LionBUff Posted June 23, 2020 Share Posted June 23, 2020 I was unsure if this was fitting for this site but to be completely honest, I'm only posting it because someone may need to hear it. It has a good ending, and is 100% true. DOC version: https://docs.google.com/document/d/.....it?usp=sharing Audio: Survival Story BY: LionBUff There’s no easy way to start a story like this. This is not my normal “gay furry males being gay furry males” story. I will probably write those again soon, but first, this story. This story is 100% true. This story is about my real-life triumph over depression. This story is about my real-life triumph over anxiety. This story is about my real-life triumph over bipolar mood swings that were so out of control I could never predict my mood in 5 minutes. This story is about my real-life triumph over crippling nightmares. This story is about my real-life triumph. This story is about my survival. It all started when my mom discovered a pain in her lower stomach. She assumed that she pulled a muscle or tendon deep inside of her while cooking and ignored it. A month later, she told us that the pain was so bad that when she ate a dead squirrel when she was a child as a dare the raging food poisoning that resulted was nothing compared to this. We rushed my mom to the ER. She told us that when the doctor inspected the area she pointed out that the doctor’s eyes went cold when he touched the spot. The doctor said there was a massive growth in her stomach and that it could be cancer. When my mom started crying the doctor said it only COULD be cancer and that it COULD also be something else that isn’t cancer. The doctor said that for now all she knew was that it was a lump that was growing against her stomach. The doctor said they wouldn't know until they could perform surgery to remove and investigate it. She scheduled that surgery and was prescribed pain killers to help her wait for the surgery which was weeks away. During those weeks we all felt the anxiety of not knowing what would happen. I distracted myself by writing stories to keep myself in the perfect worlds I had created in my head. The stories got my eyes off of my potentially dying mother and torn family long enough to not have a mental breakdown on a daily bases. These stories became my only consistent safe haven so I refused to leave them. I spent all day typing away about perfect worlds. When I wasn’t typing about the heavenly visions in my head, I was sleeping time away. Sleeping took me to dream realms where my mom was as healthy as ever. Sadly, as the day of surgery and the moment of truth drew near, these dreams turned into nightmares of my mom's funeral on a nightly basis. These re-occurring dreams always ended with me driving my own car to the funeral because it would allow my dad to take family members in his car when in reality I would drive to the interstate my mom’s hearse would be driving on and jump out in front of the hearse as a symbolic way to die next to my mom and immediately find her in the afterlife. These nightmares happened until surgery day. Surgery day happened and my dad, around 2 PM, called while I was in bed coming up with the next fantasy I would spend my life typing about. My dad said the lump wasn’t cancer but an odd internal growth common in older people. My dad was celebrating through tears of joy as he told me my mom was just waking up and already acting more alive than ever. He said the drugs were probably a major reason for my mom’s enthusiasm but he didn’t care. A few days after my mom came back home showing signs of feeling better than she’s felt in months I decided to make up my schoolwork. I’m sure most can imagine how hard it was for me to take school seriously during all of this. When I told my teachers what had happened, they all were as ugly as could be and said they either didn’t believe me, didn’t understand why I couldn’t just do school work during all of this, or just said they’ve been through worse and had no problem doing their work. This sparked more anxiety because it was already too late to drop out without failing. Thankfully, this isn’t the end of my story. I went to the head leaders of the school and told them everything. I told them about my mom, my anxiety, and my teachers' harsh lack of caring. Now, as I type this, it has been taken care of. My mom is home laughing and smiling more each hour than she did in a week's time. My teachers have taken back what they said and I’m back on track. Looking back at it, I now realize why I truly made it through. Those stories were all about furries. Regardless of their rating, both G and R, they were about anthro animals. Despite how weird these anthro animals were and how weird their actions in my stories were, people accepted them. They also started accepting me for the weird sad boi I was. They saw me as more than a sad boi with more sadness in each wrinkle on my sleepless face than most funerals combined. They only saw me as one of them. Furries gave me an escape. They lifted me up. As I grow up and mature, I have no doubt that there is no situation or episode in my life that furries won't be there to cuddle me through. Without the fluffballs I have met, I might just be a red blob on a hearse right now. 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
RecoveringLearner Posted June 25, 2020 Share Posted June 25, 2020 Thank you for sharing this. So glad your mother's on the mend after such a scare. Your teachers should all be ashamed of themselves. Keep writing, and revel in life! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jtchef2 Posted July 4, 2020 Share Posted July 4, 2020 Thank you for sharing this with all of us. We all have our own demons/troubles. It's nice to know that we are not alone. Stay strong Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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