That leaves me with an hour of free time, so I think I’ll use it to write on my blog!
The strangest thing happened yesterday.
I’m going to try to keep this part short, as it would require a superfluous amount of backstory for a payoff that probably wouldn’t be worth the effort.
What you need to know in order to fully understand the situation is that I have a cousin named Austin. He’s like 25-ish? Yeah, I don’t know exactly how old he is, but you get the point. Anyway, he’s my stepdad’s nephew, so take our relationship how you will.
Austin used to live in Chris’ (my stepdad’s) house; he lived in the first room to the left down the hallway when my mom and I first moved in like… 8 years ago? At the time, Austin was a high school dropout with no job or ambition who would stay awake until 4 A.M. or later playing video games every night. For that reason (among many others), Austin was kicked out of the house.
Starting last year, Austin moved back into Chris’ house, and, instead of taking his old room, took my old room instead. While in all actuality, I couldn’t care less, many memories (along with some of the best blog posts) were made in that room. I don’t know—I guess I’m just a sentimental person. But we’re getting off-track.
There are two things I need to mention about Austin for this to make more sense. The first it that Austin has had the same girlfriend for many years. She was pretty old, too. I think she was like in her mid to late thirties? Well, that’s not *old*, but it is for him. Maybe she was in her forties—I don’t remember. The other thing is that he’s got some mental issues. They’re not all that bad, but he’s hecka autistic. Like, literally.
Sometime last week (or the week before), Austin’s girlfriend broke up with him. He was so distraught to hear this news that his immediate reaction was “I need to guilt trip her into taking me back.” I’m sure that wasn’t the only factor; he was definitely in a fair amount of pain, which is completely understandable.
So, he takes a razorblade to his wrist, and goes vertically down to his elbow, leaving something of a humungous laceration down his left arm. He then proceeds to send the picture of his wound to his girlfriend with the caption, “Bleeding out.” Assumingly, he did this with the intention of dying, but he had a change of heart (thanks, phantom thieves), and ran into the living room where my mother and stepfather were sitting. The EMS got his wound stitched, and he got committed to a mental health facility.
Well, he just got released recently. I think it was yesterday, actually. You know what’s even cooler and edgier than subjecting your girlfriend to a disgusting image of a bloody, festering arm? Why, posting it on Facebook for attention, of course.
But he posted it to my Facebook instead…
But here’s one last thing (it’s the last, I promise) I forgot to mention—When I got my new iPhone, we had the old one still on the line. Instead of cancelling the old line, Chris just figured he give that phone to Austin. That said, he clearly didn’t factory reset the phone, as my Facebook account details were directly associated with the phone still.
And so, as I studied with my buddy Robert (for the very same French exam, in thirty minutes) yesterday, I received a barrage of messages from all of my friends. They were confused and upset.
“Jacob, you know I love you, but why did you post that photo,” Lauren asked me. My stomach sank.
“Photo? What photo?” I was nervous, but I awaited the response.
“Your arm…,” she replied.
At this moment, I navigated to my Facebook timeline and noticed the picture. I knew exactly what it was the moment I saw it. I deleted it, and quickly tried to cover it up. Austin posted the picture of his bleeding arm, and I knew it was his because I’d heard about it just the week before.
Some of you have heard that part of the story, but none of you have heard this part.
So basically, I told my mom about the situation. She lives in the same house as Austin, so I thought she’d have some insight on this.
She admitted that he’s been released, and that he had gone batshit crazy. The doctors prescribed him double the dose of his benzos (which were, in-part, responsible for his psychotic breakdown. It’s called Klonopin, and it’s extremely potent and addictive. Well, he took the entire bottle last night, trying to kill himself undoubtedly. When Chris found out, he intended to call the EMS, but Austin said that he would KILL the EMS if they tried to come near him.
Chris, having exhausted all of his options in the moment conceded, and said, “Well, go ahead and die then.”
Frankly, I’m worried about the safety of both Chris and my Mom. But that’s pretty fucked up, right? I think it’s best that Austin doesn’t live in the house with them anymore. The last thing I heard was that Austin, today, has agreed to get psychological treatment. And while I acknowledge that people can change, I can’t help but prepare for the scenario in which he does not.
Okay, so I thought I was gonna tell the whole story in a brief couple of paragraphs, but you guys know how I am. I guess this post is about that xD
Buttttttt the thing that I ACTUALLY wanted to talk about was the fact that I really want to get into making props for cosplay. You know, like crafts. I think it would be super rad to make an Evoker that looked real! I saw some stuff online, and I’d like to do it at least once. I’ve always had a deep admiration for those who could do that kind of thing, so I thought that I might take a crack at it for a change.
Anyway, that’s it.
later
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