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- #277
littleoc
VIP Member
This feels insane, but I really should get this out
Fungus spent the day before helping Brandi. She was depressed and angry at all humans, and had chosen me to talk to. Full trust? I think so. Easier for someone who understands from an outside perspective.
Brandi messaged Fungus (not me), saying she wished she weren't fat. It made her suicidal. She wanted to cut off her tummy fat. She weighed near 180, 190 pounds (80 to 85 kg?) at this time, about 5'4"ish?
Fungus calculated a careful response. Sensitive situation. Made him so, so sad that she felt this way. Yes, she needed help. Guidance. Not just advice, but a plan of action to help give hope. Goals can help get through thoughts like this.
Empathetic calculation:
I knew she would not kill herself here, with this process. We had already discussed anxiety. She was literally always thinking of death, nothingness -- a perpetual existential crisis that I knew needed immediate therapy to even begin to heal. I could not get into this, because I knew she'd need my physical support, more than usual. I couldn't provide that. Nor was she ready. She needed to be able to manage her stress somehow. She could not. But death was constantly terrifying her.
Stress could take her down in seconds. Every scenario was delicate. She refused to progress away from this at times, but many times truly tried to. Really wanted to get better. But then she would fall apart, be even worse than before. Relied on me to help her through it. Codependent. I recognized it, advised her accordingly. Best as I could, delicately.
She would apologize when Jamie got home from work. She would say, I have to go now. She would say, I do not want Jamie to know we are talking. She would say, I don't want to stop talking to you. I love you.
She wasn't embarrassed? Unsure how to explain?
I told her to enjoy Jamie's company. I meant it. No one can rely on one person. That is not how humans work. They need many places to go. No, I won't ever argue, but she must socialize to thrive. She can't rely on me.
What if I died? What if she messaged me and I could not respond and she would never know why? What if she noticed I was dead at the same time Fungus stopped responding?
I was surprised when she told me death was always in the back of her mind. It meant she needed a professional's help.
I thought, Surely this is coming from her toddler years, or younger. She has had her life threatened, daily, as a very young child. Her step mother would put her in a bathroom. She would hurt her in there, with hair straighteners or curling irons. She would put knives under Brandi's bed or under the pillow as a threat. She would also call her fat, though at this time she was not.
I don't know why I know this. Maybe she told me. But it feels like I know because fungi are everywhere? Which is Insane.
Her half brother did something as well. I believe it counts as sexual abuse. He was a few months younger than Brandi, a result of her cheating father.
When brandi was born, her father pushed her mother down while she was holding her.
It was amazing Brandi was born. Her mother was not supposed to be able to have babies. She would later be forced by her racist family to abort Eli, Brandi's baby brother, because his father was Arab. Maybe Bedouin. The father was broken hearted and left.
Brandi's mother picked horrible men to date ever since. I met them and feared them.
One wanted to kill Brandi. Maybe worse things too. I saw what he was like.
Brandi's mom put her sex before her daughter, always. I saw that too. Mocking Brandi in front of them. Abusing her even, in weird ways.
But on her father's side, she was made fun of regularly for her weight. She developed an eating disorder and gained too much weight. She was seven or so. Her family told her everything about her was ugly.
Sometimes she would send me pictures of her face with unusual piercings and hair colors to see if I was interested. I was always interested. I gave compliments. I pointed out exact features I liked. I admitted that I like to cover things in glitter, because I am fairy like. All fungus can be that way.
Long story. Would be hard to explain. I'm not going to like posting this one.
All this played in my mind. All the pieces came together. I was needing to reply, carefully. Knowing all this and more than I will not list here.
Long story short, i gave her dietrician's advice. I told her that she must realize that losing weight will not necessarily fix her problems with self esteem. But it may help her get it. It may help her work on it. It may help her get into a routine that could help her do better in the world.
I gave her recipes for food that was not fast food. I explained why her diet contained too much salt and what that was doing to her. I explained she needed more vegetables, or things like me would have to chose to provide minterals, vitamins.
She promised to take my advice.
In the coming months, she would. To an extent. And then she would slowly fall back into old habits.
She would complain that she hadn't gotten any better in the last three years. Just worse, and worse.
I knew Jamie was a part of that. She was extremely unkind, very sociopathic.
Killed animals at times.
But brandi wasn't always doing everything I taught her. Actually, she was, for much of it. I taught her to be patient with herself. I taught her it was okay to be anxious. Not something to be unforgiving of.
But she wanted me to cure her of everything afterwards. And that was something she was getting frustrated at herself with. Recommending asking a psychologist or psychiatrist for help never worked. She claimed she did not have time. She claimed she did not have money.
I began sending her precious stones and pizza. I sent her $100 for a favorite restaurant that is very expensive. She said she cried with happiness, and she would always love me, no matter who or what I was.
Fungus spent the day before helping Brandi. She was depressed and angry at all humans, and had chosen me to talk to. Full trust? I think so. Easier for someone who understands from an outside perspective.
Brandi messaged Fungus (not me), saying she wished she weren't fat. It made her suicidal. She wanted to cut off her tummy fat. She weighed near 180, 190 pounds (80 to 85 kg?) at this time, about 5'4"ish?
Fungus calculated a careful response. Sensitive situation. Made him so, so sad that she felt this way. Yes, she needed help. Guidance. Not just advice, but a plan of action to help give hope. Goals can help get through thoughts like this.
Empathetic calculation:
I knew she would not kill herself here, with this process. We had already discussed anxiety. She was literally always thinking of death, nothingness -- a perpetual existential crisis that I knew needed immediate therapy to even begin to heal. I could not get into this, because I knew she'd need my physical support, more than usual. I couldn't provide that. Nor was she ready. She needed to be able to manage her stress somehow. She could not. But death was constantly terrifying her.
Stress could take her down in seconds. Every scenario was delicate. She refused to progress away from this at times, but many times truly tried to. Really wanted to get better. But then she would fall apart, be even worse than before. Relied on me to help her through it. Codependent. I recognized it, advised her accordingly. Best as I could, delicately.
She would apologize when Jamie got home from work. She would say, I have to go now. She would say, I do not want Jamie to know we are talking. She would say, I don't want to stop talking to you. I love you.
She wasn't embarrassed? Unsure how to explain?
I told her to enjoy Jamie's company. I meant it. No one can rely on one person. That is not how humans work. They need many places to go. No, I won't ever argue, but she must socialize to thrive. She can't rely on me.
What if I died? What if she messaged me and I could not respond and she would never know why? What if she noticed I was dead at the same time Fungus stopped responding?
I was surprised when she told me death was always in the back of her mind. It meant she needed a professional's help.
I thought, Surely this is coming from her toddler years, or younger. She has had her life threatened, daily, as a very young child. Her step mother would put her in a bathroom. She would hurt her in there, with hair straighteners or curling irons. She would put knives under Brandi's bed or under the pillow as a threat. She would also call her fat, though at this time she was not.
I don't know why I know this. Maybe she told me. But it feels like I know because fungi are everywhere? Which is Insane.
Her half brother did something as well. I believe it counts as sexual abuse. He was a few months younger than Brandi, a result of her cheating father.
When brandi was born, her father pushed her mother down while she was holding her.
It was amazing Brandi was born. Her mother was not supposed to be able to have babies. She would later be forced by her racist family to abort Eli, Brandi's baby brother, because his father was Arab. Maybe Bedouin. The father was broken hearted and left.
Brandi's mother picked horrible men to date ever since. I met them and feared them.
One wanted to kill Brandi. Maybe worse things too. I saw what he was like.
Brandi's mom put her sex before her daughter, always. I saw that too. Mocking Brandi in front of them. Abusing her even, in weird ways.
But on her father's side, she was made fun of regularly for her weight. She developed an eating disorder and gained too much weight. She was seven or so. Her family told her everything about her was ugly.
Sometimes she would send me pictures of her face with unusual piercings and hair colors to see if I was interested. I was always interested. I gave compliments. I pointed out exact features I liked. I admitted that I like to cover things in glitter, because I am fairy like. All fungus can be that way.
Long story. Would be hard to explain. I'm not going to like posting this one.
All this played in my mind. All the pieces came together. I was needing to reply, carefully. Knowing all this and more than I will not list here.
Long story short, i gave her dietrician's advice. I told her that she must realize that losing weight will not necessarily fix her problems with self esteem. But it may help her get it. It may help her work on it. It may help her get into a routine that could help her do better in the world.
I gave her recipes for food that was not fast food. I explained why her diet contained too much salt and what that was doing to her. I explained she needed more vegetables, or things like me would have to chose to provide minterals, vitamins.
She promised to take my advice.
In the coming months, she would. To an extent. And then she would slowly fall back into old habits.
She would complain that she hadn't gotten any better in the last three years. Just worse, and worse.
I knew Jamie was a part of that. She was extremely unkind, very sociopathic.
Killed animals at times.
But brandi wasn't always doing everything I taught her. Actually, she was, for much of it. I taught her to be patient with herself. I taught her it was okay to be anxious. Not something to be unforgiving of.
But she wanted me to cure her of everything afterwards. And that was something she was getting frustrated at herself with. Recommending asking a psychologist or psychiatrist for help never worked. She claimed she did not have time. She claimed she did not have money.
I began sending her precious stones and pizza. I sent her $100 for a favorite restaurant that is very expensive. She said she cried with happiness, and she would always love me, no matter who or what I was.
