Justateenworkinglifeout - Just A Teen Trying To Figure Out Life

My cat likes to run into rooms he isn't allowed in the second the door cracks open. But most of the time it's not because he has specific goals in mind of what to do in there. He just wants to be in there purely because he isn't supposed to be in there. As long as there isn't too much immediate danger, we've learned that if we just ignore him for a bit, he'll get bored from the lack of attention and come out on his own.

it’s so funny when people are like “being nice is free” and “kindness costs nothing” and then they are the worst fucking person you have ever met

Sometimes I just remember the one moment when I felt really cared for after a year of abuse from my 'best friend' and months of strained relationship with my parents after I had pushed them out during that year, then left them with the broken aftermath of their very traumatized, very expensive, daughter.

I was in the ER. Not a rare occurrence at the time. It was before one of my inpatient stays that year, but I'm not sure if it was the second or the third, they all blur together. I usually would have to spend a night there and wait for a bed to open up before being admitted, and that was how it went this time. In the middle of the night, I woke up with a nosebleed from the dry hospital air. I didn't really know what to do. Any normal person would get up and go to the nurse's station and get some tissues or something, but being a mentally ill child who was just yelled at by her mother the day before for saying she needed help because the hospital bills were already stacking up and going to the ER cost a lot of money, not to mention the inpatient stay, I didn't want to inconvenience the nurses (it's literally their job) so I just laid back with the back of my hand over my nose while I waited for it to stop. Swallowed a lot of my own blood, but I was already in such a horrible mental state, broken to my core to the point I wanted to leave mortality, that I could care less as long as nobody else was affected.

The bleeding stopped and I did the best I could to get the dried stuff off my hands by licking my finger and rubbing it off, but it was dark, so I couldn't really see if it worked. I went back to sleep and then woke up in the morning and did my usual ER routine of sitting in the dark because I didn't want to have to go out to ask the nurses to turn on the light (lightswitches weren't in the rooms for safety reasons or something idk). When one of the nurses came in to bring me breakfast, she turned on the light, but I didn't notice there was still dried blood on my hands and just ate my breakfast in silence because I never asked for them to turn on the TV. I always waited for them to suggest it since I didn't want to inconvenience them (again, it's literally their job to do that but I still felt bad asking). When she came back to take my tray, she noticed the blood and asked about it. It was only then I realized that blood on the hand of a mentally ill child in the ER because she could hurt herself is easily interpreted as literally anything other than a nosebleed. I panicked and started explaining myself, and to my relief she believed me and I wasn't put on a 1 to 1 (I had to experience that at some point later and it sucks). She left to go get me a wipe to clean it off.

She came back and I was sitting on the floor next to the weird little plastic round side table thing. I was expecting her to just throw it at me or something and leave me to clean myself up, but to my surprise she sat down in front of me and (after asking permission to touch me) started wiping my hands for me. She was just so careful and sweet about it. She called me 'honey' and it left me with a warmth in my chest that I hadn't felt in over a year.

It's kind of odd but I just look back at that memory with a weird sort of fondness. To her it was probably just a normal day on the job, but for me that moment meant so much. She was also probably just using it as an opportunity to look me over and make sure I was telling the truth about the nosebleed, but still. I was just this scared kid who felt like she was so worthless that she couldn't even ask a nurse to turn the TV on for fear that she would be loathed, and this woman went out of her way to lightly scrub the blood out of my nails.

Nowadays I'm doing better. My mental state has improved and I've been working on moving past that all, but I think that some time this past week was the 2 year anniversary of that day, and it just goes to show how far I've come. From being surprised and comforted by a psych nurse's gentle touch on my hands (the first human touch I had felt in months), to casual hugs with my friends and a year and 7 months out of the hospital as of yesterday.

I love stuff like this. Rebellion and activism from the silliest of people. It's really fun how it riles up the conservatives. The people they bully through their screens hold power and it scares them. Kinda reminds me of that one post with the sprigatito plush that says something along the lines of 'we did it sprigatito! We hacked into the federal no fly list' and it shows the plush in front of a computer showing the no fly list

What I would give for a good cuddle with the homies right now. Sadly, I have not the time nor the social ability to figure out a cuddle session of some sort. Always feels too weird to just be like; yo, wanna have some platonic cuddle time? Anyways, I am definitely very touch starved atm.

Introduction Post

Hi! I'm Iris, I go by she/her pronouns.

I pretty much just created this blog for myself. It's a sort of 'scream out into the void and see if the void screams back' type thing.

From what I've been posting as of now, you can mostly just expect to see text posts about my perspective on life and my experiences, along with the occasional little piece of art or a fandom/meme reblog.

This is all just a sort of creative outlet, so I might be mentioning some heavy stuff about my life (gripes about the Healthcare system, my experiences with emotional abuse, general thoughts about the state of the world, that sort of stuff) so if you don't want to read that, this probably isn't the page for you.

My general interests include the Riordanverse and musical theatre, and that's basically it.

I feel the need to add something else to wrap up the post but I can't think of anything so I'm writing this filler so I can come back and edit when I think of a good ending (This might just be here forever)

Me: *looking at a porcelain hand in the home decor aisle of a store* if I lost my hands in some kind of tragic accident, I’d decorate my entire home with hand-shaped things. Then I’d invite guests over for like, dinner parties and such and sit there expectantly just basking in their discomfort.

My boyfriend: Do you hear what you say when you talk? Do you know what you just said to me?

puppy play but halfway thru i suddenly start barking and run off into the woods faster than u can keep up with. u quickly lose sight of me. u call out my name and whistle to no response. u walk slowly in hopes of hearing where i may be but its dead quite. my barking stopped some distance away. it was getting dark when i ran off but now its pitch black. against ur better judgment u leave in hopes that ill come back of my own accord. 3 days later uve given up hope. ur printing out lost dog posters when u hear scratching at the door. u open it to see me. u lunge forward and hug me so excited i came back. immediately upon being back u feel like somethings off. i look and sound just like me. but i walk around the house like i hadnt been there. i refuse to eat anything even treats. and when u look at me u get the sinking feeling these are different eyes staring back at u. almost as if theyre seeing more than usual. u initially write it off as just being due to stress of being in the woods alone for a few days. but one day in the middle of the night u hear a scratching. u think its me but im asleep on the floor by ur bed. u walk out into the hallway. u follow the noise to the front door. under the sound of scratching is whining. my whining. u swing open the door to a barrage of licks and headbutts. the joy u get from seeing me immediately sinks into a gutteral fear as u realize the dog that came back. the dog uve spent a week sleeping next to. was not me. but some kind of imitation. i start snarling. then whimpering. u dont need to turn around to know what was standing behind u. u pick me up and run as fast as u can. stomping footsteps way too close behind u. and then. nothing. u turn around just in time to see the thing that was once imitating ur dog lurch into the woods. it lets out one final bark in my voice. then disappears into the trees. and then we like. have sex or something