give them life, and they most certainly couldn’t understand all aspects of Metzli’s trauma. Maybe helping with things they did understand and giving support could be enough, but by all calculations, to the vampire, it was a selfish endeavor. “Age does matter though. Different lives have been experienced, different things have been seen. I get that now. It’s just…” they paced a little, feeling the prickling sensation tearing at them just below the surface of skin. “I’m lost. I’m scared. A few years ago…that was when I got the first real chance to be a person. I didn’t have to be locked away.” Memories of those frightened hikers flashed in their mind, and it was really thanks to them that Metzli began life when they did. They were so ruthless then, ripping them apart and inhaling their lives without a second thought, moving on to nearby campers to sate their needs. “But I’m lost.” Still broken and none of the pieces they gathered fit perfectly together anymore, but they had another chance. A promise was made that day that they wouldn’t waste this chance, and already with everything they’d done, even the huge mistakes, it hadn’t gone wasted.
“I just want people I can turn to that I’m allowed to break down to or rely on for guidance. My parents are dead, and they died hating me, they died thinking I was still locked in the basement after I talked back. Maybe I don’t deserve that kind of relationship in my life, but I think I need it.” Metzli looked down at their feet and everything became a blur. No parent had ever loved them. They could take care of themselves, be an adult and do adult things, but there was a childhood inside them that’d gone untouched for over a century, that had never been healed. While they were trying to be better and be everything their parents and Eloy were not, they found themselves wanting what they were giving out. Vulnerability encompassed their heart and if they weren’t careful, they would lose themselves in the depths of that dark sea. They were already sinking so fast. “If I hug you, will you punish me?” A ridiculous question. Not even because Allison wouldn’t hurt them, but because she physically couldn’t. But the fear of parental figures was long ingrained and they wouldn’t have the strength or bravery to retaliate. She and Oliver had all the power. The trauma was simply that crippling.
“Please help me.”
Oliver made a faint sound of disagreement, and Allison turned her attention back to him. “That’s what you’ve been taught, but you understand it isn’t true.” He said quietly. “If Milo was tripped and he broke his leg, would you tell him he was to blame? Would you say he had done something wrong and needed to be taught a lesson?” Sometimes it was more effective to use hypotheticals that took place outside of an individual person. Metzli would probably offer Milo more consideration than they would ever offer themself, and that wasn’t an easy thing to justify. She loved Oliver for recognising that. “The fact that you’re here admitting you need help means the damage you have isn’t too much.”
She nodded her agreement, holding Metzli’s gaze so that they would know she was telling the truth. “If you don’t need friends then what do you need?” She asked. “If you need time to talk then maybe you can join us for dinner more often?” Watching helplessly as Metzli made their way to the door, she forced herself to stay seated, knowing sudden movements would startle them while they were in their current state. “Age matters, of course it does. But it’s not a bad thing that you’re finding connections outside of your age group. It speaks to what you’ve been through, and you’ve come to understand the boundaries of those situations. You have a right to feel lost. It isn’t your fault. The world can be a scary place.” She thought of every time she had held Milo, unconscious, sleeping, or shivering uncontrollably. He would never tell her the things he saw, or the things he did in order to afford his habits. But it was something that kept her up at night. He was her baby, and she had failed to protect him from life’s horrors. It seemed Metzli had suffered horrors too.
“Lost means you’re on a journey, Metzli. It’s not an easy one, and sometimes people face obstacles that others might never encounter, but all we can do is try our best. The fact that you’re asking these questions proves to me that you’re a good person. Someone who really cares, who wants to grow beyond the pain they endured. If you need somewhere to break down, and be honest, you come here, okay? We pursued careers in medicine because we wanted to help people, so let us be there for you.”
Smiling in gentle encouragement, she nodded, letting Metzli see she agreed with her husband. “You don’t need toxicity, you’re used to it. The difference is sometimes difficult to recognise, but it’s there. I can’t say we have much experience in guidance…” She trailed off, her heart aching as she considered how badly she had failed Milo in that area. Every group she attended, every meeting she went to, someone tried to insist she wasn’t to blame. Even the science behind addiction showed it was an illness, and not always a product of upbringing. But letting go of her doubt had proven a near impossible task. “We’ll be here if you ever need people to turn to, you can trust us.” Caught off guard by the question, she hurried to collect herself before her surprise could show. The idea of her punishing anybody for hugging her was so laughable, so outright ridiculous, that it felt like a poorly timed joke. But it wasn’t, and she knew she needed to assure Metzli they were safe. In the context of Metzli’s childhood, the question was not only sensible, but necessary. “We don’t opt for punishment in this house, we communicate.” She carefully pushed away from the table, standing so that she could walk to Metzli and wrap her arms around them. Holding them close, she made sure they would be able to pull away if they wanted to. “We will, Metzli… of course we will.”
Metzli tensed when Allison stood, almost sure she’d raise a hand to slap them across the face. She wasn’t Allison anymore, she was Lupe. Always promising her love, only to dangle it out of reach from the top of the basement stairs. Those steps were never-ending then. Cascading down to their hell with no resolution in reach, seeming to only grow farther away until Allison reached out and gifted them the one thing they only saw as an unwinnable prize. She and Oliver gave them the love they begged for for nights on end without a second thought. “Thank you.” They sobbed, wrapping their arms tighter around Allison. They were a little too tall, but their size didn’t feel bigger than a child. Even growing smaller as they trembled.
“Can I stay here for a few hours? Just until…until I calm down fully.” Their voice hiccuped from the sobs. Metzli hated themselves for being so vulnerable, but they had finally found their voice in the language of action. In lending themselves to someone else’s mercy. Taking a reluctant step back, they wiped their eyes a little roughly. Bleary eyes looked down at their hands, still shaking. Normally it’d be easy to put themselves back together. The pieces of their heart had made multiple masterpieces. But too many shards had been lost and the image they created wasn’t recognizable. Borrowing would have to do until they could stand on their own again. “I can go lay down somewhere. And then I’ll leave and this won’t happen again.” They paused, stammering until they lined up the right words. “This breakdown, I mean. I think me freaking out was a long time coming but, uh…” They cleared their throat and wiped what tears that fell. “If you really mean it, I think it’ll help if I could talk to you guys. You don’t have to. But I want to be better, and I promise I’ll listen to your suggestions. I promise.”
Allison could feel the tension in Metzli’s shoulders, and made a conscious effort to prepare herself. If Metzli pulled away, she knew any shock, or hurt in her expression would be negative reinforcement. Would teach Metzli not to ask for physical affection again. But Metzli didn’t pull away. In fact, they wrapped their arms around her, crying openly as they rested their head against her shoulder. She was taken aback, having just witnessed how hard they worked to contain their emotions. But she was also flattered. Clearly something she, or her husband, had said resonated with their pain. Patiently waiting for the sobs wracking their body to subside, she allowed Metzli to withdraw from the embrace before taking a careful step backwards. “Here, let me get you a tissue.” Hurrying into the kitchen, she pulled a box of tissues towards her, making her way back into the dining room so that she could give them to Metzli. “You’re more than welcome to stay here… for however long you need to, okay? Does Milo know you’re here?” Maybe she could encourage Milo to join his roommate. It would be nice for Metzli to have some company closer to their own age, but she also selfishly hoped an upset friend might be enough to bring her son home.
“Only lay down if you want to, Metzli… we’re no strangers to emotional outbursts. Not in this family.” Oliver chimed in from where he was sitting. She nodded her agreement. There had been so many arguments, and so many breakdowns over the course of Milo’s teenage years. It pained her to think things didn’t get better because of progress, but simply because he decided to remove himself from the environment.
“You can take Milo’s room if you’d like to rest. But we do have cheesecake for dessert.” She added, hoping to tempt Metzli into eating something, even if it was full of sugar, and fat. They had barely touched their lasagna. “Oh, Metzli… we really mean it.” She smiled, pouring all of her warmth and affection into the gesture. It was touching to think somebody considered her and Oliver a source of guidance. And it was strange being offered the parental roles their son had actively denied them. “Take things one day at a time now, don’t keep everything inside until it breaks you. The next time you’re struggling, please come to us. We all want to be better, honey. And we all need people to talk to. Nobody can make it in this world alone.”
Metzli nodded weakly, feeling their eyes sting and their lids grow heavy with the leftover weight of their sorrow. Their healing was only beginning, and it would be a long path of hard work to feeling okay. “Cheesecake sounds good, but I think…I think I’ll just lay down.” They looked down with bloodshot eyes, lips quivering. Appearing so vulnerable left a bad taste in their mouth, but neither Oliver or Allison berated Metzli or raised a hand to halt their sounds. Lack of anything was usually so negative, but in that instance, it was everything they needed. Taking a step forward, they tentatively hugged Allison one more time, finding her scent warm and inviting. They committed it to memory and pulled away to look one more time at the couple. “Thank you. I know where Milo’s room is. He showed me the last time we were here. And he doesn’t know I’m here. I didn’t want him to know. I’m trying to not burden others. Part of trying to not be selfish, you know?” The vampire shrugged, taking their leave and waving shakily at Oliver as they passed to get to the room.
Reaching the door, Metzli rushed to the bed and was comforted by the small hint of Milo’s scent that wrapped around them with the comforter. Maybe they weren’t born into the family, but they had felt far more welcomed than their parents ever made them feel. They thought maybe Allison and Oliver really could be the parental figures they missed out on. Telling them everything wasn’t an option, not with them being human, but what they could provide was enough. Having nothing made one appreciate even a crumb. All they could do was collect them all until they had a full meal. So Metzli curled up like a fist, but this time, love was at the door, fighting for them until they rose again.
finding out that your great uncle passed away through social media because your father has the emotional range of a chicken nugget is just top tier.
#✴ rambles#death tw #this is his uncle ... and he wasn't on speaking terms with them because of something i know is stupid #like i get cutting out toxic family members but these people were the sweetest ever #even after my parents' separation they still spoke to my mum and invited her over #ew i feel crummy #i'll just drown myself in work like usual
Okay hot take: I think that maybe a lot of the reason why people are so unwilling to admit that spanking and other forms of corporal punishment are child abuse is that we as a society make child abusers out to be these hideous awful monsters. We say that abuse of a child is this unforgivable act that should be punished with death, and while there certainly are abusers who are evil and abuse is serious, this way of thinking makes it harder to recognize the abuse that happens around us. After all, if a parent who uses corporal punishment regularly is told that it's child abuse, they obviously aren't going to listen because who wants to think of themselves as an unforgivable monster? And children of parents who used corporal punishment but were otherwise very good would find it hard to accept that they were abused because after all, they know their parents, and they aren't monsters.
#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw corporal punishment #I love my parents deeply and they do a lot more for me than most parents probably would #but sometimes I wish I could just get an apology
#just rambling here #i came out as trans to two of my teachers at school and theyve both been supportive :) #i have approx 7 teachers left to tell #two of whom im terrified of telling bc theyre more openly transphobic and not as as supportive buuut #i got the teachers on board so dar to not tell my parents either but tonotherwise refer to me with they/them pronouns #so a victory :) #just waitong yo see the reactions of my classmata eho somehow stulp have no clue #anyway -i never thought id even get this far #far enouhj to come out far enough to see anybof this #far enouhj to have teachers eho overall support me and have no issue with me being whatever #tw suicidal #less than half a year ago i barely thought id make it to even this day #not that its not come without its challenges #ive been uncontrollably shaking/trembling almost constantly for the last few days and have even been having panic attacks at school #21-01-22#lgbtq+#trans#they them#coming out
i don’t know if dreams actually have some deeper meaning but i at least once a month i have a dream that includes seeing robert and saying you’re supposed to be dead and he has some elaborate story for how he’s alive also a lot of times it ends with him killing me and even ones that don’t include the him being dead thing also ends with him killing me so that’s an interesting subconscious problem
#owen.txt #parent death tw #now that i think about it #my dreams do have a deeper meaning and that meaning is i was scared of him and he was awful #abuse tw
my parents’ anniversary is tomorrow and it’s always an ordeal bc tl;dr i still live with them and not a day goes by where they’re not antagonistic towards each other so im assuming they’re still married merely out of obligation and their dynamic is one of many reasons why irl relationships scare me so much bc i don’t want to turn out like them
anyway my mom usually insists on me coming along on their anniversary dinners even tho during 7 out of 10 family dinners i’ve “ruined” things and started fights among us usually due to my anxiety so im hoping by just fucking dissociating and pretending that one of my f/o’s is with me at the dinner i will get thru it fejbf
#just ler things #negativity tw #parental issues tw??? is that the right tag #dgfjkrgjb anyway. yeah. parents am i right? *sitcom laugh track*