I just had my 23rd birthday, a few days ago, and honestly it was probably one of the worst birthdays I’ve ever had. Only because one of my dogs of 12 years, Lady, decided to die the day before. I’ve had her through my entire teenage years and the first three years of my twenties. Might I just say, losing a dog, really really sucks. (Especially around your birthday)
At the moment I feel very lonely and depressed, like even the smallest task is too much. The only thing that feels like it helps are my plants. Does anybody of you know the feeling of being trapped and can give me some tips that might help to get out of this hole?
A phone number. It’s all that remains after the tragic passing of your best friend and your forever love, Iwaizumi Hajime. Before you could even dream of confessing, life played a cruel hand and now you’re left to pick up the pieces of a life without your presumed soulmate. Five months from that fateful day and you still find yourself sending messages to him, clinging to the false hope that he’ll answer. So when a reply does come in from someone named Miya Osamu, who not only understands the pain you feel but extends a lifeline, you step forward and take it.
Pairing:Timeskip! Miya Osamu x F! Reader
Genre: Angst (HEAVY HEAVY HEAVY), Romance, Drama
Warnings: Mentions of previous character death, mentions of depression, alcohol use, mentions of suicide & suicidal thoughts
Status:COMPLETE!
A/N: Hi everyone, I’m very excited to share this story with you. BUT this story can be very triggering, so please heed the warnings. I will do my best with the warnings before each chapter but please feel free to tell me if I miss anything. There are mentions of past character deaths - the passings will NOT be part of the story but will be mentioned frequently. This is not a fun, lighthearted story. I promise a happy ending but it’s going to take some time to get there. Please enjoy!
Inspired By:ghostin’byuwurakax (a great story and an even greater person, show her some love!)
Why am I so unhappy? Postpartum depression maybe. Literally nothing makes me happy but my son. He’s the o my thing that being hot into my life. But besides that if I’m not around him or if he’s sleeping I’m miserable. That’s how I feel 90% of the time even is he is up and about laughing which I love to see him doing there’s still this sadness deep down underneath that smile. My baby doesn’t make me sad or unhappy. I know what is it sort of. Recently I’m expressed my feelings or sadness on to my so called partner. The conversation started off with him asking me what’s wrong because I guess I’d been moping around all day. I told him that I haven’t been happy lately and he told me yes I have. I told him I was not happy and he asked why. I didn’t know how to properly put my answer into words so I tried my best. “I just need a break.” He took this to heart thinking that I meant from him but what I really meant was from everything. I’m a mom 24/7 and he’s a dad less then half of that, I need time to myself to figure out who I am again. I expressed this to him and all he said was okay. Okay. And this was weeks ago, he still hasn’t even tried to put in any effort to make me happy. I feel so alone. I have to fake being happy around everyone because I don’t want to seem like I don’t know I’m just a sad sap but I am. I cry every night and he doesn’t notice. And for me to actually think I was in love with him. I fouled myself. I loved him and I still do but I’m not or ever have been in love with him. He was right when I was pregnant and he said we barely knew each other. I will never regret my baby NEVER but I do regret who I had a baby with. I wish he was more caring and actually took what I wanted into consideration. “Oh baby I see that you’re overwhelmed with taking care of the baby. Let me wash the bottles and clean up the room.” No it’s never that. I do everything! I wash the babies clothes, I clean his bottles, I bath him, I dress him, I make his doctors appointments, I put him under my insurance, I get him everything he needs, I feed him, I wake up in the middle of the night to change him, I put him to sleep, I clean up after all of us. Best part is I came to love with him and his family, so we’re staying in his bedroom. I try to clean to you the room and he gets upset about me straightening up. What kind of… you know what? Never mind. I just want to happy and feel appreciated. I’m freaking tired of being sad. I need my own space, my own home for me and my son because I can’t rely on his dad to do anything for us. And honestly I don’t know why I’m going so hard tonight maybe because I’m just up thinking when everyone else is sound asleep. Anyway I’m about to go cry again.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I have a boyfriend, and I love him so much. He loves me too I think. We’ve been dating for just about 8 months now. I just feel bad. He shouldn’t have to put up with me. He shouldn’t have to deal with me. All I do is make everything worse for everyone around me. I just don’t want to be here anymore. Literally nothing helps. My grandfather died just over two months ago. I miss him so much, but I know that if he can see me he’s looking down so disappointed. No one can ever love me as fully and unconditionally as he did. I want to be with him again. I want to tell him how much he meant to me; how much I loved him; and how much I miss him. It’s gotten so bad that I have to drop out of college. I can’t keep my grades up. I can’t bring myself to show up to class. I’m worthless. I’m far behind my peers in everything. I can’t leave my house without having panic attacks. I feel so alone and so unloved. No one listens to me. I feel like I have nothing and no one. I don’t know what I’m fighting for and how much longer I can fight for.
I think I was 14, when I read Elizabeth bishop’s infamous poem - ‘One Art’ for the first time; after partially hearing it in the movie 'in her shoes’. I remember bawling over it as if the pain from the words were coming from somewhere deep within me. I had just lost a bestfriend due to miscommunication, jealousy,pettiness or simply teenage situationships.
’The art of losing isn’t hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.’
My heartbroken teenage self just truly wanted to believe that. That somethings are just found so they could be lost again. I cried over this poem, with a broken heart, an apology I never got, and an apology I never gave.
Years have gone by now and I will be 22 this year. I have grown and grown up. I raised myself to be an intellectual, took the path of the sciences and trying my best to build a life for myself.
But in all the technicalities of my basic existence, competition and speed of the world that we live in, today I found Elizabeth Bishop again.
My eyes trembled upon 'One Art’ again.
And this poor heart cried again.
I have lived and loved and lost and loved and lived and lost again. But the world teaches you, trains you to shove it deep within and move on as you have no time, there are other important things you have to work on.
Feelings, the pain, the people? They will come and go along.
As I read through this beautiful poem again,
I thought of my hostel room keys and the notes I lost, the phone numbers I didn’t gave and hidden glances across the room and the tea which was always hot. The moments I yearn for but are lost.
Friends I made and the great team we were, the dances, the classroom romances,the laundry days, 12 am, a little something about him and something about her.
Year 2020 and the zoom calls. The new internet era we found and some dear ones we lost.
The things I wanted to do, and places I didn’t go. And how 2021 was hardest I had ever known.
My childhood home and the childhood friend. The cities I traveled, lived and left. The plans that never got executed and how we are forgetting each other’s names.
But life goes on, the moments I yearn for are getting lost again.
But losing you, as each face flashes in front of my eyes, just pains.
And how each time I master this art of self deception, a part of me gets lost in translation.
As sad is this poem maybe, I surely admire,
how now i read this as a grown up, i know for a fact, the poet and I are both beautiful liars.
So I’m posting this on here because I don’t really have anyone who will actually care in my life and I just wanna get it off of my chest.
For the past few months I have been in such a deep depression, and for the last week or so it has been so bad that I have been crying my self to sleep. I feel that I will never get caught up in bills even though I am working 2 jobs and I’ll never be able to move out of my parents house. The situation is very toxic to say the least.
Ever since I made a rash choice to quit my first job I have been behind on paying my bills to my mom has been on my ass and my sister has been on my ass because she had to help my mom when I failed about money and shit. Which I understand to a point and I know that I need to pay them, it’s just very disheartening as I am sure a lot of people know to work in retail and deal with the public being them (especially during the pandemic in a state that never took it seriously). To not be able to get new work pants because you wore holes into the only pair of pants that can be worn to work. And that the holes can’t be fixed
Being with out my medication since I made the huge move from Colorado to Florida. I am not a very stable person. So when I saw a post on Craigslist for a black kitten I asked if I could adopt him, and they said yes. He is fixed and up to date on his shots and young enough that my cat that I have will accept him. I am so so excited to get my new baby boy.
Everyone reading this post meet Runt. I am going to change his name, to Binx or Salem. Depending on what kind of vide I get from him. (This is the only picture I have of him so far since I get him tomorrow)
I am crying again writing this post but for once in a long time, they aren’t tears of despair. If the cure to my depression is just adopting stray cats then I welcome being a crazy cat lady.
