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Alright. I should be able to write about this year without tears. Wow, where to begin even...
The year 2022 found me with my family. As always, the change of the year was not even the least "normal" for a Greek family like mine, since we are always loud when we gather up.
We find ourselves gathered around a big table, in my grandparents' house and have the very best food that one could wish for. Roasted meat with potatoes, lamb, and beef, some sort of chicken dish, this year was grilled chicken breast and thighs with rice, salads, and of course, straight from the traditions held still in the Mani Penninsula, rolled dough pieces that were deep fried in olive oil, called Lalagia. Some were made to be a cross-design to signify the birth of Christ, eaten only by the male members of the family, and accompanied by other accouterments, like greek-produced gruyere cheese, feta cheese, and cured meat. My grandpa laying in bed because his sickness not allowing him to get up even for a moment, he had been getting worse by the end of spring 2021. But we all managed to gather around with him, my parents, me and my brother, my uncle, aunt, cousins, and their significant others and children.
We all had fun, told stories, laughed, and even had some time to be together again. Not that we weren't together the rest of the days, we were occasionally visited by them or we visited them. But it was nice to have that kind of scene.
January 2022 and February 2022 passed like water down the waterfall. Loud, angry, and very much stressful. These months were hard for me, my psychology was failing to lift back up, I was unemployed, in my final year of university, and I was feeling like something was happening, deep and unrecognized by anybody else. During the period those months, I was experiencing what I could only describe as it warning from the universe, since I had not been in the best places mentally, I would always dream about people I lost, people too old in my life, people that were meant to go at one point. I was even dreaming of myself losing my previous jobs.
My best friend had told me it was because I was pressured within my home. I needed to find a way to live alone, leave my house and try and stick to my own goals because in life you are only well if you can make it yourself. You can only care about others, when you are ok with yourself being where it is at, at that moment. And I knew that while talking with her, with anyone that guided me, I was not okay.
I would cry every night that I wasn't with my boyfriend, cry myself to sleep to try and take out that much asphyxiating, throat-clenching feeling off my chest. I recall that time and I now realize that I was acting like how I would act back when I was younger. around 12, 13, 14 to 17. I had been that emo/scene kid, the one who would listen to bands Bullet for my Valentine, Pierce the Veil, Sleeping with Sirens, Black veil Brides, and many many more... Slowly transitioning into much harder stuff and deeper music. I had that same pain in my chest, the pain I felt through those years after finding out my father had abandoned us for someone else.
Along came March, the most dreadful month of the 9 months timeline, where it slowed down. Every day was torture for me. I was not able to afford myself going out, my boyfriend would pay for most of my things and it would end up in a fight because I never asked or wanted him to do this, I felt as if I was the punching bag that everyone used, the ball that one family would throw to the other to blame. I had failed one class out of 7 during the February examination period, I was a wreck about that, and while Monday, 28th of March was my and John's (aka my boyfriend's) 10th month anniversary, we couldn't celebrate it like we wanted to. He was working, while I was at the university for my very last semester's course starting, ad so we had agreed that the Saturday of that week we would celebrate it as we wanted it to. And so we waited it out, spending Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off and to our schedules, with me, finally opening up to my best friends about the burden I have been carrying, the wretched feeling about my grandpa passing away sooner than expected on Wednesday, 30th of March. Who could have known that I was only a messenger...
Now, to understand the story, I must say that I lived with my maternal grandparents in a two-story building, connected by a large set of marble stairs. Imagine a spiral of stairs but only once, which connected two houses.
On the morning of 31st of March, when I went downstairs to say good morning to my grandma, my cousin who had come to visit us and bring some food for my grandpa and his pills, and to my grandpa, to see how he was doing. Sure, One would wonder how could he still be alive when he was taking 14 pills a day, but… that's the thing… he had been doing it 40 years ago since he was 43. I didn't sit for long because it was the only day in my schedule where I could be home ad do some much-needed house chores but I had told my grandma I would be down at around 6 for some afternoon coffee with her. I was just about to start to do the chores when all of a sudden there was a scream from my grandma. A scream bone-chilling, calling my grandpa's name. Immediately, I shot up, and run downstairs as quickly as possible… And my instincts, all along, had been right, I had come face to face with my grandpa, yellow, pale as death, not breathing, eyes closed like he was sleeping. There were no tears. No… Emotion ran through me at that moment, only autopilot. I run outside, called my dad, and he came downstairs immediately, trying to resuscitate, and get the pulse going back to my grandpa's chest. He was gone… He was now passing on to the afterlife, while we on earth, called my cousin who had left just 10 minutes before the occurrence.
My only regret is that my mom and my uncle never got to say goodbye to their father, and be with him while he passed. Perhaps he had planned it, but they still mourned for that day. My mom came about 40 minutes after I called her, in tears but calm. She was only trying not to cry because she knew. She had talked about that happening the previous day with a friend of hers who works in the funeral home of the small area I live in, so she took this as kind of an omen.
The next days were hard for all of us, psychologically, we all tried to make the best of the times we had, to talk about grandpa, where I heard stories I was never told before. From April, and up until June, we were all post-death coping, me focusing solely on myself and John, ignoring everything around me, and trying to find a job. I got deep into roleplaying as well, trying to find people that would like to roleplay storylines with gruesome details, plots drenched in pain and sorrow, surrounding them with loss or love based on tragic events. All in an attempt to express my inner pain and sadness, to have an outlet of sorts.
I finally broke around the period of 2nd of July. I just burst into tears, crying my eyes out with my brother, and trying to let out all the pain I had collected. Just to say, I didn't cry at the funeral or the memorial of both of my grandfathers, I just vented. I needed to let it all out, and I did. Then, the very next day, I got myself back on track. My health is to be checked, and my diet plan t changed. Soon enough I found myself a job right next to my house! A local coffee shop, run by a friend, has now become something of a home that has given me hope and balance. It got me back to my feet. And so I spent my summertime working, living alone for the full month of August, and enjoying my life as an independent young woman, now looking for something greater, and perhaps the last chapter of my scholar years: my diploma in Hospitality Management.
To close this, I found out in the last few months that it all happens for a reason. This site was suggested to me for a reason. I have met some people here who are good and genuine, and I have found I can lean on and talk to them without having to worry much about being abandoned, betrayed, frowned upon, or .... Mocked, backstabbed. I feel welcomed here and I wanted to review it as the best site for someone to come and roleplay, meet people, and talk to others via the Internet. I would like to say to my future self who one day just mind find this post and read it back. It's okay to cry, but remember that you have been the strongest person you have come to meet, through all of the 23 years of your life. You are the only person you can trust, at the end of the day, to push you through every mental or physical obstacle that was been thrown at you.
Alright. I should be able to write about this year without tears. Wow, where to begin even...
The year 2022 found me with my family. As always, the change of the year was not even the least "normal" for a Greek family like mine, since we are always loud when we gather up.
We find ourselves gathered around a big table, in my grandparents' house and have the very best food that one could wish for. Roasted meat with potatoes, lamb, and beef, some sort of chicken dish, this year was grilled chicken breast and thighs with rice, salads, and of course, straight from the traditions held still in the Mani Penninsula, rolled dough pieces that were deep fried in olive oil, called Lalagia. Some were made to be a cross-design to signify the birth of Christ, eaten only by the male members of the family, and accompanied by other accouterments, like greek-produced gruyere cheese, feta cheese, and cured meat. My grandpa laying in bed because his sickness not allowing him to get up even for a moment, he had been getting worse by the end of spring 2021. But we all managed to gather around with him, my parents, me and my brother, my uncle, aunt, cousins, and their significant others and children.
We all had fun, told stories, laughed, and even had some time to be together again. Not that we weren't together the rest of the days, we were occasionally visited by them or we visited them. But it was nice to have that kind of scene.
January 2022 and February 2022 passed like water down the waterfall. Loud, angry, and very much stressful. These months were hard for me, my psychology was failing to lift back up, I was unemployed, in my final year of university, and I was feeling like something was happening, deep and unrecognized by anybody else. During the period those months, I was experiencing what I could only describe as it warning from the universe, since I had not been in the best places mentally, I would always dream about people I lost, people too old in my life, people that were meant to go at one point. I was even dreaming of myself losing my previous jobs.
My best friend had told me it was because I was pressured within my home. I needed to find a way to live alone, leave my house and try and stick to my own goals because in life you are only well if you can make it yourself. You can only care about others, when you are ok with yourself being where it is at, at that moment. And I knew that while talking with her, with anyone that guided me, I was not okay.
I would cry every night that I wasn't with my boyfriend, cry myself to sleep to try and take out that much asphyxiating, throat-clenching feeling off my chest. I recall that time and I now realize that I was acting like how I would act back when I was younger. around 12, 13, 14 to 17. I had been that emo/scene kid, the one who would listen to bands Bullet for my Valentine, Pierce the Veil, Sleeping with Sirens, Black veil Brides, and many many more... Slowly transitioning into much harder stuff and deeper music. I had that same pain in my chest, the pain I felt through those years after finding out my father had abandoned us for someone else.
Along came March, the most dreadful month of the 9 months timeline, where it slowed down. Every day was torture for me. I was not able to afford myself going out, my boyfriend would pay for most of my things and it would end up in a fight because I never asked or wanted him to do this, I felt as if I was the punching bag that everyone used, the ball that one family would throw to the other to blame. I had failed one class out of 7 during the February examination period, I was a wreck about that, and while Monday, 28th of March was my and John's (aka my boyfriend's) 10th month anniversary, we couldn't celebrate it like we wanted to. He was working, while I was at the university for my very last semester's course starting, ad so we had agreed that the Saturday of that week we would celebrate it as we wanted it to. And so we waited it out, spending Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off and to our schedules, with me, finally opening up to my best friends about the burden I have been carrying, the wretched feeling about my grandpa passing away sooner than expected on Wednesday, 30th of March. Who could have known that I was only a messenger...
Now, to understand the story, I must say that I lived with my maternal grandparents in a two-story building, connected by a large set of marble stairs. Imagine a spiral of stairs but only once, which connected two houses.
On the morning of 31st of March, when I went downstairs to say good morning to my grandma, my cousin who had come to visit us and bring some food for my grandpa and his pills, and to my grandpa, to see how he was doing. Sure, One would wonder how could he still be alive when he was taking 14 pills a day, but… that's the thing… he had been doing it 40 years ago since he was 43. I didn't sit for long because it was the only day in my schedule where I could be home ad do some much-needed house chores but I had told my grandma I would be down at around 6 for some afternoon coffee with her. I was just about to start to do the chores when all of a sudden there was a scream from my grandma. A scream bone-chilling, calling my grandpa's name. Immediately, I shot up, and run downstairs as quickly as possible… And my instincts, all along, had been right, I had come face to face with my grandpa, yellow, pale as death, not breathing, eyes closed like he was sleeping. There were no tears. No… Emotion ran through me at that moment, only autopilot. I run outside, called my dad, and he came downstairs immediately, trying to resuscitate, and get the pulse going back to my grandpa's chest. He was gone… He was now passing on to the afterlife, while we on earth, called my cousin who had left just 10 minutes before the occurrence.
My only regret is that my mom and my uncle never got to say goodbye to their father, and be with him while he passed. Perhaps he had planned it, but they still mourned for that day. My mom came about 40 minutes after I called her, in tears but calm. She was only trying not to cry because she knew. She had talked about that happening the previous day with a friend of hers who works in the funeral home of the small area I live in, so she took this as kind of an omen.
The next days were hard for all of us, psychologically, we all tried to make the best of the times we had, to talk about grandpa, where I heard stories I was never told before. From April, and up until June, we were all post-death coping, me focusing solely on myself and John, ignoring everything around me, and trying to find a job. I got deep into roleplaying as well, trying to find people that would like to roleplay storylines with gruesome details, plots drenched in pain and sorrow, surrounding them with loss or love based on tragic events. All in an attempt to express my inner pain and sadness, to have an outlet of sorts.
I finally broke around the period of 2nd of July. I just burst into tears, crying my eyes out with my brother, and trying to let out all the pain I had collected. Just to say, I didn't cry at the funeral or the memorial of both of my grandfathers, I just vented. I needed to let it all out, and I did. Then, the very next day, I got myself back on track. My health is to be checked, and my diet plan t changed. Soon enough I found myself a job right next to my house! A local coffee shop, run by a friend, has now become something of a home that has given me hope and balance. It got me back to my feet. And so I spent my summertime working, living alone for the full month of August, and enjoying my life as an independent young woman, now looking for something greater, and perhaps the last chapter of my scholar years: my diploma in Hospitality Management.
To close this, I found out in the last few months that it all happens for a reason. This site was suggested to me for a reason. I have met some people here who are good and genuine, and I have found I can lean on and talk to them without having to worry much about being abandoned, betrayed, frowned upon, or .... Mocked, backstabbed. I feel welcomed here and I wanted to review it as the best site for someone to come and roleplay, meet people, and talk to others via the Internet. I would like to say to my future self who one day just mind find this post and read it back. It's okay to cry, but remember that you have been the strongest person you have come to meet, through all of the 23 years of your life. You are the only person you can trust, at the end of the day, to push you through every mental or physical obstacle that was been thrown at you.