The whumpee maybe fears vulnerability, fears what will be done to them while they are defenseless. They brush off an injury because they’ve had worse, no matter how bad the current injury is. They don’t mention that they have a broken rib because they can treat it themselves. They don’t speak up when rations are being handed out, even though they haven’t eaten in days. The whumpee doesn’t say a word about being poisoned. The soft “Oh,” of surprise that falls from their lips before they fall to the ground. The hand to the open wound, staring in dull amazement at the crimson on their palms. They know they’re already a burden, so they figure what’s the difference if they’re more overt about being useless right now? Or maybe they don’t trust that their caretaker(s) mean it when they say they care, so whumpee is trying to find the limit of this scary, unfamiliar care and concern. They know that their caretaker(s) would rather not deal with them, but they don’t feel well and really don’t want to be left alone and if that means playing up a cold to force people to interact with them, then so be it. Because it’s the only time they feel like anyone cares about them. Because the resident hardass is nice to them even when they’re a nuisance. Because it’s the only time anyone pays any attention to them. They complain about everything and anything they can.Īnd why does Whumpee react like this? A few reasons, maybe. No, they aren’t going to drink it, the smell is turning their stomach. They want a shower, to pee, help them walk. Expect everyone to complain about how bad a patient Whumpee is and silently draw straws about who has to deal with their nonsense this time. It’s the end of the world, it hurts so badly, we’re gonna have to amputate oh god tell my partner I love them.Įvery sniffle is the plague. Pay no mind to the fact I ain’t written much of anything for my obligations. Garbage can have little a shirking, as a treat. Look half a month unpaid OT entitles me to some goofing. And by today I mean I’ll be typing this up between working and waiting for reports to run. You'll wait for her and love her.Īnd you're left crying to yourself, surrounded by signs of "I l0ve y0uu"'s from your little girl in an unfamiliar beautiful place making the situation feel laughably tragic.We are going to talk about injury reactions today and group dynamics. You beg her to stay, you need her to stay.Īnd you cry out after her when she leaves.Īnd you promise her, no matter what. So you run after her, begging her to let you hold her (After finally learning how to hold someone close with love and care that a father could give). (It's your birthday and father's day, the irony too painful to even rationalize.) She's running around with that hyperactivity you know. It's your birthday, and you are finally closing the hole in your heart. ![]() (It's like you were made to care for the little eggs). You're connecting with your nephew and niece and it's perfect. Your birthday comes around and you are happy, you're having fun. But these little eggs make you soft and kind, and the people are patient and nice, so you start to heal. They don't understand, and they don't try to understand what you've been through (God Knows you don't want them to live what you lived), but they're kind.Īnd the hole in your heart starts healing. ![]() You never learn to be yourself around others. A parasite that everyone seems to love more than you.Īnd you never learn to cope healthily. You cope by living vicariously through a parasite. The hole in your heart doesn't seem to close. Where is yours that you tried so hard to bring back. ![]() You see these new people gain children, and you are left to wonder where is yours. (Only two of them know, and one is 6ft underwater and the other has learned to cope and move on). They don't understand what it's like to lose a child. None of them knew her like you did (ten days aren't enough time to know anyone for that matter). It's been over a hundred days, and new people have come to the island. She's died just when you promised her and yourself to be better. Imagine you're Charlie, your daughter has been dead for over a hundred days.
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