TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE DEPRESSION, MEMORY LOSS DUE TO TRAUMA, PHYSICAL ABUSE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, PANIC ATTACKS, AND THREATS TO KICK SOMEONE OUT

IF YOU CANNOT READ THIS, IT IS OK I WILL STILL LOVE YOU

MAKE SURE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Magnus,

I'm not doing good. I keep remembering things about my past that I've forgotten and wish I never uncovered them. A never-ending cycle of being re-traumatized over and over again.

Then some parts make no sense at all. Like, between the beautifully interwoven webs of my psyche lay muddled mist created by trauma, making it impossible to see clearly.

Every now and then, the wind blows, clearing one part of the web, yet fogging another.

I still don't remember why I self-harmed. I don't remember stopping. One day I wasn't; the next, I was, then I wasn't again.

I don't remember Adrian hurting me, but I know he did. There are old pictures of bruises on my face, poorly covered in makeup. I don't know what I did to deserve that.

I don't even remember him dying. I just know I walked into a room, then came out. I know I was the one who found him. I don't remember what happened in the room, how long I was there, or what I felt. I simply remember leaving feeling empty.

It goes deeper than that too. I have scars along my back from before I met Adrian. Who did that to me?

I know my dad hit, but only enough to bruise. Never enough to bleed or scar. What the fuck happened that made the abuse of a bruise stay with me, but the blood leave? What fucking happened? Do I even want to know?

I'm not even surprised when the water clears because, of course, that happened to me. It's what always fucking happens.

I don't think I want to clear the water anymore. I used to, back when it first started. It was euphoric for a bit. But now I don't want to. However, I need to. Otherwise, I continue to suffer. I was normal before, then I fucked it all up.

"It's healing," they say. "To get better you need to get worse." I DON'T WANT TO GET FUCKING WORSE!

I just want to stop, but this is a shitty fucking place to stop. So, I have to keep on fucking going. It's just going to hurt over and over again, and it will take years for me to get remotely better.

Why do I have to suffer to get somewhere good--no, not even good--to get somewhere decent? Haven't I dealt with enough already?

It's gotten to the point where I wonder what would happen if I just... ended it all.

I won't. I don't want to cause anyone that pain. I've been through that firsthand, and it fucking scars you.

But still. What if?

I'm sorry. My weird-ass metaphors for my memory don't make any sense and are not--in any way--eloquent. So take Demons of Darkness by Olivia B.

She stood on the bridge
In silence and fear,
For the demons of darkness
Had driven her here.

They cut her heart
Right out of her chest,
Making her believe
That the demons knew best.

They were always there,
Sometimes just out of sight,
Waiting in the background
Till the time was right.

These demons were destructive,
Knocking down the life she knew,
Hating everything about her;
She hated herself, too.

These demons can't be seen,
But they're far from fairy tales.
They live inside your mind;
Their evilness prevails.

So on the bridge she stood,
About to end the fight.
Then she stopped and thought
I'll fight them one more night.

Long story short, I am fucking traumatized and depressed. I might start looking for a therapist.

Love you, bitch

Alex.

-

Jaz hated her family. There were multiple times when she simply asked herself:

    What if I just ran away?

    But that was impractical. She had no money and no basic life skills. Jaz was practically worthless in every category except writing. Even then, she was still iffy.

    Sometimes she drew out a plan to run away within two months.

    This was one of those times.

    Bash, seemingly unable to shut the fuck up, was now speaking about gay people. Bash is a cishet man.

    Jesus, kill Jaz now.

    Then she watched as her parents agreed with him.

    "It isn't natural." "Think of the children." "It's against the Lord." "It's a threat to heterosexuality."

    Jaz didn't say anything. Instead, she grabbed her phone and pulled out everyone's favorite: the Notes app.

    She created a new note, locked it, then began to write.

I am happy, I said.
I am fine, I said.
Agree to disagree, I said.
I lied.

For you rip me apart
Without noticing my heart
bloody with a start.
For, I lied.

You say I am a sin.
Thank God I am not with them,
For they are everything wrong
With modern women and men.
So, I lied.

She says there are many different factors.
You say it doesn't fucking matter.
But I'm a damn good actor
and I want to fucking survive
so, I lied.

You say you'd kick me out,
But I don't want to die
I want to live.
Mom, can you please let me live?
I thought you loved me, mom.
I thought you cherished me, mom.
Please, God, mom, I'll do anything.

I don't want to say that,
So, I lied.

    Jaz turned off her phone and went over to the bland eggs that had somehow turned grey.

    She looked at her parents, love and resentment dancing in her core. They gave her a look that said We'll eat at Mcdonald's.

    Jaz could appreciate that.

-

Annabeth loved her dad. Annabeth hated her dad.

    Annabeth didn't know what was okay to feel toward her dad.

    He wasn't home often; his job required as much. So, Annabeth was raised by her stepmother. She loved her stepmother.

    Mrs. Chase was working today.

    Annabeth had set down her homework--which she should have done over the week but didn't. It was a lot of readings for her history class, notes that needed to be turned in for physics, everything for geometry...

    She needed to work on her time management.

    Still, she could get all 40 pages of homework done today. She just needed to focus.

    But her dad was home.

    "What are you doing," he asked.

    "Homework," she answered, quickly running through the math in her head.

    "Why didn't you do it during the week?"

    "Didn't have time," she lied, filling a question in.

    He left her alone after that, and she could finish her geometry homework within 30 minutes.

    Then came the challenging bit: readings.

    Annabeth was intelligent. There was no denying that basic fact of life. However, she can't fucking read. This, surprisingly, makes readings hard!

    Thankfully, her dad was home.

    "Dad," she called. "Can you read this for me?"

    He looked up at her from the living room. "What?"

    "Can you read this for me?"

    He slowly blinked. "No."

    "What? Why?"

    He stopped looking at her and began reading his book, almost taunting her. "How old are you, Annabeth?"

    "What does that have to do with--"

    "You are old enough," Frederick interrupted, "to know how to read. Are you not?"

    "I have a--"

    "Don't do that, you're just stupid."

    Annabeth didn't say anything. It was true. She had a learning disability. There was no denying it.

    Yes, she was brilliant but fucking pathetic. She was grown, about to graduate high school and go to college.

    Yet, she asked for help reading children's books.

    Annabeth closed her textbook and went up to her room.

    She was pathetic--stop. No. She slammed her head into a pillow. She was spiraling.

    Pride was a fucking shitty thing, wasn't it? One tiny little blow to the ego, and Annabeth was a mess. Fucking hell, what was wrong with her? Why does she always have to be perfect? She isn't fucking perfect and will never be anywhere near perfect. Stop pretending. That's for little kids. Annabeth is not a little kid anymore unless you count her reading level. It's embarrassing; stop being embarrassing. To be embarrassing is to be pathetic, and to be pathetic is to be worthless.

    Guess what? She was worthless, like the geometry she had just completed. She can't even focus correctly because why is her breathing so loud? Breathe like a normal fucking person. Is that so hard? God fucking damn it, why can't she do things like normal people? Why is she freezing but sweating? She's so fucking weird.

    She can't see anymore. She can't feel, can't smell. Annabeth could only breathe. Each inhale squeezing and clawing at her lungs. Each exhale assaulted her eardrums. It was so fucking loud. Why can't she see? Why was it so loud? What was wrong with her? Fuck, what was wrong with Annabeth? Why was she like this? What was wrong with her?

    Then she couldn't hear, and the world was too bright. It was blinding, and her chest hurt. And why was her face wet? Oh, she was crying. She can't feel anything, so why does it matter?

    It doesn't fucking matter. Annabeth doesn't matter. Why was she shivering? It's fucking hot.

    Her chest hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt too much. Was she dying?

    Annabeth couldn't breathe. Fuck she couldn't breathe. Let her breathe; she wanted to breathe. Please let her breathe.

    It hurt so much, and it was dark and freezing again, but she could feel something beneath her fingertips.

    Holy shit, she could feel something. She clung to it. It was soft and fuzzy, and now she could breathe again.

    And then she was okay.

    Holy shit, she was not okay.

hiii my violation beans

how are you?

uhm

so like

i was in an angsty mood today 🤗

and before you ask if i'm ok

bestie, i wrote this chapter i am sure you can answer that yourself

i was like, i wanna write another alex letter when was the last time i did that

and then i checked and it was 5 days ago

anyway i wrote alex's letter thing when i was bored at lunch today, and was vibing to Summer Child

i really wanted to do what i do, where i'm serious and then turn my mental health issues into a joke

i wrote Jaz's poem in 15 minutes. you can tell. it's not good, at least to me

then i wrote annabeth's section in about an hour, mainly because i was doing research and things

you know what i regret with this fic? shel.

not like, creating her. i love shel, i just want more comments

i don't like that when i started shel, i didn't understand that characters need ✨flaws✨

and now shel doesn't have those

literally every other character except shel has flaws

and i was like omg i can make shel be really blunt to alex, and it wasn't what alex needed and it causes a rift in their relationship

but nooooo

because my dumbass made shel flawless and always know what everyone else needed at every given moment

which is total bs

so i do want to apologize for my inability to understand how characters work

anyway

i feel like my mental health hasn't really been the best, and i'm sure you can tell.

i haven't been updating as often and ut isn't as good because i'm not connecting with the fluff. however, my angst is fucking thriving

if you listen to Numb Little Bug and get to the line "like you're not really happy but you don't wanna die"

that's me!

will i take time off

probably not

but whatever happens

um

oh i wrote a 500 word character sheet for my creative writing class today which was fun

other than that i don't have much to say, my life's been pretty uneventful.

so, love y'all!