Trauma Bonding - Blog Posts

The best relationships in series, movies, anime, books and etc...

are those with a trauma bond!

maturing is realizing you don’t want a boyfriend or a girlfriend but rather a partner (good friend, business partner, sworn enemy with whom you must raise children with etc) who you have incredible sexual tension with and that is all

I love this family sm

That movie was spectacular

Ah, trauma bonds.

I must not waste my own love on a love that shouldn't have been. And yet here I am, crying more for my father, who still lives, than for any dead being. There are not tears enough in the ocean with which to express my cries; not enough fire on all the earth to succumb my rage; not enough beauty in this world to make up for the illusory treasure I have forever lost. I must hold my head high and acknowledge gone. I must hold my head high and acknowledge forever. It was not meant to be. I am not dissonant enough to believe there is some higher, divine purpose to this injustice. But I am no longer foolish enough to give him all of my love. I am no longer foolish enough to sell myself to a soul so loveless that it cannot survive without a vessel. It is over. He is gone.

𝕊𝔼𝕃𝔼ℕ𝔼

Ch. 1: after the war

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

word count: 1,033

tags/cw: self insert, OC, angst, mentions of death & violence, drugs, sibling bonding, unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: selene is the backstory to my tmnt oc, Monet. they are the oldest sibling of the turtles and I'll leave a link to their bio so you can understand their character more. this is the first fanfic I've written since 2017 so please forgive me if it sounds like it came from that era. I also don't have a proof-reader, if there are any mistakes I apologize :)

Under the city that never sleeps, next to rumbling tunnels was the surprising quiet of the turtle’s lair and if you were to stand in the center of it all, everything from the world above would be faint to your ears. It was just a few hours away from morning, but there below the skylight on the creaky wood of the highest platform came the harsh stench of cigarette smoke.

A turtle older than the rest taking puff after puff as they stared into the heavily frosted windows above, their aching legs squatting over. Next to them was a busted navy green radio playing some random station, static interrupting most of the lyrics. Memories of everything that had happened in the months before kept them from curling up under freshly washed sheets. Watching the boys they had been around since they were tiny little eggs take down a man, a monster, who had terrorized all of them for years. This whole messed up ordeal was a weight on the eldest shoulders, a weight that wasn’t meant to be carried alone like this. The memory of watching their father die right in front of their eyes didn't help much either, it still lingered in the back of their head hour after hour. And now, because of that, they were responsible for the well-being of four mutant turtles who could honestly take care of themselves just fine but what kind of sibling would that make them if they just abandoned this family because of the heart ache. Splinter would be disappointed wouldn't he? Or maybe he would understand, he had watched his own wife be killed before him, he would understand the absolute horror of witnessing your loved one be brutally murdered before you and the need to get the hell away. Everyday felt like the last, nightmare after nightmare, sleepless nights and aching joints. The heavy lump in your throat that just wouldn't go away, like you're under the pressure of being 20,000 feet below water, swimming up would just be so fucking pointless…

“Monet?”

As quickly as russet eyes widened, the mutant extinguished the flame of their cigarette, discarding it to the side before standing up to face the blue clad turtle behind them. Sneaky brother, you didn’t even creak the wood.

“Leonardo, you should be in bed”

“I could say the same for you” Leonardo retorted as he sat on the edge of the wood, inviting the yellow clad turtle to do the same. The air around them growing thick.

Monet felt themselves huff at the sound of their younger brother’s tone but it wasn’t the first or the last time they’d hear it, and it brought a strange comfort to them. They walked over and plopped down, heavy scarred legs dangling over the wood, surprisingly none of them sustained splinters from these platforms. Leonardo glanced over before sighing and taking off his mask, a habit he had started to grow when he needed to have a tough conversation with someone. He didn’t want the mask in the way he said. Nothing to hide.

“You were smoking again, weren’t you?” It was, of course, obvious. The remaining smoke from the discarded bud still lingering around “Said you would stop months ago”

Monet stared down towards the water below the skylight, one slip and anyone would fall down about 10 feet. The yellow masked turtle shrugged, unaware of the eye bags underneath both their eyes and Leonardo's grim expression.

“It's hard to break habits”

“You know what Donnie said about this”

“Then don't tell him”

Leonardo felt his shell tighten before he shook his head and grabbed Monet's arm tightly, trying to force his older sibling to look at him but they wouldn't budge. How could they? To look into their brother's sharp blue eyes and not notice how much he had grown but instead seeing the baby turtle they had helped raise alongside their father. It was too much.

“Monet, you can't keep avoiding everything, you don't even go out on patrol anymore”

“..I just need time”

“How much time? You're perfectly healthy, and we're hurting just as much as you are but you have to learn how to continue in life” Leonardo spoke up, his words came out a bit harsher then he wanted them to but he had grown far from just worried about Monet.

He couldn't just watch as his sibling withered away in a cloud of cigarette smoke, hell, he had tried to get rid of the packs Monet had brought home but it wasn't enough. Even Donatello, the genius that he was, couldn't find a way to help.

“Please, just..just start joining us on patrol again, ok? We want you around, Mikey misses his big sibling”

Leonardo tried to flash Monet a somber smile but it immediately went away as he watched Monet's eyes tear up as the yellow clad turtle finally looked in his direction. Their bandaged hands trembling as they murmured nothing but ‘I’m sorry’s. He hadn't seen them cry since Splinter’s funeral, Leonardo had finally gotten past a wall of many. This was the moment he had desperately needed to have with his older sibling, to help them heal just as the others had helped each other. Monet sniffled, his snout twitching before they reached over and held Leonardo's face, fingers tracing the details of their baby brother's cheeks, a sad chuckle leaving his throat as he teared up more.

“You’re so much like our dad” Monet whispered as he felt the urge to do something he hadn't done in over a decade.

With a heavy heart, the mutant pulled Leonardo onto his lap and held him close, the exact way a mother would hold her newborn baby. Leonardo froze slightly, his eyes widening in confusion as he glanced up at them.

“What..what are you doing?”

“I used to hold you like this when you were just a baby turtle”

“But I'm not”

“I know, but you'll always be my baby brother to me” Monet just held onto him really tight, a very confused turtle who slowly gave in and leaned into the touch with a warm smile.

a/n: it's shit right? this will probably just be a short series, I just wanted to give Monet an actual story

A lot of pop psychology gets thrown around and since I already have a headache, here's preventing you lot from making it worse.

Love-bombing: A manipulation tactic of increasing affection and grand gestures before or after doing something abusive, specifically to weasel one's way out of consequences.

What it is not: A streak of affection and generosity towards friends/loved ones.

Trauma-bonding: Knowingly traumatizing someone to take advantage of their vulnerable state, to then act like the "hero" or the one who cheers them up.

What it is not: Bonding over similar traumas.

Gaslighting: *Knowingly* convincing someone they cannot trust their own perception of a situation in pursuit of one's own narrative.

What it is not: Misaligned perception of events.

Narcissist: Someone afflicted with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, a traumagenic cluster B disorder, that struggles with self-obsession, paranoia, craving validity from the public, delusions of grandeur, and social disconnection.

It is not: Your rubbish ex that cheated on you.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

-Xanthe

Trauma Bonding

Imagine you’re 5’5” standing in a pool that is 3 foot deep. It’s comfortable. The water is the perfect temperature, you can freely roam about playing or relaxing. Imagine that once a month, that pool deepens by 2 centimeters. A centimeter is tiny.. you probably aren’t even aware that your body adjusted to the change. You may have had a moment where things felt odd, but you acclimated.

After a year however, your 9 1/2 inches deeper than when you started. It’s still comfortable. You’re still adequately above water. What about two years? Three? Suddenly you realize your 2 inches over your head. You stand on your toes for a while, you can allow your body to float for a while, but your feet always return to try to find its footing. Now you aren’t focused on carefree frolicking.. now you’re focused on survival. You’re tired. You don’t have the strength anymore to signal for help. Why didn’t you get out of the water sooner? Maybe you deserve being in this water. Wouldn’t a normal person have gotten out long before now? The water use to be so amazing though! It felt like everything you ever wanted. It felt safe and peaceful, sure there were storms, but the waters always calmed eventually. You love this pool.. don’t you? You use to. You needed it. Your body felt like it couldn’t survive without it. Your mind was convinced you would never be the same without it.

Trauma bonding is a lot like this. It is a chemical reaction that occurs just like in any other addiction. Your body craves the relationship just like an alcoholic craves alcohol. Just like someone who suffers from a cutting or eating disorder. Just like anyone addicted to gambling, porn, gaming etc.

If you have ever reached subspace, think about that feeling of euphoria, as well as that crash when it’s over. The crash isn’t fun, but that high feels amazing. The only real difference is that D/s is a healthy relationship where both partners support and care about each other. A narcissist loves seeing you crash and knows the higher they take you, the harder you’ll crash. They know the more highs they give you, the more addicted you’ll become. You aren’t being dramatic when you say you feel like you can’t live without this.. your body believes that based on the chemicals regularly created and depleted in your body. It isn’t your fault. But it doesn’t mean you have to stay in the pool. I know it’s hard. I know you’re tired and I know it feels hopeless. I know you just want to breathe. There is help. There are people nearby with life boats, even if you can’t see them. Please check my tags for advice on how to get out.

“One of the great tragedies of all forms of abuse is that the abused person can become emotionally dependent on the perpetrator through a process called traumatic bonding. (…) This is a bitter psychological irony. Child abuse works in the same way; in fact, children can become more strongly attached to abusive parents than to nonabusive ones. (…) Almost no abuser is mean or frightening all the time. At least occasionally he is loving, gentle, and humorous and perhaps even capable of compassion and empathy. This intermittent, and usually unpredictable, kindness is critical to forming traumatic attachments. When a person has suffered harsh, painful treatment over an extended period of time, they naturally feel a flood of love and gratitude toward anyone who brings relief, like the surge of affection one might feel for the hand that offers a glass of water on a scorching day. But in situations of abuse, the rescuer and the tormentor are the very same person.”

— Lundy Bancroft, Why Does He Do That?, 2002

im tired of ppl misusing these terms so:

codependent does not mean two people who have a strong attachment and are very clingy towards one another

codependent means a specific type of unhealthy relationship where one person engages in unhealthy/self-destructive behaviours and the other person becomes their caretaker whilst enabling them, out of a need to feel needed

trauma bonding does not mean two people find common ground because they've both been through similar traumatic events and grow close because they understand each other's experiences

trauma bonding means bonding to your abuser as a survival strategy or due to manipulation. (similar to the concept of stockholm syndrome)

lights camera action by lana del ray gives me emotions that I can only describe as the need to peel off your skin and rot on the floor so that you never existed in the first place and not in a good way. Iblike the song its a good song and she sings it beautifully but I can't ever listen to it and even coming across it on tiktok is enough to send me into an episode. I don't know if I even saw it on tiktok but its in my head now and I was tryna have a good day but its hard when you feel the need to eat your own spine rn.

Time to play my favorite game

am i asexual or am i sex repulsed due to trauma??

we'll never know bc we're too scared to find out

S Y N C H R O N I C I T Y

i’ve been adept to recognizing synchronicity in my life since i learned what it was, years ago. it’s not exactly a household word, but thankfully enough people know what it is that i’ve had great conversations.

usually when it happens, i feel at ease, and my anxieties wash away, if only for a little while.

in this post, i’ll be talking about all the crazy synchronicities that happened with the guy i was seeing this summer.

it first happened with a visit from a ghost. yes, you read that right. and no, i’m not crazy, and i know it wasn’t a hallucination.

i’ve felt spirits here and there since i was young. sometimes i’m not sure if it’s just a projection of my consciousness, but other times it’s been rather undeniable. this was one of those times.

one example of synchronicity in my life was when i was driving around my neighborhood. i wanted to play a specific CD, but i was driving and i didn’t want to get distracted so i was like oh well. then, out of nowhere, my radio which was turned off, suddenly turns on, and the cd that was in ejects. my radio has never malfunctioned like that before, and hasn’t since. but, taking it as a sign, i pulled over and switched the cds.

now. to the story.

it was a summer day. i was on my phone looking for a hookup online, and i felt a presence outside of my bedroom window. i didn’t recognize it. usually i feel family members or friends who have passed away, but i didn’t know who this was. i shrugged it off and went to go meet up with a guy.

i get to the motel, and he doesn’t show. i get back online, and a guy who has pestered me for years messages me. i give in, for no particular reason. i had been ignoring this guy for a while.

when i get to his house, i know within minutes that i want to marry him. he has a house, is just my type, and there’s other factors i’d rather not get into. but i know almost immediately.

he feels something too. we hit it off, exchange numbers. and i’m back over there the next day. we end up spending every day together for the next two months.

a couple weeks into the relationship, i feel the same spirit that i felt outside my bedroom window. once, outside his bedroom window. and the second time inside his bedroom. perplexed, i eventually make the connection that it is his ex boyfriend who recently passed away.

he told me within the first few days getting to know each other, and he has a picture of him over his bed. i can still feel the grief he has over what had happened. he tells me the exact day it happened, and what ensued.

it’s not until we are sitting on his couch and he shows me a picture of them that i make the connection. the spirit that had been visiting me was tall. his ex was tall. excited, i tell him that i felt a presence that i believed was his ex.

i told him how i believed that he led me to him, since that day i was supposed to meet up with someone else, and it just so happened that it didn’t work out and i ended up going to his place.

i’ve always been a spiritual person. i carry sage and palo santo on me. i saged this guys house, and played youtube videos to raise the aura of his home. i left palo santo on his living room shelf that had pictures and memorabilia of his family members.

i left a cigarette out beneath a photo of his deceased ex, to honor him, and i was very thankful for being brought to this new guy i liked so much. at this point i believed his ex brought me to him to help him with his grief. i would often pray to his ex to decide on what to do, especially later when things got ugly.

through the course of the summer, things got more serious. i started planning a life with him. he was coming over to my house, something which i had never really done before. i live with my grandma and never really brought romantic partners over. he was a first for that, and made me feel like i got the stereotypical high school relationship i never got.

things with him clicked. our sex was electrifying. i never felt that sexually honest and compatible with someone. i would imagine us having sex in so many different locations. i started to see him as a husband.

however, the spirits i had communed with started to give me concern. i’ll get more into that after i discuss the dream.

T H E D R E A M

i’ve had psychic dreams since my early 20s, or so i thought. recently i’ve had two childhood dreams come true. anyway —

i had a dream about a year before i met this guy. i was at my mom’s house, and i remember waking up from it and getting the sense that it was important. it was vivid, and something in me just knew it was important for some reason.

in the dream, i’m behind my car, it’s night time. i’m in a sketchy neighborhood, and jacob, a man who i was intensely in love with, was helping me put art in the back of my car. a painting.

some things happen in between and i don’t remember. the next thing i know, i am sitting or laying and there is a gun. a man with a gun. just before there is a shot, i immediately wake up.

i went downstairs and got some water. over the next few months, i didn’t think too much of the dream. however, it started weighing on me more and more. i stopped traveling with art in my car (i’m an artist and also move between houses, so i often have miscellaneous art). i thought it would mean that i would get robbed.

however, over time i started thinking about jacob. eventually, it got to the point where i was thinking about the dream often. i wouldn’t have art in my car, and if i did, i told myself it couldn’t be about to happen since i hadn’t talked to jacob.

fast forward to meeting the new guy. he was a perfect blend of characteristics that made him suitable to be liked by both of my parents. this was important to me. i saw him as fitting perfectly into my life and my family, and my circle of friends. i was ecstatic.

i had been wanting him to meet my friend nadia. i always introduce new boyfriends to her to get her approval. one night, i tell him we’re going over. i don’t make a big deal about it, it’s casual.

but he puts on jeans. i hadn’t yet seen him wear jeans. he always wore his work uniform, or basketball shorts. i thought it was cute that he wanted to dress up to meet my friend.

the night goes smoothly. we talk and hang out with nadia. she had just moved into the apartment upstairs in her building. i cuddled with him on the couch, with nadia on the other side. another boundary breaking thing, cuz i usually wouldn’t show affection like that in my friends home.

well, we had recently had a falling out with our friend zoe. when i got a new bed, zoe painted my old bed frame and nadia had it hanging above her tv. she said she didn’t want it anymore, and asked me to take it.

thankfully, i had my knight there to help me cuz it was heavy. he carried it to my car while i kept watch. it was dark, around midnight. nadia doesn’t live in the best part of town, and i always had to be cautious and look over my shoulder when leaving her place at night.

we get to my suv, and i open the back hatch. he lifts the painting up, and as he is putting it in the back, it hits me. the dream.

now, i’ve talked to my friends before about my dreams and how they predict the future. the caveat is that i don’t know when it will come true, and i don’t always know which dream.

often times it is just something trivial. like a specific image or detail, but i will run into that specific thing that day and realize i saw it in my dream the night before. or, at times i will have minutes go by and as things are unfolding around me, i realize i had dreamt it the night before. i saw what would happen that day.

i had actually told nadia about this specific dream with the artwork only days before. i was thinking about it so much at this point, but it was bothering me because i couldn’t make sense of it. and i wasn’t in contact with jacob and didn’t foresee that happening anytime soon.

so i run back upstairs and tell her that the dream is coming true. she doesn’t react as strongly as i would like. this is a very big deal to me. after all, i had seen this dream almost a year prior and it was constantly on my mind. it shaped how i acted. i was cautious about having art in my car, cuz i thought i would get robbed while i had art in my car.

i explain to the guy what had happened. how i had seen me and my ex jacob putting art into the back of my car at night time in a sketchy part of town. the reason it was jacob in the dream is because our brain cannot see someone who we haven’t met or seen before. i hadn’t yet met this guy, but i was falling madly in love with him just like i had been in love with jacob. so, jacob just took the visual role of a romantic partner in that dream.

as happy as i was, i became scared. i knew how the dream ended. since the dream had finally began coming true, i unfortunately knew how it ended. and end it did, loyal to the original plot and all.

the ride home, i am terrified. it’s late, and every stop light i am looking around, seeing if anybody is suddenly approaching. homeboy insists that the dream hadn’t come true, cuz he wasn’t jacob. i don’t know if that was rooted in jealousy or what. but it annoyed me. i know what i saw, i knew what had just happened.

over the next couple of weeks i was weary about driving at night. i was expecting to get robbed by a random person on the street. i remember the gun being silver, and i somehow decided i was in the passenger seat in the dream [wow. i’m just realizing this detail was in fact true after all]

so i drive everywhere instead of letting him, like i usually did.

now back to the spirits. i began to sense some issues. as i would lay in his bedroom, one night, i began to feel like extremely hazy. like i was in another dimension, and nothing made sense. it was not a good feeling. it was like there was fog all around his house, and i felt uneasy.

as i prayed to his dead ex like i did, i started to lose trust in what i was really praying to. the stable, reassuring spirit started to become strange. not making sense. acting weird. then, it seemed like it was making fun of me. laughing at me. i stopped trusting it, and became confused.

his ancestors also gave me less confidence. there was a particular spirit, a woman. i see her as short, with brown hair and glasses. she laughs at me. every. single. time. i pray about a decision to make, and all i get is laughter in return. i don’t like it, but i try to ignore it.

fast forward to the end of the relationship.

i wake up on the morning of my birthday, i wake him up to ask if he wants panera. he sounds irritated. his tone starts to escalate, like he is arguing. we hadn’t yet had an argument. whenever i date someone, i always wonder what our first argument will be. i couldn’t figure it out with him, since until this point we had so much emotional rapport.

as he keeps arguing, part of me is like wow. he’s really about to start a fight, our first fight, on my birthday. i don’t quite remember what happens next. i know he’s angry and i’m trying to leave, since nothing i say or do is calming him down. only making it worse.

i go downstairs, and i pray. his ancestors are telling me to get the fuck out of the house immediately. i don’t like this answer. it’s my birthday, and i’m so in love with this guy. part of me doesn’t believe he’ll ruin my birthday, and i don’t want to leave. so i go downstairs to his basement.

he follows, says something irate as he lets the dog out. at this point i just decide to leave. so i pick up a box, and he comes in the room. he’s yelling at me. i’ve never seen him like this, and i don’t think a partner has ever yelled at me like this before. especially over something i wasn’t even sure what it was. and i kept trying to make it better.

he comes over to me and smashes the box out of my hands and onto the floor. he is twice my size, so i begin for the front door. i don’t know what happens next cuz i black it out. but next thing i know i am in my car. he is chasing me, and smashes his hand on my windshield as i speed in reverse out the driveway.

i lay on my bed paralyzed that morning. the panera driver has to come to my grandmas after i explain my situation over a sob filled phone call.

later that day, he texts me. he’s hateful, saying so many insulting things. i have a humiliation kink, so when he starts saying things like faggot and little dick bottom, it turns me on. but the telling me to kill myself hurt.

long story short, i forgive him, even though i’m walking on egg shells around him cuz i’m still not sure what had actually happened. he had told me he had bpd. this must have been an episode. part of his argument was that i didn’t actually care about him, that i was constantly looking for an excuse to get away from him. which wasn’t at all true.

anyway, he ends up doing something evil on his birthday, and it turns into something even more intense. his ancestors told me not to go back to his house, but i did anyway. i was so in love with him, and desperate for connection over what i would learn was from a trauma bond we shared, and i felt like i was losing friends and my ex dennis so i really just needed this new guy.

well, the next episode is on his birthday a few days later. it ends with me having to drive frantically to my father, and he has to drive over to guy’s house with me sitting in the passenger seat. he had locked me out of the house, i had no phone or wallet or any of my belongings that had accumulated at his house. and i had work in an hour.

my dads friends come over and we are standing on his front porch. i had gotten most of my stuff back, except some money and personal belongings he took out of my bag. my dads friends want to get it back. next thing we know, we hear a bullet enter a chamber, and hear a gun cock behind the front door.

this was the end of the dream. not only was he the one who helped me put paintings in the back, but he was also the one with the gun.

• • • /synchronicity

now i am a very forgiving person, especially in love. call it toxic, naive, or foolish. maybe you’re right. but i also don’t care.

i still pursued this guy. after all, i was convinced his dead ex brought me to him. we had trauma bonded. we had amazing sex. he was perfect, and if he was willing to go to therapy and not be domestic abusive again, i didn’t see the problem. he was just showing me how physically strong he was lol hehe jk unless

but we never went back to how we were.

he never blew up at me like that again. the few times i would go over there were tame. though, he was now closed off to me. not friendly like he had been. wouldn’t kiss me. was mean.

after deciding one day that that was it, that i was moving on and completely forgetting about him —

the strangest thing happened. taco bell gave me a mountain dew.

/ / N U M B E R S

i often looked to triple numbers to make sense of the world around me. if i got it on a receipt, or looked at the clock and saw it — it was a reassurance that i was doing something right. however, there was one set of numbers that i saw a little too frequently. numbers i didn’t like, and every time i saw them, which was often, i would get unsettled.

those numbers were 911.

now if you are to comprehend my insistence that this relationship worked out, you need to understand how much i relied on seeing triple numbers, amongst other things, such as deja vu, to reassure me that i was treading smoothly in life.

however i often saw 9:11. i realized it about five or six years ago. i would look at the clock and it would be 9:11, a little more often than normal. then it happened often. sometimes multiple times in the same week. it frightened me.

but with my knight of the summer, i thought it all made sense. i was seeing 9:11 because he used to be a police officer. that was a reason i fell in love with him. i thought it was so sexy.

all those years of seeing 911 constantly, was just the universe telling me that my police officer was waiting for me.

i believed this wholeheartedly. i wouldn’t give up. if he was the one i loved & desired, literally lead to me from a ghost, with the universe telling me for years that he was waiting or me and i just didn’t know it. i thought he was the one. my soul mate. THE soulmate.

but it all came crashing down.

and i decided. after i had had enough, after weeks of trying to get back the man i knew before those two episodes. i finally had it. and made the mental decision to leave him the fuck alone and move on.

then i go to taco bell. i go multiple times a week, often using mobile app to order ahead. i love taco bell and anybody close to me knows that. and they almost never get my order wrong. sometimes they give me a different flavor tea if they are out of dragon paradise, but even that was rare.

so the day after i decide i give up on mr shadow of the summer. taco bell messes up my order, and gives me a large mountain dew.

his favorite soft drink.

you can imagine my fury. he drank mountain dew all the time. at this point, when i saw it, i thought of him. i don’t like the drink. i never drink it, ever. the last time i did i was probably 7 years old. but he drank it all the time.

and so now the day after i decide to give up and move on, taco bell, which never really messes up my order, all of a sudden hands me his favorite drink. i was fucking pissed.

i considered giving it back. going back and saying something. hey assholes, thanks for messing up my order and giving me my now ex’s favorite soft drink ? the day after i decide i no longer want to pursue him ? makes no sense. and i’m thirsty. so i drink the damn mountain dew. and i am so mad about it.

genuinely mad. genuinely mad that he was dangled right in front of me, then snatched away like that. so, i try to do the right thing and stay away from him. AND THEN THE MOUNTAIN DEW. are you kidding me!

well, that’s all i have for now. currently i am not in contact with him, but i have gone over a couple times since mountain dew incident. i drank that whole thing.

but i decided that the spirit who visited me was la santa muerte. i had a candle i bought in chicago, cuz i heard about santa muerte in a tv show. i assume santa muerte was showing me the dangers of the trauma bond that connected me and homeboy. that’s the only sense i can make from this.

also, i saw a guy who looked JUST like his dead ex on grindr. same hair color, facial shape and features. i ask if his name is ____ and he replies yes. so i go off thinking he lied about his ex dying. then the dude does a 180° and says that i have him confused with someone else. so either it’s a strange coincidence that someone is walking around with the same name and face as his ex, or he lied about that being his name. or i don’t even know what.

most people will probably just think i’m crazy. and i guess i am. but i experienced all of these things.

- november 2023