I feel like to an extent we’re all broken.

I have some kind of disorder not even my therapist can diagnose after a month, I’m unmotivated, I’m slow, and quick to panic.

My friend [–] deals with stress and anxiety from his sexuality, and vents online about his family and their pressures.

My other friend [–] has been feeling uncomfortable about his gender identity, his mother has been abusive since he was born, causing him to go to court for custody concerns and arguments 3 times before 18, and is still largely unhappy with himself at times.

My online older brother [–] has been sexually abused by his older brother at 8 yrs old, abused by his mother his entire life, at one point being locked in his room for 4+ months straight as to not be distracted from his grades with nothing but his toys and a radio to distract himself. He’s been mentally shattered, abused in a romantic relationship, and abused at work.

And yet;

As broken as we all may be, when we spend time together it can still make us feel whole.

I don’t want them to feel broken ever again.

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Blank.

Disassociating is an extremely frustrating coping mechanism. Since around 6th grade, I’ve had fuzzy memories surrounding most of every day, and have a very hard time recalling very stressful times. I don’t know why or what caused it, but whenever I get scared, or super emotional, my mind just decides to go on vacation.

It helps in some situations, like when I’m playing Smash Bros competitively sometimes it’ll help me tune out my nerves and play calmly, but at the same time I can’t actively think and process my opponent’s movements.

I think it’s hard for most people who haven’t experienced it to comprehend, and I can definitely understand why. As far as I can tell from what I’ve talked about with a therapist, I probably have derealization disorder, not disassociative disorder. The difference is that I don’t necessarily have “out of body” experiences, rather, I’m fully conscious and aware of my surroundings, I can talk, and I can interact with people, but my mind isn’t there. It’s really hard to put into words.

Like, I’ll be messaging friends in bed, and disassociate. I’ll still feel my bed, and hear the sounds of the house, but won’t really process it. I’ll be holding conversations with friends, but won’t be thinking about responses or processing what they’ve said, yet my fingers will still be typing. I’m not sure what kind of an example I can bring up, since I don’t really know what’s normal auto-piloting through everyday and what’s disassociating, but I feel like I’ve heard someone mention something about driving.

Have you ever gotten in your car to drive from your house on a well known commute, like to school or work, and then after you start driving, you realize you’re there? You knew you were driving, but not necessarily conscientious of your surroundings or actively using thought, and when you try to remember specific details of the drive, it’s fuzzy. That’s kind of what it’s like to disassociate in a simple kind of way.

I dunno. Any of you guys ever disassociate? Especially any of y’all who’ve had the out of body versions of it?

When I hear the word “brick”, the first thing that comes to mind is my mom. I know that might sounds terrible, and I feel bad for it. She’s a wonderful person, and I’m so incredibly grateful to have her as my mom, but sometimes trying to talk or debate with her is like yelling at a brick wall.

See, she has the mentality that if she says something, that thing has to be done, no exceptions. And like, I’m totally on board for being honest and “being your word”, but sometimes she’s so unbelievably stubborn about “her word”, that even if something comes up that clearly makes it harder for me to meet a deadline she’s set or an expectation, no matter what I do or say doesn’t matter.

So when something like that comes up, and it doesn’t matter what I do, it’s really hard for me personally to stay motivated in general with her expectations. Like I do want to make her proud, and I don’t want her to be upset, but if I’m just gonna be let down when working towards something but like, say a teacher isn’t available after school, and I don’t get an assignment in because of it, regardless of how hard I worked on the assignment, I still get punished.

She’ll get mad at me for even trying to come up with an argument, and shut me down before I can even finish a sentence. It’s really irritating.

Again, please don’t misinterpret, I love her, and she does a lot of really incredible things, it’s just that this personality trait does not coincide with my own personality at all, and it makes things really hard for both of us sometimes. Do you guys ever have relationships like this? And if so how do you approach going about it so both people are happy?

Honestly I legitimately don’t understand any of my feelings regarding love. At least, romantically speaking. Sure, I understand familial love, and love for my hobbies. Love for games, love for friends.

But like…any feelings I’ve had for other people? Again–romantically speaking; I honestly can’t tell if they’re genuine. Does it just click once you start trying things for awhile? Or is it just something that you know when you know?? I don’t know. Er. Clearly.

To be honest I think about being in a relationship and finding a guy that shares my passions a LOT, but it’s never consistent. I’m not sure who or what I’m looking for in particular, and I have like phases where I think I’m super into people and when it doesn’t work out or I don’t really feel heart broken or anything.

Any advice or anyone who knows what I’m talking about?

I climbed in bed at the fine hour of 2AM last night, set my alarm for something reasonably early (12PM-1PM), and let myself slowly drift off. After a relatively peaceful rest, with just a few readjustments and short periods of consciousness here and there, 12PM inevitably came, and obviously I hit snooze.

12:20–snooze.

12:40–snooze.

Annnnnd 1:00–er well that was the last alarm so I knew if I went back to sleep I’d be comatose until like 3:00PM.

Feeling well rested and ready for the day, I sat up, stretched, and grabbed my phone. I laid back down and browsed YouTube and Discord until I accidentally drifted off for another 30 minutes, but subconsciously remembered that I don’t wanna go comatose and snapped back to consciousness in a cold sweat.

Dedicated to make sure I make the most of the day, I sat up, stretched, and grabbed my phone. However; this time I didn’t lay back down. Wow! Would ya look at me go man. I slowly disassociated until I realized that an hour had passed of yet another productive day, felt icky, and decided right then and there that I’d be more productive for the day. I got up, and climbed into the bath to clean up.

Feeling cleaner, well rested, and now anxious about how little I was accomplishing, and the blog post I needed to make, I sunk down a little, bundled up with half of my body submerged in the water, and grabbed my phone. Baths are great, but lemme tell you, spending over an hour in the tub will dry your skin out a tad bit. But I digress. Noticing that even more time had passed than I felt comfortable with, I cleaned my hair, then drained the tub whilst drying off.

It’s like what, 3:20 now? My mom came in to tell me about my chore earlier, and since I was feeling a little hungry I figured I’d ask about what she had planned for my first meal of the day; dinner. After choosing Zupas to go for dinner, I took another 20 minutes in bed of browsing my phone, then finally took the effort to climb out of bed and clothe myself. Nice.

Clothed, clean, and at least ready to eat when it arrives, I was finally ready to get started on being productive. However…..my mind was feeling a tad bit sluggish at the time, so I figured a few matches in Elite Smash for Super Smash Brothers couldn’t hurt.

Cut to an hour of tryharding and tilt later, I finally make the effort to respond to at least half of the messages I had received on my phone, the others being too intimidating to respond to then, and sit down at my computer to start writing.

And now that I’ve spent 15 minutes reflecting on my day so far, honestly? I don’t have much to say. I’m certain that lazy days like this aren’t a bad thing necessarily, but it feels like when I don’t have school or work or a Smash tournament, everyday goes like this…

What am I doing?

I can’t wear hats. I used to, to cover up a bad hair day, or just to try and compliment an outfit, but it feels suffocating.

Even when I stopped wearing physical hats, during Jr. High it felt like I was constantly wearing different hats, and was never without them. One hat to make my friends laugh and relate to me, one hat to help dismiss my mother’s growing concern for my clear gaming addition and disassociation from school; followed up by a hat to convince and apologize to her, letting her know everything was ok when clearly it wasn’t.

The only times I let my hair out was when I was alone, and it’d be such a mess and so misshapen that I’d panic and cry about it, until I decided to wear a hat to bed as to avoid having to deal with it. Eventually my friends began to notice that as ok as my hat was, I clearly wasn’t.

Slowly, I forced myself to stop wearing hats, trying to accept my hair, as messy as it may be, and found that most people still loved me, most importantly, well–me.

Now there’s nothing wrong with hats, and I’m not meaning to bash on those who wear them to hide their hair, sometimes it’s genuinely just easier, but I myself don’t feel comfortable while wearing them, nor do I think I look better.

–

–

–

Apart from the beanies I like during the winter, they’re soft and cover up my messy hair.

.

Shit. Well it was almost a cool analogy :p

“I’ll write something for my blog tomorrow, even if it’s not a continuation of the story. But I’m tired and have a headache, so I’ll just rest up and finish it later, I couldn’t focus if I tried to.”

That was me. For the past week. Dunno what it is; fine one minute, sit down to write, then bam, migraine. So? I’m sitting here, writing about migraines whilst having a migraine. I don’t know what’s so stressful to me about writing up these blog posts, I go through draft after draft, yet nothing ever seems good enough.

This whole thing’s anonymous, right? So what’s there to be scared of with a poorly written/composed post every now and then? Well?- Nothing honestly. The stress is completely pointless, yet so vividly real and present.

And it’s not just writing. Wanna hang out with friends? Bam. Migraine. Wanna go out of the house to see something cool? Bam. Migraine. It’s so frustrating, but when I get frustrated- ba–…you guys get the point.

Don’t misinterpret, I love writing, I love hanging out with my friends, and seeing cool stuff, but man oh man does every part of my subconscious seem dead-set on changing my mind on the matter.

This has been fun, I’ll write another post soon. After I take some more ibuprofen of course.

– There you go.

– Thanks.

I’m gonna be a dad!

I just talked to my wife.

My baby’s gonna be delivered any minute.

– Hey, get out of the way.

– Hey, I’m gonna be a dad.

Congratulate me.

Good for you, Herb.

Don’t even think about it.

Hey!

Sorry. How are you?

Nice to see you. I’m gonna be a dad!

Congrats!

Hey, Mr. Nuts,

did you hear the news?

– Yeah.

– Beautiful day, isn’t it?

I’m here. I’m here.

– I’m here.

– Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.

You missed the delivery.

But it’s okay.

Making the baby’s the fun part.

Honey, I think

you’ve got the wrong…

No, I don’t need to see the directions.

Push, push.

Push!

Twelve hours of labor.

Oh, but it was worth it.

Look at him. Look at him.

Rodney Copperbottom.

He’s got your mom’s eyes

and my dad’s nose.

I knew we were smart

to save those parts.

This Copperbottom will do great things

for the world, I can feel it.

– Honey?

– What?

What’s that extra piece?

Oh, no, they always put in an extra…

We did want a boy, right?

This won’t hurt a bit, son.

Got your nose. Got your nose.

Got your…

– Hi, son.

– Are those my big-boy parts?

They sure are.

They’re not shiny.

Well, they’re not brand-new.

They’re preowned. So…

They’re hand-me-downs

from your cousin Jeffrey.

And they’re only for a year.

Hey, Dad, who’s that?

That, Rodney, is Bigweld.

The greatest robot in the world.

I thought you were

the greatest robot in the world.

No, besides me.

He’s the head of Bigweld Industries.

He invents things

that make everyone’s life better.

– Could I meet him?

– Sure, maybe someday.

– Dad?

– Yeah?

– What do you do?

– Me? I work in a big, fancy restaurant.

I’m a dishwasher.

And now, live from Robot City,

it’s The Bigweld Show.

Oh, yeah!

Come on, Dad, you’re missing it.

All right, Rodney.

All right, I’m coming. I’m coming.

I had to bring work home

with me again, I’m sorry.

Mr. Gunk has really been piling it on.

And now, the host of our show,

Bigweld.

Welcome. This week I thought you’d like

to take a look around Bigweld Industries.

This here is the front gate.

Kind of cute, ain’t it?

– Good morning, Tim.

– Good morning, Mr. Bigweld, sir.

Tim, who closed the front gate?

Tim, who closed the front gate?

Well, I just thought since…

We never shut the gate, Tim.

Shutting this gate means

shutting out fresh ideas.

See, every day, robots come here

from hither and yon…

…bringing us new ideas.

And I listen to

every single one of them.

So remember, whether a bot is made

of new parts, old parts or spare parts…

…you can shine

no matter what you’re made of.

He’s talking to me, Dad.

He sure is, son. He sure is.

Okay, folks, let’s get to inventing.

You know, I love to tinker…

…but all the tinkering in the world isn’t

useful unless it starts with a good idea.

So look around for a need and start

coming up with ideas to fill that need.

One idea will lead to another,

and before you know it…

…you’ve done it.

See a need, fill a need.

That’s it, Dad. I have to look for…

…a need.

Easy, now.

– Hey there, sport.

– Oh, hi.

These are your -year-old parts.

They’re…

Hand-me-downs. I know, Dad.

– I don’t mind.

– They are from your cousin…

…Veronica.

You know how popular she is.

Thanks.

Oh, hey. Hey.

Soon as you reach the age where your

warranty expires, you start falling apart.

Pretty soon there’s gonna be

more duct tape than me.

– Can I try it now, Dad?

– Oh, Rodney…

– Have you worked all the kinks out of it?

– This is gonna make your job easy.

I invented it for you.

Okay. Let’s try it.

Great. Okay, this is it.

Wonderbot, go to work.

Yeah, yeah.

Hey!

Copperbottom!

– Mr. Gunk.

– What is that?

– Oh, that. My son made it.

– What’s it doing?

Mr. Gunk, please,

you’re making it nervous.

It’s wrecking my kitchen!

– I’ll stop it.

– No!

Your son, huh?

It wasn’t his fault.

He had nothing to do with it.

Yes, sir, he’s a brilliant boy.

An inventor.

You, clean up this mess.

And, you, get out.

Inventor.

You’re the hand-me-down son of a

dishwasher, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Somebody scrape this crud off of me.

And serve it to the customers.

Roundtrip or one-way?

One-way.

There you are. I told you I’d find him.

– It’s a mother’s instinct.

– Instinct? He left us a note:

“I’m leaving.

I’ll be at the train station.”

Never mind. Pick up that suitcase.

You’re coming home.

No, Mom. I have to do this.

I’m going to Robot City tonight.

I’m gonna get a job and I’m gonna

help Dad pay back Mr. Gunk.

Talk to him.

– Ro…

– Robot City? You’re just a kid.

I’m never gonna be someone here.

I wanna be an inventor.

I wanna meet Bigweld.

I wanna be somebody.

You are somebody.

Somebody who’s not

getting on that train.

– Yes, I am.

– Talk to him.

– One ticket for Robot City.

– Where are you going?

– Not me. Him.

– But…

Rodney, did you know that when I was

your age, I wanted to be a musician?

I played pretty well too…

…but my dad was worried

I wouldn’t be able to make a living.

So I got refitted to be a dishwasher.

Now, I’m not complaining.

But I’ve always said to myself…

…if I could do it over again,

I would follow my dream.

You’ve got greatness in you, Rodney.

Never doubt it.

You go to Robot City.

You go meet Bigweld,

and you show him your big ideas.

And, Rodney…

…never, never give up.

All aboard.

Mom.

I won’t let you down, Dad.

I’ll make you proud.

I know you will.

Excuse me, I wonder if…

– Gave at the office.

– I wonder if you…

Could you direct me

to Bigweld Indust…?

– What?

– Perfect. That will be bucks.

Fifty bucks? For what?

A beautiful picture

of your first moment in Robot City.

There. Your second moment.

That’s another $ .

Are you keeping track?

Come on, work with me, work with me.

More pout, less pose.

Great. Inside of you is a fashion model

waiting to throw up.

Give me those eyes. Big eyes, big eyes.

Give me big anime eyes.

– Yeah! Loving it, loving it, loving it!

– I don’t want any pictures.

– You don’t?

– No.

That’s all right. There’s no film.

Would you like a map to the stars’ homes?

Where did he go?

– Buddy, wanna buy a watch?

– Don’t buy us, we’re fakes.

Next.

Excuse me, how do I get

to Bigweld Industries?

Oh, great…

Never mind.

Hi, excuse me.

How do I get to Bigweld Industries?

What?

Yeah, thanks.

Cross-town express

to Foundry District…

…with stops at Bigweld Industries

and Battery Park only.

Please tighten all spools, nuts, bolts

and detachable appendages.

Riders with high oil pressure

are advised to take the local.

Thank you, and have a nice day.

No, no.

– Say, are you following me?

– No.

– First time on the cross-town express?

– Well, actually, l…

Oh, boy.

Good luck in the big city. If you can

make it here, you can make it anywhere.

And if you can’t make it here,

welcome to the club.

– Oh, no.

– What? What is it?

We’re going off the track.

We’re gonna crash!

– What?

– I don’t wanna die.

I was just kidding.

Just put your head between your legs.

Yeah!

There goes my stop.

I tell you, the things that fall off me…

It’s embarrassing.

   

         

Sorry.



   

         

You know, it used to be a lot worse.

They had this giant hammer...



   

         

Oh, they brought it back.



   

         

Stick with me. I know this town

like the back of my hand.



   

         

Hey, that's new.



   

         

Excuse me. Can I help you?



   

         

Sorry, l...



   

         

- Hey, you're Tim from the TV show.

- That's me.



   

         

Well, hey, Tim.



   

         

Who closed the gate?

It's never supposed to be...



   

         

Yeah, okay, what do you want?



   

         

I'd like to see Mr. Bigweld.



   

         

I'm an inventor.



   

         

Oh, why didn't you say so?



   

         

Stand back.



   

         

Thanks.



   

         

What?



   

         

I got you. You see, because you were

all excited and then, boom!



   

         

All right, I had my laugh. Go on in.



   

         

Now, that's funny.



   

         

The second time.



   

         

You really think I'm gonna let you in.

But I'm not.



   

         

Sorry, kid, nobody gets in.

Company rules.



   

         

Company ru...? Well, then

how do they hire new inventors?



   

         

They don't. Those days are over.



   

         

My advice: Come back two years ago.

Then the job is yours.



   

         

So remember, whether a bot is made

of new parts, old parts or spare parts...



   

         

...you can shine

no matter what you're made of.



   

         

My goodness,

what a remarkable legacy.



   

         

Concern for the common robot.



   

         

You don't come across old-fashioned

values like that anymore, friends.



   

         

And for good reason.



   

         

There's no money in it!



   

         

Hello? Memo to Bigweld:

We're not a charity.



   

         

That's why old fat face

no longer sits in the big chair.



   

         

He's a relic.



   

         

So I don't wanna hear another,

"Where's Bigweld?"



   

         

We'll see him next month at the

Bigweld Ball. He always goes to that.



   

         

Now, let's get down to the business

of sucking every loose penny...



   

         

...out of

Mr. and Mrs. Average-Knucklehead.

Alright I think that’s enough of that. I hope you appreciate the call-back Mr. Nelson 🙂

Shamir chokes back a cough, her lungs convulsing from overexertion, dashing lightly on top of the brown leaves, acutely aware of the sticks and forest floor, knowing one slip up can throw all of Buldo’s hard work away. Tears still streaming down her eyes, through her blurred vision she spots a faint rustling from a bush on her right. Her cat-like tail stiffens alarmingly, and she pivots in an attempt to shift her momentum to the side. She pushes off the ground as hard as she can, praying to escape the ambush.

Not enough.

Out of the corner of her eye she spots the silhouette springing out of the bush, and with a small yelp from Shamir, the body collides into her, causing them to tumble down a small slope to the side of the path. Despite her dexterity, Shamir was almost immediately overtaken and pinned to the ground by the assailant. She opens her mouth to scream, but a rough, calloused hand is quickly cupped over her mouth, muffling the yelling.

“Hush up will ya?! Do you want to be killed you idiot??” The figure whispers agitatedly. He takes his other hand off of her wrist to flick off his hood, revealing what appears to be some kind of canine ears on his head. “I’m not here to capture you, quite the opposite in fact! Now please, just follow me, quickly!” He stands up, gesturing for Shamir to follow him farther off the path.

Shamir took a second to process the situation, then quietly got back to her feet, following behind him. As they proceed farther into the dense woods, the trees seem to thicken, light slowly fading away, and all sounds seem to echo across the forest floor. After about two more minutes of running, the man tucks behind a tree, and wriggles himself underneath a particularly large tree, some of the roots protruding from the ground, opening up into the earth below. Despite the warnings from her guardians about the forest, Shamir crouched down, prying herself in between the roots.

She began to fall, the inky blackness of the hole seemingly consuming her vision. She could see nothing, and feel nothing other than the cold wind whipping around her. Covering her mouth to stop herself from screaming, tears streaming out of her eyes from shock and the cold wind, she listened hard for the inevitable sound of the other man meeting some kind of cold, hard, stone floor.

15 seconds pass, still nothing. She closes her eyes, trying to calm herself to no avail. But somehow, her momentum seemed to be slowing, and light began to seep through her shut eyelids. Looking down sheepishly, she spots a hole down below her, torches lighting the decent down. The stone walls around her seem immaculately cut, no faults at all that she could see. As the hole grows closer her momentum slowed ever more, until she inevitably falls through. Her stomach twists as her momentum seems to shift 180°, and she lurches forwards, landing hard on some kind of soft floor.

She groggily pushes herself off of the grass she seemed to land in, looking around in awe at the brightly lit forest clearing around her. A strong set of hands lift her up and turn her around, and she’s met face to face with the dog-eared man.

“I’ll explain everything in time, but please, you’re hyperventilating. Breath.”