Literally don't.

It's been one helluva ride. Dependent Dirk Strider for rebelstuck || Run by Riley

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

Whenever you guys see Dad again, tell him to text me.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

@cutemoniic

Don’t think I don’t see you.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

I’m kinda not sure whether to wait here for Dad to come home or. Or go on a walk.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

There’s a notable presence in the household in which it used to lack, and there’s very light footsteps from behind the door... which shortly thereafter peeks open ever so slightly. There’s a brief moment of silence, before the door opens more, and the familiar lanky build of the teenager reveals itself, but it looks more weary and tired than before he left.

        “... I’m home.”

[thepiscesactor-deactivated20121]

Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.

[minotaursauce]

Of fucking course

What sick bastard doesn’t

[xaldien]

“You’d be surprised”, said Xaldien, who just lost four followers and received a lovely “men can’t be raped” anon shortly after reblogging this the first time.

[minotaursauce]

Yowch, disgusting.

[ladymeninists]

Gross.

[thatroxiegirl]

The number of notes on this gives me hope

[ilovepeppers-deactivated2019122]

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

==> Dirk: Leave a note for your dad ( and other family members ).

@ironicallyastar @holidayhijabi @fivefingerscience

Hey,

        Don’t get all uptight about this. I’ll be fine. And I’m not running away. I just need some time out of the house that isn’t school and I don’t want to do something that I’ll regret. I just... I’m sorry, I guess. Even if I promise not to get into any trouble, I’m going to anyways because that’s my luck. It’s just my luck that I’ll keep writing and writing and maybe not even leave the house and just, cry myself to sleep again tonight like I have the rest of the nights I haven’t come out of my room.

        You know, I’ve. Been contemplating death. And dying. But I just. I don’t know. I’m sorry. Fuc

==> The entire line is scratched out, but not enough to fully blur it.

        Please don’t take this as a personal offense. Just don’t. It’s not. I hate myself enough, don’t give me more reasons. ... That was bad, fuck

==> It’s scratched out more, but still not enough. ==> There are not-quite-dried tears on the edges of the paper.

        I’m sorry I just need to go for a while please don’t get upset over this please don’t it’s not like you’d miss me anyways I’m just a fucking inbred fuck as everyon esays I’m sorry I’ms orry,

==> The rest is scribbled out past recognition.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

Hey, guys. Sorry about the lack of activity but things are... I. I’ll explain under the cut? So you don’t have to see it on your dash if you don’t want to.

Recently, my dissociation and suicidal thoughts are reaching an all-time high, and since they occur at around the same times... it’s... it’s not good. All of my friends at school ( which are few and far between, actually ) are trying to keep me alive but lately it’s been getting harder and harder to think that anything will get better. It’s getting harder and harder to keep on smiling.

Not to mention that my family ( save my brother ) is deliberately misgendering me, even after I say that I want to be called this, or by these pronouns by saying things like “You’re our daughter and that’s how it’ll be” / “That’s not what’s on the birth certificate” and I’m already stressed out from people at my school bullying me and misgendering me and disrespecting who I am simply because of what I look like ( a very effeminate person, mind you ) and, even though a few people have been using my preferred pronouns and name, it’s getting to be too much.

Now, I know that I should talk to someone about it but, for me, that constitutes as a failure. Even if I am well aware that it’s not, I’ve been raised in an environment where even getting a ‘B’ ONCE is considering failing. It’s literally been bred into me; I’ve been BRED into involuntary perfectionist thoughts and it’s really not helping anything.

I’m really trying guys. I really am trying to stay alive for my friends and family, if not myself, but I’m already on the verge of crying typing this because you all know that I hate hate HATE stating my problems ( because of all the times I’ve been told that I don’t matter, etc. ) to those that I talk to.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

I don’t even want to be on here half the time lmao.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

I don’t know why I’m here eve.n

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

I love being around my peers. They’re Always Nice(TM).

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

I’m. I’m gonna go.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

Um.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

... What?

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

If ucking did it again..

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

... No one’s even on.

[secondhandpopularity-blog]

Right. I have a blog.