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Yet Another Cliche Story

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So this is really fucking stupid and I know it. I honestly don't know why I'm even bothering with this because there's really no point, but I guess I'm going to try for some fucking reason that I still don't understand. I'm probably way too fucking tired so my brain shut off and I'm making these stupid fucking decisions without actually permitting myself to. My sleep deprived self has decided that it's a good fucking idea to make my first post after using this site for the last couple years, so here we go I guess.

I need some help. Some serious fucking help. I'm a shitty person with a fuckton of problems but no one to unload them on. So I guess I need a free therapist who isn't going to sit there and fucking stare at me with that stupid fucking judgemental look in their eyes as they do, blatantly lying while saying they understand what I'm going through and scratching out a few words in those stupid fucking notes they take like there's going to be some sort of fucking pop quiz at the end of the day and they need to remember just how much of a fuck up I am despite all the fucking drugs they've told me to take so they can fix my stupid fucking brain. I need someone to be on my side for once. Someone I can rant to who won't get tired of it. Someone who I can talk to and not have to worry about them getting offended or angry or scared off just because they know who I am. Someone just as broken who might actually understand instead of just pity me. Someone who I can maybe help as much as they help me. Someone who can deal with me on my bad days and more than just puts up with me on the less shitty ones. I guess what I need so damn desperately that I'm typing out this stupid fucking note at three in the fucking morning is a friend.

Fuck, my mom would be fucking delirious in her happiness if she knew I was writing this up. ‘Good for you, honey, I'm so proud you're reaching out and trying to make friends.’ In that stupid fucking voice that's way too high pitched like she's praising a fucking toddler. So forced and fucking fake. I fucking hate that, all the fucking comments like she cares so damn much when she hasn't even fucking tried to actually help. Just wanting to keep up appearances while the perfect fucking family she's made falls apart from the inside out, unraveling in a way that can't be fixed.

Damn, this is such a stupid idea. I can tell even while I'm so fucking out of it. What the fuck ever, I guess I don't really care if this even fucking works or not. I don't really care what kind of person responds to this, if anyone's even does. I don't really give a fuck about anything at this point.

Posted - 4:20 PM 20 April 2017

Post by: fuckificare

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 9:47 AM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

I saw your post and decided to take a risk for once in my life and respond to it, but I wasn't really sure how to start it off without it being even more painfully terrible than it already is so I just made it into a sort of letter for some reason?

I'm not a qualified professional of any kind, I'm just a kid in high school with a bunch of issues, but I thought maybe we could help each other somehow?

You sounded like you need to get a lot of things out, like you need to do a lot of ranting, and I'm at least a decent listener. Not that being able to listen really helps in this situation because nobody’s actually talking, we're just typing back and forth, so I guess being a good reader is more important?

Sorry, I ramble a lot when I'm nervous and I'm really nervous because I don't begin conversations. Which I guess doesn't apply here because you started, but I could have just scrolled past and pretended not to see it and you would have never known I existed on here. None of this really matters, I'm probably just going to end up deleting all of this and pretending it never happened.

Sorry for wasting your time. Well I guess not really, because I'm going to delete this and not actually send it…

Sincerely, Me

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From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 10:28 AM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

I don't think you meant to actually send that message, but you did so now it's too late. I don't think it was too awkward, but I actually kinda like the idea of writing letters. Nobody really sends letters anymore, but it's kind of nice. At least this is faster because it's online.

Well, it's nice to meet you, I guess. Maybe, I don't know. You're the first person to respond to that stupid post, which isn't really surprising. It is kind of surprising anyone responded at all, though.

It's stupid, but I don't really want to just start bitching at you about my shitty fucking life. I mean… I guess that's kind of the reason you're even getting this message, but that seems kind of fucked up to me. If I just suddenly got a message from some freak online going on and on and on about their fucked up life I’d probably block them or some shit, you know?

I don't really know how to actually end a letter? I've never written one before and the way you ended yours was really kinda cheesy, and I'm not sure I'm all about that. I guess the letters are really fucking cheesy too. Fucking whatever.

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 10:38 AM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

I didn't actually mean to send that message, I meant to delete it but then I clicked the wrong thing..? That sounds like a really stupid excuse, but it's what happened! I didn't really think you would respond…

It's nice to meet you! Hopefully we can keep talking..?

I wouldn't have minded if you had just launched into an explanation of your life, if that's what you wanted to talk about.

If you want, you can do that now I guess? If you want! You definitely don't have to.

That sounded really stupid, huh?

I'm trying not to censor myself, otherwise I would spend three weeks typing and retyping a message, but everything I write just looks awkward and forced and stupid to me.

I'm sure more people will reply to your post, you should probably just block me now.

That will save you a whole lot of time and energy and anger. Because I'm really difficult to deal with.

Sorry, I’ll just stop now, I'm rambling again.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 10:42 AM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Don't worry about censoring yourself or whatever, we're both here to get over our problems. Just say what you think or feel, or fuck I dunno.

You want me to rant about my life?

Well fuck. Take a moment to get something to drink, go pop some fucking popcorn. Use the damn bathroom. This might take a while.

You good? Situated again? Good. Make sure you're comfortable.

So I'm a fuck up. Plain and fucking simple. I can never do anything right as far as my parents are concerned. I've never really got along with my dad, he's closer to my sister, but the last couple of years he's been even more of an asshole. He wants me to be this perfect fucking image of the son of the perfect fucking all American family or some shit. Do good in school, actually have some fucking friends, play fucking baseball or football or really any fucking sport. Stop having fucking mental health issues because apparently I can control how fucked up my head is. Get with the head cheerleader because being gay is unacceptable and fucking Christ what will the neighbors say? What will the family think? I'm not about to stop wearing the clothes I actually like and listening to music I actually fucking enjoy and stop reading and start working out and stop smoking just because he thinks that I'm a fuck up who needs to force himself into the cookie cutter image of the stereotypical male jock image.

My mom, she's better I guess, but not really. She thinks that doing anything other than getting high and reading will fix me and turn me into this perfect fucking image she wants me to be. For some fucking reason she thinks that all my fucking problems will disappear with the right diet, the right religion, the right something, so she goes through all these stupid fucking phases of being pescitarian or vegetarian or vegan or gluten free or what the fuck ever while also cycling through being Catholic or Buddhist or Jewish or who fucking knows at any given time. She treats me like a fucking three year old that might fucking explode at any given time. She's always too fucking nice in that way that's so fucking fake those stupid cheap plastic flowers look more genuine. Her voice always sounds way too fucking high pitched and strained and so full of that fake fucking concern. If anything, she's worried about what everyone else will think of the situation. Not what they'll think about me and what a fuck up I am, she's concerned about what they'll be saying about her and her inability to raise her own child into something that's less of a fuck up than I am.

My sister thinks that I've completely ruined her fucking life, which I guess is true, but she doesn't fucking care about me. Not anymore, anyways. When we were younger we were close. Really close. She was like my best friend. She's younger than me, but not by much and we used to be together all the time. She used to be on my side all the time and I'd stand up to any bullies that were bothering her and I'd braid her hair and sometimes even paint her nails and she actually thought I was a good brother. We would turn music on way too loud and dance like idiots together to make up if we got into fights or to drown out the noise if our parents were fighting. Our doors were always open when we weren't together so if the other one wanted something we could just run in and talk to each other. I haven't braided her hair in years, I haven't done her nails since before then, we haven't danced together in so long. Our doors are always shut and I'm always listening to my music loud enough that I can't hear her practicing her guitar or singing or whatever she fucking does now. Now she always sides with our dad. Whenever there's an argument, which is at least twice a day, she makes some stupid fucking underhanded comment about me or just agrees with everything my stupid fucking dad says.

I get that it's my fault. It's entirely my fault. I get angry too easily. I'm usually high. I'm just such a shitty person and class A fuck up. But I never start arguments with her. It's always because of something stupid that she says that for some fucking reason sets me off. Something that doesn't even really fucking matter. But at this point it's just become a habit to just yell and scream and fight and threaten and I've even fucking shoved her a few times. She hates me so fucking much now. I can't just fucking apologize now so I just keep on pushing her away. Keep on yelling and screaming at her.

My parents are shit, but with my sister I know that it's my fault. I'm the one who pushed her away. The one that ruined everything for her. I was the one that fucked up badly enough that she can't even stand to be in the same room as me. She's always glaring and I can't even fucking blame her because I know that I did it. I'm the reason she's like that.

It's just an entire fucked up situation and I'm just tired of it. I'm sick of dealing with my shitty parents who only care about image. I'm done with trying to fix anything with my sister because each time I've tried it's just blown up in my face.

I'm sick of going to school only for people to flinch away from me just because I walked past them a bit to close, because I glanced in their general fucking direction. Of having to deal with all the stupid whispering behind my back. I don't really care about rumors, most of them are shit anyways, but I get sick of hearing my name. Tired of knowing that it's only pushing my sister farther away. Done with all of the stupid fucking anger I feel and snapping for stupid fucking reasons that wouldn't even bother anyone else. Sick of feeling so much that I have to smoke to get rid of it and sick of smoking and never knowing what the fuck is going on.

Shit.

That got really long and really fucking personal.

Sorry about that.

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 12:29 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

Thank you for sharing all of that with me.

I don't really know how to respond to it all, I'm not a professional.

That sounds really crappy.

I can't really say I get it. I mean, I don't smoke drugs or anything like that, I'm not really an angry person either. I don't have any siblings, unless you count the half siblings I've never met.

My dad left when I was young and my mom… She's not really ever around. She's always working or at class, so I don't really see her much. She treats me like a baby when I do, though. I don't… I don't have friends. At all. No one notices me. I don't think they even really realize that I exist. I mean there is this one kid who talks to me, but he doesn't want to. His parents literally pay him to hang out with me every once in a while because his mom is friends with mine. And he reminds me of that each time we talk.

I'm not really good at actually interacting with people. This isn't as bad because I'm not stuttering over every word and messing up pronunciation and saying the wrong thing and I don't have to actually see you, or anyone, and it doesn't get to me as much. Clearly I'm still a mess, but it's so much worse in person. Or on the phone. So I never really talk. Not unless I have to. And it gets to my mom.

Every time she's around and asks about school and I give her the same answer I can see the disappointment and frustration. She never says anything about it. She's always saying that she's so proud of me for trying and that she loves me so much but I can see that she doesn't think I'm trying hard enough, that I'm not doing better fast enough, I can see the annoyance each time I mess up or stumble over my words when she asks me to do something.

Sorry. I kind of took over there. We weren't talking about me and you probably don't even care and god, I'm the worst…

I think that it's very clear that you really care about your sister. It obviously hurts you that you're not as close as you used to be. Maybe start small..? You say that you drown out the world with your music? Maybe try playing a song that she likes? Or a song that you used to dance to with her..? That might help her remember the good times..? And I don't know. That was a stupid suggestion, forget it. Yeah, just start small, go slow, work your way up to that relationship you used to have. Let her know you want it back and that you're trying.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 2:14 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

I don't think it was shitty advice or a bad idea. That actually makes sense and I'm a fucking idiot for not thinking of it sooner. My sister's over at a friend's house right now, but I guess I'll try when she gets back.

I don't mind you talking about your shit, you know? That's the point of this. I'm sorry you have shitty parents too, and that people are such assholes that they don't notice you. That's some bullshit. At least it's better than being talked about all the fucking time for something that never even fucking happened though, right? I don't know.

I'm kind of shit at making people feel better. I haven't done it in a while. All I've done is make people hate me.

Don't push yourself. Don't think too much about what you're saying, or what you're trying to say. Try not to care about fucking up, it might help to calm you down a bit and make it a bit better.

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 3:48 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

What you're saying makes sense. It does. It common sense. But it's not that simple for me. I overthink everything. Everything. Even my breathing. Where my eyes are. What my tongue is doing inside my mouth where people can't even see it.

I know that people don't really care that much, I know that. But I can't help it. Which makes everything even more stupid and frustrating. I know I'm thinking too much. I know I'm overreacting, but I can't just be normal because my tongue gets all tangled up and my brain doesn't process that I've already said that word twice now or it can't even put the words into the right order and now I look stupid and I'm just bothering whoever I'm talking to and I can't cry because that would make me look even more stupid and pathetic and then I can't breathe because my head made me forget how to do that too. It's just… It's stupid and I can't help it.

I'm glad I could help with your sister, I guess. Is she back yet? Wait that sounded weird and creepy. You don't have to tell me. Sorry.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 4:17 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

It wasn't weird and creepy. Not really, anyways. I get why you were asking. She's not back yet. It's a weekend so she's staying with a friend. Probably won't be back until sometime late tomorrow.

Sorry, again. I'm really fucking bad at advice. Like, I am utter shit at it. I probably just made shit worse, huh? Made you feel like your struggles were fucking nothing. They're not. I'm just a fucking nightmare.

Apparently I'm also shit at apologies… Sorry…

It's not stupid. If you struggle with something like that, it's not your fault and it's not because you're stupid, or some shit like that. It's just because your brain decided to hate you for some stupid fucking reason and decided to not be programmed the same way as everyone else's. But it's not your fault.

Okay? So just take deep breaths or something.

Something that does calm you down.

What helps when you're panicking..?

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 5:32 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

No, it's okay. It's not your fault I suck at existing or anything. I just… I'm breathing. I'm okay. Not panicking.

Usually I go on walks? That sounds kind of stupid. I just… I like trees? That sounds even more stupid. There's a couple of parks nearby where I live so I just go there, walk around a bit. Maybe climb some trees. I don't really like being near people, so I go somewhere that isn't really poplar. Or if I'm at school, I guess I'll go to the nurse. She's nice and let's me stay in there for a while. If it's really bad, I just go home early.

My therapist gave me a print out of a bunch of different coping mechanisms, but they don't really help?

Yeah. What about you?

You said you get really angry? Do you try to ‘take deep, calming breaths’? Sorry. It's not really my business.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 8:19 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

You apologize too fucking much. You know that? You can ask whatever you want without thinking you've gone too far. If you have I'll fucking tell you, okay?

My mom tells me that I need to fucking breathe all the time, ‘ten deep breaths before you lash out, sweetie' my dad tells me I need to stop smoking because it makes me angrier and that I need to stop ‘being so violent all the time just because you want attention. All it's going to do is get you kicked out of school and tossed in jail like the lowlife you are’. Deep breaths only really help when I'm not so fucking angry I forget about them though, which is really all the time.

I get what you're saying though. Thanks for trying to help.

When it gets to be too fucking much I go to this old abandoned orchard I use to go to back when everything was okay. Or I'll smoke. That helps to numb everything. Makes it all go hazy and the anger fades. Just a little bit, but it's better than nothing.

I keep a rubber band on my wrist and sometimes I'll snap that to get my focus on something that isn't anger. That kind of helps.

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 9:36 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

I'm sorry that your parents don't seem to know how to help. And sorry I apologize so much.

I just don't really know how to talk to people? The only people I talk to really are my mom and that one family friend I mentioned, so.

I haven't tried the rubber band thing. It was on that sheet of coping skills, but I was worried about what if it snapped? What if I tried and it hurt too much? What if it cut off my circulation because it was too tight or I lost it because it was too loose? What if what if what if. So I didn't bother with it.

That's good that it helps you, though. And that you have somewhere to go where you can relax.

I've been seeing my therapist for a few years now and I still can't really look at him. I take a few different pills to help with my anxiety and depression, but it doesn't really help. But I can't say that because what if my medication is changed? Or the dosage is upped? We don't really have the money for that. So it makes me more worried. And you probably don't care about this, either. Sorry for rambling again.

Sorry for apologizing.

Sorry.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 10:16 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Stop assuming I'm going to be bothered if you tell me shit. Really. I get that we just started talking, but if it actually fucking annoys me I'll say something.

Fuck.

Sorry. I'm an asshole. My dad is an ass and I'm in a bad fucking mood. Apparently my therapy is fucking useless and not worth the fucking money and all of the fucking pills that I haven't been taking because they don't help and they just make me sick are gonna get me addicted and I'm gonna graduate from a stoner to a pill popper to a meth head to shooting up in a fucking Alley with a dirty needle to ODing and dying.

I've been diagnosed with severe depression, BPD, slight anxiety, insomnia, and ODD. Which I think is a bunch of bullshit. And so does my dad. He thinks that I'm just acting out to be an asshole who wants to destroy his perfect fucking family. I think that the therapist is just saying what he thinks my parents want to hear.

I'm supposed to take lithium, xanax, temazepam, and Zoloft. My mom has also been been making me take vitamin d and melatonin. None of it fucking helps and I'm sick of it.

I think it's bullshit that he's refusing to let me go to therapy and refusing to buy my meds, but I don't care that much. It wasn't helping anyway and I was getting sick of it.  Sick of knowing that my stupid fucking therapist would say that it's all confidential only to go ahead and report every fucking word I say to my fucking parents.

Okay. Rant done. I think. Fuck this is stupid.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 11:31 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

I can kind of get that. I don't think my therapist knows what patient confidentiality means either. Every time I say something to him, my mom seems to find out and takes the day off just to make sure I'm okay, which is annoying, honestly. I'm fine on my own and all she does is hover around nervously which just makes the anxiety worse.

I'm sorry you're suddenly getting pulled from therapy and your medications… I hope it doesn't backlash too much. Even if you weren't really taking your pills, just knowing that they're suddenly unavailable if you feel like you need them is probably going to be rough.

I've had my prescriptions and doses changed around, but once I started taking pills I have never not taken them. It's such a normal part of my life that I'm not sure what I would do if I no longer had to, you know?

Wait. That sounds weird, doesn't it? Almost like I got addicted. I didn't. Really. I just have to take them. That still kind of sounds like something an addict would say. I just. You know?

I'm stopping myself before I embarrass myself further.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 11:46 PM 22 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Don't worry. You don't sound like an addict or anything, I know what you mean.

It doesn't really fucking matter to me that my pills are gonna be trashed. My dad just pisses me off so fucking bad all the damn time, it's more the situation and the fact that he thinks that I'm such a fuck up that I'm not even worth the therapy that my mom insists will help me.

Alright, I'm fucking done with this conversation. If I talk about it anymore I’m going to fucking explode.

You said you're a high schooler, right? What grade are you in? I'm a junior.

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 7:42 AM 23 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

Sorry… It was getting late and I fell asleep. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to push you into talking about something if you didn't want to. I get that you don't want to, entirely. Sorry, I just keep drawing this out.

Yes, I'm in high school! I'm also a junior! What are those chances? Pretty slim. Or maybe not..? I'm not entirely sure.

Well, I get back home around 3:40 so I probably won't reply until then. That is if you respond before that. That was kind of assumptive. Sorry.

Sorry for apologizing so much again. I still haven't taken my pills. I should probably do that now.

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 8:27 AM 23 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Just because you notice that you’ve apologized a lot doesn’t mean that you have to apologize for apologizing, okay?

Just… Don’t apologize for being yourself. I think you’re fine the way you are, so just be you.

It’s really obvious that I’m not really a pep talk kind of person, isn’t it?

This is my first attempt.

 I bombed it, didn’t I?

Sincerely, Me

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From: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

To: fuckificare

Sent: 3:47 PM 23 April 2017

Dear, fuckificare

Alright...I’ll try to stop apologizing so much… It’s kind of an unending struggle for me, but I’ll really try.

How was your day today?

Mine was pretty average…

Sincerely, Me

Chapter Text

From: fuckificare

To: BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

Sent: 3:56 PM 23 April 2017

Dear, BirchYouWeren’tExpectingATreePun

My day was pretty normal too. Nothing much to report. I skipped most of my classes, like usual, and I might have broken some guy’s nose after school.

Totally on accident.

What about you? What’s your definition of a normal day?

Also. Your username is kinda long. Do you mind if I just call you Birch?

Sincerely, Me