Me on my brothers

It’s weird being a big sister. Especially when you know that you’re the only big sister your younger siblings look up to.  I’ve actually learned so much from my younger brothers.  Probably more than I have from the older ones.  

Let me say that I have 3 older brothers and 2 younger, one whose autistic, and amazing.. Jesse, He’s an amazing kid. He’s idolized me in every way, down to the way he dresses, yet he’ll never admit it.  His Led Zeppelin tee’s aside, he’s my pride and joy.  Every time I talk to this kid I’m amazed. He’s the funniest 19 year old I know.

I know what you might be thinking, how can an autistic boy be so darn hilarious?  Well, since Jesse was a baby I’ve always treated him like he was any of my other brothers, because why wouldn’t I?  And y’know what?  Jesse graduated from high school this year, and I couldn’t be prouder.  He overcame all odds and dealt with the idiots at Woodruff High School long enough to get his diploma, and he left there with loyal friends.  All because he was funny, and true to himself, like a true Kasson. 

Toby, my youngest brother is complicated.  He’s a funny, sweet kid, but he’s also why I’ve been listening to The Frays “how to save a life” on repeat for the last 20 minutes (it’s his favorite song, and I’m trying to get into his head from thousands of miles away).  He’s a young musician.  And he’s brilliant. Honest.  

Toby is angry and insecure, for good reason.  His bad childhood was different from mine and the one I’ve shielded Halle and Jesse from .  His was dictated by his angry father, who I knew well, and I reacted just like my brother did for me, I did the best that I could.  

Toby was taken away at age 2 for stupid reasons (his “aunt’ called social services because he had poison ivy).  I remember walking him to the car that would ruin his life forever.  I’ve never actually gotten over that moment, as it was one of the defining moments of my youth, selfishly, but Toby hasn’t forgotten it either.  

He has stubbornly bounced back from all the anger he was holding and centered that energy into music, which he excels at.  He may be one of the most talented young musicians I’ve ever heard… but he plays things like The Fray.. which isn’t bad, just depressing. 

Anyway, I’m so proud of these little guys.  I’ve watched them grow up, and I’ve listened to their problems, and I was a great older sister.. and I’m glad to call those young men my family.  I would die and kill for them, and they always know they can come to their big sister for anything.  

My only regret is that I can’t be there for them as they reach their milestones.  So this is for Jesse and Toby.  I love and miss you guys so much.  Can’t wait to see you :)  

 

From an addicts perspective

I never realized I had a problem until about a week ago, when I lost two days of my life.  I woke up on Wednesday afternoon confused about what had happened days before.  I was mixing up days and events in my head.  I couldn’t remember if I went to a bar the previous night or the night before last, or if I had sat at the beach, reliving my childhood in my head over and over, two days ago or ten hours ago.  I was so confused, crying, reliving my drunken mistakes and throwing blame at myself like knives.  

What I do know is that my body was doing things I wouldn’t ever do, but wanted to.  That’s the weird thing about being  black-out, your brain has checked out, and it’s just your body and subconscious living your dream, which always ends up as a nightmare.. fancy that.  

I could remember bits and pieces of arguments and conversations.  I could remember me watching my feet move, but I have no clue where they were moving to.  I have phone records, but no memory of conversation.  It’s hard for me to look at, because I can only imagine what my “id” said to the people I care most about.  

I never knew it was a problem until recently, but I should have been able to read the signs.  But the funny thing about addiction is that you will invent the stupidest reasons to continue on with your affliction.  You’ll take minuscule events from your past that you would have never thought about, and turn it into a reason to drink, shoot up, smoke, whatever.  Anything to remind yourself that you’re still who you are, when, in fact, you’re losing every fiber that used to be you to a substance.  

However, no one realizes how easy it is to sink into that pit, how lonely it is.  The longer you’re there, the lonelier you are, and then BAM, you’ve lost 3 days of your life, and probably more that you’ve purposely forgotten.  It’s easy to fall into downward spirals of alcohol and depression, but it’s so difficult to drag yourself back out.  

Y’know, I’m 24 years old and, sometimes, honestly, I think that makes me smarter than younger people. It’s a weird superior god complex that I may or may not have created myself, but every time someone says “Yeah, I’m 19” I automatically see them as me at 19, and oh god was that the worst year of my life.

 It’s hard for me to meet people in the middle, or see people as individuals, which is obviously how they deserve to be seen.  I always used to think of myself as an objective individual, and I’m beginning to realize more and more that that’s not the case.  In fact I might not be objective at all (obviously, see paragraph 1).

 I live mostly in the moment, and my feelings are constantly changing, I’m constantly changing with my feelings.  How is it possible for me to keep up with how I view myself and how I ACTUALLY  view other people?  More on the fact “do I dictate how I see people or do other peoples perceptions of me dictate how I see people?”  

Of course upon a first meeting of someone I’m judging you from what I already know, but is that fair?  Maybe I haven’t seen enough of the world to ACTUALLY know you, but yet I know you haven’t seen enough to actually know me, and that’s okay with me.  
  
Maybe we’re all just trying to get to know ourselves, and while that’s happening we crash into different people.  Maybe that’s obvious, and maybe I’m just trying to figure it all out.  

Tags: life

Yesterday a 17 year female, who attends Lancaster High School in California, was beaten by a football player, on school grounds, for being gay. After receiving over a dozen blows to her jaw, head, eye and head, all he received was a 5 day suspension by the Lancaster School District. She suffered from a fractured jaw and multiple concussions to the head and the Deputy Sheriff advised her mother to re-think her wanting to file charges against the football player because her daughter pushed him back. The school ended up documenting “assault” charges on the victims school file, NOT the football players!!! To make things worse, the Deputy Sheriff warned the victim, by saying, “Just so you know, if you file charges against him, I’m taking his side.” We’re attempting to raise awareness and bring this story to light because Lancaster High School is trying to sweep this “Hate Crime” under the rug!

notxlikexdad:

giantpeepeemonster:

Reblog if you care and please forward to everyone you know. P.S. CBS, KCAL 9 news are running the story tomorrow at 10pm.

SIGNAL BOOSTING THIS SHIT

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captainstormwind:

the truth is out there.

Oh god. I’m dying. 

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Tyrion Lannister Week - Day 6 - Favorite Scene

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jenari:

wildcherrycarrie:

apricotica:

Perfect.

Sad I get this. So sad.

HAHA If by “sad” you mean “awesome”, then yes!

jenari:

wildcherrycarrie:

apricotica:

Perfect.

Sad I get this. So sad.

HAHA If by “sad” you mean “awesome”, then yes!

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(Source: brittanas)

wherethecedarslinetheroad-deact said: You're so fucking weird, Tina. I love you.

I prefer to think of myself as charmingly awkward, but I love you, too :)  

Tags: lol im dying

reversingyourpolarity:

Anxiety is like perpetually hearing the boss/enemy music but never seeing the threat.

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