A Bit Lost, Actually

I want to come out as non binary, or genderfluid - I don't even know - but I can't even find a way to say it to my fucking therapist. I don't even know what pronouns I like anymore. All we do in those meetings is sit there while I talk about my interests. I think she feels like I'm avoiding saying something. But that's just it. I don't know what's going on. 

I'm pissed. I'm depressed. I'm angry. I'm broken. Sometimes I don't give a shit, sometimes I'm overloaded with them. It's a vicious cycle of "I'm not half bad, for a kid" and "If I wasn't afraid, I'd fucking do it already." My mom has a boyfriend, and I don't know why I hate him. We haven't even spoken. My dad's a sexist, racist, asshole, but I can't say a word. I want attention. I don't want anyone to notice me. I want someone to care. I'm afraid what might happen if they do. I want to self harm, just to see if it helps. I'm terrified of the pain. 

I can't tell anyone anything. It's not that I don't want to. I'm fucking trying. But at this point, I need to invent some words. I hate talking about it, though. I despise it. I'm nearly the best off, in my little group of friends, and how dare I think this way? I'm fucking lucky. We've got barely enough money, but we have it. I'm not beaten. I don't do drugs. My grades are great, despite slacking off. But I'm fucking bragging now. Shut up. Stop that. Your grades aren't great, you got a damn C. That's the thing, really. No one has congratulated me on the 5 A's. It's normal. Expected. It's not special, at this point. A C, though, is rare. So the parents must get into a huddle. Whisper. New plan, let's exaggerate her flaws. Punish her for them. That'll fix it. 

I've got scabs all across my face, my arms, and my chest. Not cuts. Literally just the result of scratching bumps. And then picking the scabs. Again and again and again. That's gotta be a problem. In fact, I've been told it is. By having the internet taken away for it. 4 times. "Because the internet is doing this to you"

I'm a horrible person and I need to shut up. I don't have the right to complain. Who cares if my parents got divorced? I don't. I really, honestly don't. It wasn't like one stayed in the house if the other was there, anyway. No different, just annoying moving back and forth every week. That's not something you get this emotionally fucked up over. So what the hell am I doing wrong, here? Cousin died. Don't give a shit, didn't know them. Everyone is was in tears. That sounds harsh, but what else am I meant to say? Lie? I did not care. It was a boring day, stuck at a funeral in uncomfortable clothes, and I had no clue who they were. Christmas comes? Birthday? Don't care. I literally forgot my own birthday this year. Little animation... of a dinosaur. No one came to his birthday party. I sobbed at that. Broke a pencil, cried at that. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I wish... I wish sorrys helped. I wish "You're okay" felt better. I wish compliments didn't feel like insults. I wish someone would find the magic words to fix it. Everyone tells you that they're there for you. You know that. Besides the times you second guess why anyone would like you. They tell you that you can come to them. That they care. Well that's not enough, I guess. Because that's not going to explain this. What I really want is for someone to finally clear it all up. "Surprise, you've got amnesia and don't remember being fucking beaten as a child", truthfully used, would make me feel better than "I love you". Why???

I just. I can't do anything but rant. Which is a burden. I'm a burden. Seriously, I've got about a year to decide what to do with my entire life, and I can't even say blinking and breathing are skills. Not exaggerating that. Actual medical faults, there. All I want is someone to tell me I'm fucked up, in a way I can at least know WHY the hell I'm sobbing at pencil lead. Finally diagnose me with a mental disorder or something, and not tell me it's hormones. I seriously fucking doubt ALL the mindless shit I've got going on is fucking hormones. If it is, fuck this whole living thing. Remove all the sex organs, please.

Actually I'd pay good money if I could go without any of that shit, but nevermind that now.

I'm tired. I... I don't know. This isn't gonna make me feel much better. It feels like putting an ad in the paper like "Psychological Help Wanted". It's been a while, though, since I've been brought to tears from someone trying to care. And maybe, just maybe, the right combination of words could keep me sane a bit longer. At least feeling it. 

I'm gonna just be outward with it now. Because if you've honestly bothered reading all my shit, you probably care a little. Please... Please shoot me something nice to look at. Just some nice words. Because It's getting hard to see through the tears I'm holding back right now. Because I don't want to be told that I'm loved, I want that to be shown. 

Grounded. Indefinitely, sorta. Can't get online for... forever. Technically. 

There are plenty of Magic Anon lists going around, but I decided to make my own anyway. None of these are mine, I just put them together. Fun, cool, and non-sexual M!As for everyone.

Hate: For 6 hours, your muse will do nothing but spout hateful comments to everyone. Whether they liked them originally or not.

Doctor Who: Muse has just come across a vacant blue box that’s bigger on the inside and look! There’s directions on how to work this “TARDIS.” They’ve decided to give it a try, but they have to take someone (anyone who replies to the open). The TARDIS stays in their possession for three days.

Trading Places: Mun and Muse(s) swap roles for (Anon decides)

A Change of Heart: Muse turns into an evil version of him/herself for (Anon decides) (If Muse is already evil, Muse turns nice.)

Not Yourself: Muse has the personality of a character of anon's choice.

Double Trouble: Muse has an exact copy of themself to deal with. Only the copy secretly wants to kill them.

Babysit: Muse has to take care of a child. Lasts a day.

That’s Not Punny: Muse feels inclined to make a pun about almost everything.

Dory: Muse has short term memory loss for (anon specifies time)

Sufferin' Succotash!: Muse develops a lisp.

Freeze!: Muse freezes up for a few seconds whenever a certain word is said. Anon may choose the word.

Happy Days: Muse is forced to keep a permanent smile.

Shut the Blinds: Muse becomes allergic to the sun.

Spirit Animal: Muse is turned into an animal (Anon decides what) for 12 hours.

Fear in Your Eyes: Muse is deathly afraid of _______ (Anon specifies fear). Lasts 12 hours.

Say You'll Haunt Me: Muse is a ghost, whom can only be seen if they want to be. Lasts 24 hours.

Pure: Sex? What’s that? Muse suddenly has the mentality of a three year old, and can’t understand anything ‘adult’. Anon decides the duration.

Silence: Muse cannot speak, lasts for a day

Noise: Muse will say everything they think, lasts for a day

Aimless: Muse is drunk/disoriented/easily confused for - Anon decides

Aglet: The muse will spew little-known facts for ___.

Wings:You can fly! Muse sprouts wings for up to a maximum of two weeks. Anon gets to choose how big they are( chicken wings anyone?)

Secret: Muse cannot speak the truth for 24 hours, thinking they'll let slip an important secret! Hide the documents!

Memory: Dude where's my....who am I again? Muse loses their memory and can't remember anything at all. Anon decides the duration.

Bed: Muse now has narcolepsy and falls asleep at random for three days.

Paranoia: Muse becomes extremely paranoid about (Anon specifies what and for how long)

Hallucination: Muse sees things for (Anon decides)

I Crush Everything: Muse has super strength, but can’t control it and ends up breaking things for (anon decides).

Dare You to Move: Muse lies on the ground and has no desire to get up and do anything for 24 hours, or until somebody convinces them to get up.

This Means War: For the next _______, your muse is easily offended by anything someone says to them.

Switch: Muse has to switch bodies with (Anon decides, but muns have to agree) for (Anon decides how long)

[ . . . ]

Warning. Warning. Mental meltdown. Mental processes at 15%. 

3 - Meh...

✮ - sleeping habits

It's a bit difficult finding safe places to go unconscious around Aperture, especially with the risk of being abducted by a psychotic AI, so she tends to stick around the office areas. It seems no one wants to touch those, to her knowledge. And they seem very unlikely to change, opposed to test chambers. A lot of times she curls up as small as she can - under a desk or something if one's available - and just tries to keep her wings in a position that won't leave her sore when she wakes up.

✄ - nervous habits

High stress situations tend to make her stutter a bit. She might pull at her hair, but that could quickly turn into actually ripping it out if it goes on long enough. Since the movement is based on the need to do something with her hands, it might take another turn towards head scratching or finger tapping. 

✎ - taste in music/literature