happy birthday nearly a month late!

extremely belated birthday gift for kaykie @sensitivefrog my babie xoxoxox

i love u so much sorry i am such a hectic forgetful dumpster fire jadlfjalsjdf you are so soft and special and it has been such a joy to be a part of ur life (despite being so far) and all of ur little joys and wonders!!!! here is a rosie in celebration of another year of ur beautiful life! wishing u all the perfectly cooked pasta and the very best frog princes the world has to offer xoxoxoxoxo

muppeteyes1001  asked:

“Happy birthday!” :3 (Sure, we can do a different thread if you want!)

(Roxanne can’t help but snicker at her friend’s declaration. It’s nearly a month late, but,,,, It’s still nice to hear even if it’s way late. Her smile has a bittersweet twinge to it as she looks at the striped tabby in front of her.  She leans against the door sill. It’s clear that Roxanne was troubled by something, her expression not as cheerful as it usually is.)

“Thank you, Kitt. It means a lot.”

I miss.

On May 17th, 2014 I was asked to leave home by my mother, at age 17. Her exact words were “I can’t stand to be around you anymore, I wish you’d just leave and never come back, I hate you.”

So I did just that. I left. That second I packed my things up and I left home. I was fortunate enough to have such a wonderful best friend and her family to take me in, and I’ve been living with them on and off ever since.

I waited there, at my friends house for 2 weeks, waiting for a call from my only living parent, to tell me that she made a mistake in what she said, and that she wished I’d come home. 

That call never came.

At the end of 2 weeks, the the counselor had to begin the paperwork for me to be classified as a homeless student, and It was made mandatory for me to see my doctor and therapist once a week. In those sessions, everything spilled out, about the toxic environment that I had been left to live in for the past 4+ years, and the abuse held at my brothers hand.

Without a word, my doctor contacted my school counselor and a report was made off of the “confidentiality” between mine and his discussion.

Social Services became involved.

My mother fell under the assumption that my friend’s mother and I had filled the report against her, and has refused to talk to me for 3+ months.

In that time period she missed: My high-school graduation, My 18th birthday, my first tattoo, my first club experience, and I’ve also had to do the entire forms needed to go to college by myself.

I’ve received zero phone calls, texts, letters, emails, etc.

My sister lived in an abusive relationship for nearly 2 decades of her life. Finally, this past year she left her husband and is currently with a man who she’s compatible and happy with. For the past 6+ months up until my living at my friend’s house, she lived in with me, my brother and my mother. And I had never had a better friend. We’d stay up late and watch movies, We’d help each other with their hair, talk about relationships and life, and we were best friends. We had a strong relationship before, but the past 6 months with her, our relationship bloomed, and I felt the emotional connection with her that I’d always wanted to feel between me and my mother, I guess that’s why I took her “betrayal” harder than my mother’s. We had grown so close that even her eldest son was jealous, and I had been there and helped her through her entire separation, including holding her when she cried, and having long discussions about life. 

However, regardless of how much I was there for her, regardless of how I had put her in front of my own recovery and life, Her and my mother have thrown their backs to me over their twisted minds assuming that I “betrayed” the family.

My mother was and always will be my super-hero. She is the strongest woman alive, and has overcome many adversities in her lifetime, including the loss of her soul-mate and my father. However, When I came out of the closet at the age of 15, I basically ceased to exist to her. I went from being her Opinionated, Intelligent, Artistic Son… to simply her “Queer Son” and too this day I don’t think she can see past that. Now don;t get me wrong, we had some good times, We’d watch The Golden Girls, and Will & Grace together, go shopping occasionally, I even eventually got her into some floral pants, which never in a million years I though she’d ever do. We’d vent to one another, and we would yell and fight… But we were never really the same. 

And I suppose that takes me to my main point: After my dad’s death, and my coming-out, I just didn’t seem important to her anymore. The last thing she ever got me that had any kind of thought put into it was a St. Christopher necklace that I received my freshman year during Christmas, 6 months before I came out. After that time period my brother’s drinking became rampant and along with her being emotionally absent from me because of my father’s death, and with my being gay, she simply couldn’t muster the strength to care about her now 15 year old son in this hostile environment. 

The aggression, and the abuse from my brother lasted for years. It was never too serious, however too much for a child to handle. His drinking would often mix with his medications and he’d be left nearly comatose. And I can remember everytime I’d try and help him he’d push me away, and in one instance broke my necklace off of my neck and spat in my face. He’d even once been in such a fit that he threw a cup across the room and gave me a black eye with it. However, nothing was ever done. Mom would sit down after every instance and reprimand him, but It was never an issue. No matter how many times I tried to say “help, this is too much.” I was never taken seriously.

You see, my mother was a “live-in” nurse for an elderly man in his late eighties, and was absent from our house-hold 5 days out of the week. In the span of close to a year It was simply me and him… and then… me and him and my sister. She witnessed his attitude and how aggressive he got towards me while drinks first hand, and even experienced it herself, yet still to this day believes that I am in the wrong… 

Even though I didn’t do anything… That every action taken was done by my school with zero control, she continues to feed herself and my mother lies, and I’ve finally deducted why:

My family lives in a lie simply because they cannot function normally. It’s easy for one person to be blamed for a certain circumstance, however when it boils down to it, we are all components of the world’s most dysfunctional family. If they can hide from their problems long enough, (example: my mother’s emotional absence, and my sister’s not leaving her abusive relationship until nearly 20 years) They disappear.

Which we all know is not the case.

I am the victim in the situation, I was an underaged child who needed help not only with a brother with a substance abuse problem, but with my depression, and clinically diagnosed eating disorder.

Nothing was ever established on that note either. I begged for two years for my mother to get me help for my depression… I had school counselors call her, I sat down and talked with her… however… nothing seemed to work. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that I was depressed over my father’s death at age 12. She didn’t care that I needed her acceptance when I came out of the closet. She didn’t care that I self-Harmed. She didn’t care that I wanted to kill myself, and tried.

She didn’t care. I told her that I wanted to die. And I was met with the following response: “Well… you have to make your own life worth living.” And that was the end of the discussion… Ironically being said by someone who her herself takes depression medication for.

None of my problems were ever taken seriously. I was seen as mean, as a brat, as a bitch… 

When in reality I had to fend for myself, and that is why I hardened. Because nothing ever mattered enough for her. And nothing ever will.

I have lost my father, and now my mother and sister as well.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss them. I fantasize of a winter’s day with us all home with the snow falling outside, a fire stoked in the stove, my sister on her computer, my brother re-reading his copy of “The Lord of the Rings” for the 10 billionth time, and my mother getting lost in her soap operas. I miss the way that I could have someone to cry to when I felt really bad, and I miss being able to jump into bed with my mom at night if the depression and loneliness was too much. I miss me and my brother bonding every sunday morning over watching the recorded animes on our DVR and I miss silly enough me and him going out to get wood for the fire. I miss those weekends where mom would take me to Wal-Mart just to get me to shut up when in reality I begged to go to town just so I could feel close to her. I miss my brother promising me he’d never get drunk again, and me believing him every single time, only to be disappointed that night, and I miss mine and my sister’s walks up and down our driveway, I miss us ranting over which actor is hotter and I miss being able to feel like I mattered to someone. I miss being the person my sister confides in and I miss the obnoxious chipper tone of my mother waking me up in the morning, I miss waking up and being able to walk into the living room where everyone was at and without anyone saying a word, me being able to sit down and feel like I belonged somewhere. I miss my mother asking me If I will ever grow up for playing pokemon, and I miss her constantly coming into my room and asking If I am watching “cartoons” when I am indeed watching “anime” XD

I miss every friday night at 11:59 pm when I could see her head lights coming up the drive-way from work, and me rushing out to help her with her bags. I miss kissing our inside-dog Bella too much that she growls non-stop and everyone yells at me. I miss the taste of my mother’s cooking and I miss the way it feels when they hugged me.

I miss being able to get done with one of my paintings and my mother give me her thumbs up of approval. And I miss how, at the end, when I stopped saying I love you as much to my mom…

She noticed…

And started saying it first.

6

I honestly can’t believe I forgot your birthday when I’ve asked you twice when it was. 

Happy belated birthday, to one of the best people I’ve ever had the luck to meet on here, she also happens to be one of the best blogs on tumblr, my beautiful Mila (zaynharry).
Not everyone has the luck to get to know your beautiful heart and kind nature, but somehow I was that lucky.
I’ll always be grateful for everything you’ve done, for all the support you’ve given me for the past few months, you are one of the people who kept me going and I’ll never thank you enough for that.
I love you so so much, you’re the Pooh to my Piglet. 

p.s. I’m so thankful for your Zayn gifs, thank you for blessing us with your sick photoshop skills. 


. “We will be friends until forever, just you wait and see.“- Winnie the Pooh