#and being at work around a triggering co worker just started a new spiral

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Having a mental breakdown at work while smiling and teaching 😄

[phoenix-knight]

K-DRAMA REVIEW: Hell is Other People

“Hell is Other People” is the most recent K-Drama I chose to add to my binge watch marathon list which never seems to exhaust itself. I had heard a lot about this drama and raving reviews on how good it is, but I knew that I was in for a treat because it’s Lee Dong Wook as a serial killer. What could be more fun than that? I suppose I also had confidence in the storyline because it was adapted from a Webtoon. (Disclaimer: This is a spoiler review)Lee Dong Wook, as in the role of Seo Moon Jo.I think this series is testament to how humans being social creatures doesn’t always work to our advantage. The main lead is an unsuspecting lad, Yoon Jong-Woo who has recently moved to Seoul for work and to be closer to his girlfriend. I think everyone starts out rooting for him to make it. He has the struggles of poverty rubbed in his face quite literally. He’s furious at injustices or taunts, but you can see the wheels turning in his head as he slowly buries his thoughts each they flare up.He moves into the cheapest apartment he could find, one that is called a “Goshiwon” in Korea. Goshiwons are matchbox rooms with barely enough space for a bed and table, much less space to breathe. This one, particular, is the most dark, damp and unhygienic place you could imagine called – Eden Goshiwon. A laughably ironic name for a place that would become the origin of the main lead’s spiral into madness and chaos. Hell is other people. Available on Netflix.

Eom Bok-Soon is the inconspicuous looking landlady who greets everyone with a smile, which you can tell is just like a mask plastered onto a face to hide what’s underneath. Seo Moon-Jo is Lee Dong Wook’s acting at its finest, in my opinion. Because he made my skin crawl. The Twins too, we’ll call them Twin 1 and 2 from now on, were an interesting dynamic. The Pervert provided a foundation for the story, by becoming the first person Jong-Woo hates for his porn addiction and blank stares. Everything about the place feels off to Jong-Woo, however he cannot help but stay because of his financial conditions. It’s frustrating to see Jong-Woo being gaslighted by the whole world with the words, “Come on, it can’t be that bad. If it’s driving you crazy, why don’t you move out or better yet, just ignore them…?", when we already know that his suspicions are 100% right. The residents of Eden are all in on the murder and disposal of whichever new resident moves in. You either join them, or you die. Better yet, your teeth will be pulled out one by one as you are strapped to a chair screaming for it to stop, while Moon-jo smiles and tells you it’s all gonna be over soon. The teeth are then fashioned into rings and bracelets like trophy trinkets and prized possessions.People keep disappearing in and around the Goshiwon. Jong-Woo is driven to the edge by paranoia. His room being broken into every night, seeing Moon-jo or Eom Bok-Soon follow him everywhere he goes.

The side characters deepen Jong-Woo’s resentment and anger. The older college senior who is his boss, hiring him as an intern but secretly making advances on Jong-Woo’s girlfriend. His girlfriend being unaware of the boss’s feelings but still unintentionally gaslighting Jong-Woo’s concerns and fears about the Goshiwon. The jealous male co-worker who can’t stand Jong-Woo getting attention from the female colleague he has a crush on. He constantly pokes Jong-Woo saying,“I know that behind your friendly demeanor, you are hiding something. And I’m the only one who can see it for what it is. You cannot fool me" I cannot help but feel for Jong-Woo. He is misunderstood, gaslighted and mocked by the world while he suffers from nightmares every night he sleeps in the Goshiwon in the midst of suspicious happenings and people that make his skin crawl. He has terrifying memories of his military enlistment which come back and trigger him.However as the drama progresses, we peel back the layers. Jong-Woo’s righteous and honest nature makes way to reveal his compulsive habits, repressed rage and judgemental vigilante attitude when it comes to people he doesn’t approve of. In one particular flashback, we discover that during his enlistment, he was the one who beat his subordinate half to death with a brick because the subordinate used to kill cats as a hobby. After things calmed down, he grit his teeth and whispered,“I should’ve killed him".

The irony here is astounding, with the revelation that his submissive demeanour is only a thin veneer to hide the murderous thoughts and short temper which become a wildfire the moment something spark it. The Goshiwon and its residents unwittingly did just that – Light the match. Moon-jo who knew exactly what he was doing and saying, to incite Jong-Woo and make him his “true self”. In a suspenseful edge-of-the-seat climax, Jong-woo attempts a rescue suicide mission when Moon-jo abducts his girlfriend to lure Jong-Woo back to the Goshiwon. From the very first, we see Moon-jo constantly saying “You and I are one of the same kind” and referring to Jong-Woo as “Honey", like an endearing nickname you call your partner. And the fight scenes between Moon-jo and Jong-Woo, seem like a last dance as Moon-jo smiles like he has achieved his wildest dreams…while Jong-Woo charges at him more maniacally than the serial-killer himself in the situation.

I think anyone would assume the natural thing and think that the first version of events we see is the most plausible version. Eom Bok-Soon kills the pervert for playing with “her things” who were locked in the basement, Moon-jo kills the residents and the landlady, then ensues the climactic fight scenes until his death at Jong-Woo’s hand. The police comes in when the ambitious wide-eyed patrol officer who was the only one who believed Jong-Woo, is locked in the basement with another victim and manages to call for help after Eom Bok-soon kills the pervert. At least, that is certainly what we are led to believe, even though there isn’t complete certainty about the events because Jong-Woo is the only one who can attest to everything that happened.Suffice to say, there is a huge sigh of relief when the Goshiwon and the murders or disappearances surrounding it are blown wide open by the police. Jong-Woo is protected by law because it was self-defence and he spends his time at the hospital releasing a breath he has been holding for what seems like ages. It’s exhilarating to see all of it finally coming to an end, after being on edge for 16 episodes. It’s a win for everyone except the dead bodies… until you get hit in the face with a curveball of a twist.

The patrol officer’s stricken face when she finally remembers where she had heard the jingle of the teeth-adorned bracelet that Jong-Woo is still wearing on his wrist while laying on the hospital bed, exactly mirrored mine. My jaw almost fell to the floor. She recognizes the jingle as being the same one she had heard while lying barely conscious on the basement floor, right at the same time when the pervert was supposedly killed by Eom Bok-Soon. She walks out of the hospital in a daze, grasping at mental straws. Anything that might make sense out of what she just discovered. She believed she was the only one who had opened their eyes to the happenings at the Goshiwon, the only one who wanted to help Jong-Woo, only to discover that she had been sleeping the whole time, unaware of the very person in front of her.

I looked on in shock as a new version of events started playing, one where Jong-Woo takes Moon-Jo’s offer of sparing his girlfriend if he kills everyone else at the Goshiwon. The version where it is Jong-Woo doing all the killing with the maniacal smile of someone who enjoys blood. Bashing the pervert’s head in with a wench, slitting the Twin’s and Moon-jo’s throat. Moon-jo is dead, but he doesn’t need to be alive to influence Jong-Woo anymore. Jong-Woo has started hallucinating his presence and voice, so everywhere he goes Moon-jo will always follow him.For Moon-Jo, this was probably the greatest way to die. To die at the hands of the greatest masterpiece you ever made, after making him realise his true potential and opening the door to a new way of expressing his repressed anger at the world. The freedom of saying and doing exactly what you feel. Curse, Scream or Kill – it doesn’t matter anymore as long as you are being true to your thoughts. Moon-jo’s genius was not in his unique way of artistic expression by making teeth his choice of gems to put into jewellery. but in his masterful manipulation of a person’s trust in sense of self, in the world and perception of reality. Fear is sown in the mind, and it blossoms into paranoia. Jong-Woo didn’t escape, not because he was incapacitated, but because he believed he couldn’t. Moon-jo had him convinced that, no matter how far he ran away, he would be found and dragged back to that place. That the killer’s presence would pervade and poison every moment in his life no matter how many kilometres he tried to put between him and Moon-Jo.

With what we know now about Jong-Woo’s past and present, our perception of his actions shifts 180 degrees. He is no longer the troubled main lead, much less the victim. He is now the culmination of Moon-Jo’s work, unleashed from his shell of fake niceties and repressed emotions. One is tempted to ask : Did Moon-Jo make the monster, or is that something Jong Woo did all by himself? In my opinion, this violent outburst of self-righteous judgement – “You all don’t deserve to live“- was always a long time coming. All Moon-Jo did was as previously mentioned, light the match, and wait for the wildfire to take over, inviting destruction. He became the catalyst for what would be Jong-Woo’s journey of self-discovery.An eerie feeling crept into my spine, as all the pieces fell into place. Moon-Jo was right. He and Jong-Woo are made from the same cloth. He peeled the layers hiding the madness inside, pushed aside the veneer of that innocent face and was the only one who saw Jong-Woo for who he truly was – a pressure cooker filled with murderous rage. So Moon-Jo took off the lid.We can find a parallel here with Seo Moon-Jo’s day job as a dentist, putting aside the more darker pleasures for now. He found pleasure in the job by scraping the teeth and finding the cavities inside. But with people, his pleasure was in scraping at the enamel until he found the cavities inside, just so he could slowly, imperceptibly feed them…ultimately eating the person themselves.Seo Moon-Jo’s chilling last words come to mind,“You are my greatest masterpiece. Now, You and I will be together forever…Honey.”The last scene will be etched in my mind, Jong-Woo’s face has the shadow of Moon-Jo’s smile as he repetitively types the same word on his laptop, “ Die.“

[theboombutton]

Thinking about The Magnus Archives season 5 and tragedy.

Seasons 1-3 work as a classic flaw-motivated tragedy, with Jon's primary fatal flaw changing more or less from season to season, but generally revolving around unwillingness to trust. Season 1 is driven by insecurity, which prevents him from forming trusting relationships with his co-workers and causes two of them to put themselves in extreme peril just in order to have evidence solid enough that he might believe them. In season 2 he spirals into full-blown paranoia. In season 3, he recognizes the depth of the shit he's in, but keeps himself isolated and therefore vulnerable out of a misguided, guilty intuition that letting anyone in on what he's doing will only expose them to more danger.

Just before the end of season 3, he recognizes that his unwillingness to trust is responsible for most of the mess that they're in, and he resolves to start trusting his team. But it's too late, and he dies - killed by the person who felt most betrayed by his lack of trust.

But then he comes back, and lack of trust isn't his tragic flaw anymore. If anything he trusts too much in season 4. He trusts that Martin knows what he's doing in working for Peter Lukas. He trusts Basira's bad leads and bad judgements. He's been reborn into a different character with a different fatal flaw.

Season 4 Jon's fatal flaw is his self-loathing, particularly regarding being a monster. He intentionally weakens himself because he feels guilty for how he needs to feed; he throws himself into dangerous, reckless situations out of penance; and he doesn't use his abilities in situations where using them would have given Elias's whole game away. And once again, it's just when he turns a new leaf - when he accepts his powers and uses them to save Martin - that the tragic consequences of his actions strike.

But what is his tragic flaw in season 5?

For a while it seemed like it might be guilt and grief; and then, for a little while, vengeance. But he turned away from both of these paths fairly quickly. The choices he's made this season haven't seemed to hurt anyone yet. He seems reasonably mentally healthy, under the circumstances. His primary motivation for most of the things he's done seems to have been to make Martin happy.

Is this season one great denoumont, and we're getting one final lap around the consequences of Jon's previous flaws before he makes good and dies? Is his attachment to Martin his fatal flaw for the season, destined to doom the world where e.g. Gertrude Robinson would have been able to pull the trigger? Or is this arc a tragedy only on a personal level, and the "flaw" is actually just the fact that he wants to set things right - will his success be tragic consequence enough?

[rogerslovesstark]

Me and You, Forever

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Angst, Fluff

Words: 3k

Disclaimer: literally my longest fic. 

You and Bucky first met during Hydra in late 2012, they had you working on a new super-soldier program, however, you were unaware of the true use of the tech because they had kept you in the dark. Once you heard Bucky screaming in the lab, his handlers wiping his memory again, you realized that you needed to help him.

While you couldn’t get him out of the facility, you brought him apple slices and tangerines sometimes other times you brought chamomile tea. One day you were tasked with reprogramming his arm after one of his missions, he had been freshly wiped and you were anxious about his reaction towards you.

“Soldat, it's me,” You whispered to not startle him, a cup of tea in one hand, for him. His back was facing you, the broadness of his back, the red scars along his back, especially around his shoulder. You pitied the poor man, he had no choice in any of this.

He slowly turned around to face you, a blank face and dead eyes. The blank grey walls, mattress on the floor, a door in the left corner of his room, a small barred window with little sunlight, the harsh florescent lights, a single chair, his room was depressing, to say the least.

“I’m here to reprogram your arm, this is some tea for you,” You say softly to keep from triggering him. He stays still and just stares at you. You look into his eyes and you see that he is watching you with curiosity and familiarity. You slowly walk towards him, all the equipment already in the room from previous officers bringing them in after wiping him.

He finally sat in his chair and watched as you moved around the room, you handed him his tea and started to set up the equipment. You turned to look at him and he was staring at the tea in his hand. You raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“You put something in this tea, that’s why you gave it to me,” He grumbles and puts the tea on the floor, in front of him. You walk towards the tea and he tenses up, sitting up straight, hands quickly forming fists. You put your hands up as a sign of peace, you wouldn’t do any harm to him.

You pick up the tea and take a large sip out of the cup, swallowing, and then opening your mouth to show him the tea had been swallowed. You felt hurt that he would think that you would ever harm him, however, all his handlers had harmed him so he wouldn’t know who to trust.

“I’m not here to hurt you Soldat, I know they hurt you, and I want to help you, but I can’t get you out of here because you are their asset and they would realize that you went missing, so I try to bring a small sense of comfort to you,” You say walking slowly towards him until you’re in front of him.

He watches you with eyes filled with curiosity, none of this made sense to him, why weren’t you hurting him, were you going to use him for something else, perhaps a mission of your own. He ran through all the scenarios in his head of what you possibly want from him. You hadn’t moved from where you were, just stretching your hand out for him to take the teacup. He reluctantly takes it.

You quickly get to work and stay through most of the night fixing his arm, he never moves, only lifting his arm to take a sip of his tea. You smell like vanilla and roses, your skin soft and face so pretty. He feels his heart thump in his chest as your hand brushes along his scars accidentally. You hadn’t tried anything all night. Just humming a soft tune and working on the arm.

+++++++

Another two weeks had passed, you continually brought him books to read, tea for sleeping, small meaningless talks to keep him company. You snuck into his room every night for your 30 minutes of lunch. The two of you wouldn’t really speak, you would just read to him and try to help him remember whatever Hydra wiped away.

“Why do you work for them?” He asked quietly, scared that the handlers would realize that you were in here when you weren’t supposed to be. You smile softly at him, squeezing one of his knees.

“I don’t, they forced me to work for them, my father did and he told them that I studied engineering in school, so they told me that I would work for them or they would kill my father, so here I am.” You whispered, staring into his icy blue eyes, wondering what he was thinking.

“They ended up killing him anyway, so it didn’t matter what I chose,”

++++

“What’s your name?” He asked you a week later. You looked up at him, smiling a toothy smile.

“Y/n,” You say, waiting for him to tell you his name. He just nods and returns to reading his book. Your eyebrows furrow and you sit up from the mattress.

“What’s your name?” You ask him, his eyebrows scrunch together and a deep frown sets into his face. His eyes become blank and your heart breaks after what he says.

“I don’t know”

++++

“Wipe him again, we need him for the assassination” Pierce booms, The Asset's face was blank but you could tell by his eyes that. Pierce was a cold son of a bitch who didn’t care for anyone except Hydra. Once you tried to explain to him that The Asset couldn���t go into cryo because the new technology that was developed would be ineffective, he backhanded you in front of all the other officers.

You never refer to them as co-workers, or friends, just officers. You were being held here against your will for the past 3 years. You didn’t want this, you wanted to live and see your family again. You were only allowed out of the facility with an officer by your side, once a week for 8 hours max. You and the Asset were both victims of Hydra.

++++

“I’ve developed something, it's for you” You whisper to him, you’ve been meeting for the past 9 months and this awkward friendship has begun to blossom. He would go into cryo for only a week, and you were always so lonely. So one week, you develop an algorithm that would reverse the brain wipe for him, not completely, just whatever was recently erased.

“What is it?” He asked curiously.

You began to explain that algorithm to him, trying to get him to understand that this would help him, not hurt him, but he didn’t understand.

“No, get out, you just want to hurt me, get out,” He seethes at you. You work for them, he still isn’t sure if he can trust you yet. Sure you bring tea, and read books, spend 30 minutes with him every day, which he looks forward to every single day; can you be trusted though?

“Soldat, please,” You begin to put a hand of his nonmetal shoulder. It happened so quickly you didn’t even realize what happens until you felt pain radiate down your back. He had dislocated your shoulder and pinned you to the floor. Tears sprung into your eyes and a sob rips from your throat as the pain becomes too much to handle.

You feel like you can’t move, he watches from above you, not knowing what to do, but seeing you crying and in pain is breaking his heart, he regrets putting his hands on you immediately.

“I-I-I-I’m s-sorry,” He whispers to you, you were cradling your arm in your hand and you rush to the door, trying to get away from him as quickly as possible. Before he could go to you, you were out the door.

“No, please don’t go…” He whispers.

++++

He doesn’t see you for almost two weeks and he is beginning to go insane. No more small talks, no more tea, no more apple slices or tangerines, no more reading to him, no more trying to explain some mathematical theory to him even if he doesn’t understand the concept. He just loved listening to the sound of your voice, your sweet presence in his room, even for those limited 30 minutes.

He had begun to spiral, having nightmares about hurting you, the one person who was kind to him while they were all so cruel. You, so sweet and cute, being so nice to him, just gone, you avoided him at all costs. Relocating your shoulder back into your socket was by far the most painful experience of your life.

You worked in the lab most of the time, and the 30 minutes that you had free, you still stayed in the lab. You missed him, but you were too scared of him right now, he had hurt you badly and you were horrified of him right now.

++++

Captain America had taken down Hydra 3 months later. You were finally free. You went to go to your family's home, only to find no one there, except a note that took you to a gravesite, two graves side by side, your mother, and your father. Both had the same exact death dates. You cried at their graves for 2 hours, mourning the loss of both of your parents.

He watched you from afar, watching you cry was breaking his heart, but he was so happy to see you were okay. He hadn’t seen you since the day the hurt you, still regretting what he had done, he walks over to you.

“Y/n?” You heard a voice whisper. Your head snaps up to see his beautiful blue eyes. You cry even harder when he falls to his knees and hugs you to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you continue sobbing into his shirt.

“Come on,” He whispers.

++++

You figure out his name at the Smithsonian. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky was his nickname. Reading everything he had done during the war, he felt like a fraud, knowing all the horrible things he had done. You walk through the museum hand in hand, he was all you had.

“Him, that was the guy who I fought,” Bucky said lowly, trying to maintain his cover. The blonde man staring back at him, Bucky felt anxious looking at his photograph, ‘Steve’ had been his best friend and they were both 95 because of some freak experiments done on them.

“We need to get out of this country,” Bucky whispered in your ear. You look up at him, not realizing that you were both slowly leaning towards each other until you felt his breath on your face. He looked for your lips to your eyes, silently asking for permission to kiss you.

You placed your lips against his soft ones, molding together and you put your hands slowly against his scruffy cheeks, cupping his face. He brings his hands to the middle of your back, holding you close to him, he didn’t know what he was doing but he went along with whatever you were doing.

You slide your tongue across his lower lips, asking for permission, and he grants it, tongues twisting around each other, your hands go up into his hair in fists and his flesh hand comes up to your neck and squeezes softly, not to hurt you, but to show you who is in control.

You pull away breathless and you smile at him, feeling a little dizzy from the small takeout you just had.

His heart was beating a little quicker looking at your now swollen lips, still tasting you on his lips, he pulls you back towards him, placing his lips on you, arms wrapped around you, pressing you against his chest.

You pull away from Bucky when you hear some kids yelling “EWWW” from across the exhibit. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you out of the museum.

++++

You and Bucky found a cheap apartment in Romania, even though you didn’t know the language, Bucky taught you. Both of you would sit on the balcony, you in his lap, and read to him as you did a few years ago. He would play with your hair and constantly place kisses on your shoulder, always apologizing for hurting you and that he would never do it again.

You smile at him, you had been in Romania for almost 2 years now, and for the past two years, you had both fallen madly in love with each other. You were Bucky’s solace, his sweetheart, the light of his dark light.

Everything you did, Bucky swore you were more of an angel than you were before. You could do no wrong, and Bucky was your happy place, cute little jokes, watching movies on the CD player you found, getting him caught up on the new time. You pitied him whenever you would make a reference joke and he would just look at you confused and lost.

You got a job teaching math at an elementary school and Bucky got a job at a lumber yard. You called him your lumberjack and he would always chuckle and kiss your forehead. The small apartment was home, even if you were tight on money.

You were teaching when another teacher had come in to show you the newsreels. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Your Bucky, he wouldn’t do that, there was no way, how could he have bombed a building in Germany when he went to get plums at the market. Once the school day was over, you rushed to your apartment, only to find it a huge mess.

You couldn’t open the door, the table you had just bought was jammed into the door, you managed to climb over it and saw the mess inside your apartment, horrified, but

Where was Bucky?

Bucky was calm in his cell, thinking of the wonderful two years he had with you. He wrote a quick note before they got him, hoping you would find it under the sheets of your small bed.

You begin to start cleaning everything up, tears streaming down your face because you didn’t know what happens to Bucky, shaking the bed sheets you see a small piece of paper.

N/n, it wasn’t me, stay there, I’ll be home soon. I love you always - Your Bucky

You start heavily sobbing, not knowing the next time you’re going to see him again. Your Bucky, taken by the police, wrongly accused of something he didn’t do.

++++

After three days, your apartment was back in tiptop shape, like nothing ever happen. Your bed was cold every night, you missed Bucky’s warmth, even if his metal arm was cold, you still managed. Trying to desperately fall asleep because you had to go to work tomorrow, you hear rapid knocking on your door.

You grab a knife from the kitchen and slowly walk to the door, only to reveal Captain America waiting for you. You were so shocked that you dropped the knife and stood staring at him.

“Hi, I’m Steve, Bucky’s friend, he’s asking for you,” Steve said calmly. You reached up and smacked him on his cheek. His face was shocked, to say the least.

“That’s for Germany,”

++++

“Baby,” Bucky says once he sees you come off the plane Steve trailing behind you. Bucky runs as fast as he could towards you. Four days without you were like hell for Bucky, only you could bring him the comfort he needs now more than ever. He remembers everything, all of the kills, every brain wipe, the pain of waking up with a detached limb.

You run into his hug and breathe in his masculine smell. Four days without your lover being around felt so sickening. You hug him so tightly, and he walks back towards the palace, only stopping to let you say hello to the king and thanking him for everything he was doing for the two of you.

You get a nice room in the palace, a beautiful view of one of the most advanced cities in the world. Bucky barely lets you have a look around the place before he takes you to bed and ravishes you till the sun rises.

++++

“Wheres the fight?” Bucky asks T’Challa. You see a metal arm in a box and immediately know what is about to happen. You walk over to Bucky and pull him back towards the hut, smiling and waving at T’Challa. Once inside, you hug him tightly to you, knowing he was going to be very upset to have to fight again.

“You don’t have to, you know?” You whisper into his ear, running your hand over his sweaty dirty hair. He just stands there, arm around your waist holding you close.

“You need a shower, your hair is so oily, it's disgusting,” You say to him. He just rolls his eyes and kisses your lips chastely.

++++

“Bucky? Baby? Where are you?” You say after opening your eyes. You felt kind of dizzy and weird, like everything felt so strange. A huge portal opened up suddenly and you scream. What the fuck is going on?

“Babe, come on,” You see Bucky on the other side. You jump through and hug him, you look around to see so many people surrounding you.

“Buck, what is happening?”

Then you hear Steve scream, “Avengers… Assemble”

++++

The war was over. Both of you were gone for five years and you didn’t even notice. Tony and Natasha were gone, Steve went back to the 40s and left Bucky here. That might have hurt him the most. You could tell that he was hurting at the idea of Steve leaving, not staying with him and being the one person who could really relate to him.

Bucky held you close, not wanting to let you go and Steve talked to Sam. You felt his throat bobbing and you turned to cup his face, his eyes watery. Bucky couldn’t contain himself, feeling like he wasn’t enough for anyone.

“Please don’t leave me, you’re all I have left,” He whispered into your ear. Tears well up in your eyes, you hug him as tight as possible.

“Never, me and you, forever,” You smile at him and kiss him. It would all be okay in the end.

[glolovescats]

A story of me and my history. My experiences.

CW - trauma, sexual assault, mental health struggles (ADHD, BPD, OCPD, Depression, PTSD, Autism??), self harm, addiction, psychological abuse

.

.

I’m 27 years old, non binary, AFAB. I am the older middle child of 4, all of my siblings are brothers.

I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD, BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder) and most recently PTSD.

My first psych evaluation was when I was 5 years old, and I have recently found the notes from that evaluation and they point to early onset BPD traits as well as ADHD.  Though it is stated repeatedly throughout the notes that they could not complete a full assessment because I refused to participate in any activity or or engage with anything that I deemed “too difficult” instead spending more time on the things that I was comfortable with such as painting.

My favourite lines from the assessment are as follows:

“If she is not motivated by an activity, she trends to wander off physically and mentally.  However if interested, she can concentrate for long periods of time.”

 “*Deadname* was a great talker and loved to tell stories on and off topic. She had a keen sense of her own capabilities and was often self-critical of her work stating ‘it does not look good.’ It was very difficult to change her mind and she appeared to want to be in control of the situation.”

I remember after this assessment being medicated for ADHD for a few months. My parents called them my “hyper pills” because if I was hyper it meant I probably hadn’t taken them..... yikes.

After those few months, for whatever reasons my parents took me off the medication.

I have had a very intense oral fixation since a very young age, biting my nails for as long as I remember and being a thumb-sucker, not just during sleep but during awake hours as well, until I was 9 years old.

When I was 11 I began self harming, as a way to release my emotional energy and tensions and soothe myself.

When I was 13 I told my mom about my self harming, at which point she sent me to a psychiatrist again. I was again diagnosed with ADHD and put on medication, which I remained on until my second year of college when I decided I didn’t want to be medicated anymore.  As a teen, I continued to self harm but hid it from my mom as she was very critical and cruel in her reactions to it.  Anytime I had emotional outbursts (which was, fairly often) I would be asked “have you taken your meds today!!?” as if that would solve everything going on.  I spent many hours curled up in a ball in my closet crying, sobbing, feeling like I was going to explode, then hurting myself to calm down.

When I left home for college, I developed anorexia. I stopped cutting myself, but began hitting myself repeatedly until bruises formed, then maintaining those bruises over long periods of time as a new form of self harm.  It was also in this time that my love of cannabis started to really form (I had enjoyed it as well as a teen, but in limited capacities as I lived with parents who I had to hide it from, and they were quite controlling over my social life and free time)

After 2 years of college, my first queer partner, whom I still feel very fondly for and maintain a very strong friendship with, noticed not only my eating disorder but also my self harm habit, and convinced me to seek help.  A few months later I went to my doctor and was diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety, and put back on medications.  I was 19 then, I am 27 now and still on that same medication, though the dose has varied throughout the years depending on my emotional state.

I went through some other relationships, some healthy, some less so.

I became more and more in love with cannabis. SPending what little money I had on it. “Borrowing” some from friends and lovers. Smoking when I woke up, in the afternoon, and before bed, sometimes throughout all hours of the day.

When I was 23 I fell in love with a man named Derek. It was the first cis man I had ever truly fallen in love with, and that love became... toxic. Obsessive. At the time I would have called it passionate but I know now that it was very unhealthy.  I put everything in my life aside for him. I risked pregnancy not because I wanted a child (I never have) but because I wanted to make sure he would never leave me.  This is also when my love of cannabis solidified into an addiction.  I was using it to cope with the pain of being so desperately in love with someone who, wasn’t very good at catering to my needs, to put it lightly. He was a dealer at the time, this was before it became legalized in Canada so dealers were still very much needed.  So I always had access to it, and for free or cheap.  We would wake up in the middle of the night and go smoke a couple bowls before heading back into bed. We smoked all day every day, it was what our relationship revolved around.  We would also take large amounts of MDMA on the weekends and go out dancing from midnight to 8 or 9am at the after hours clubs, then go home and smoke to ease the come down. This gave me a love for MDMA which is a terrible thing for someone with low serotonin to begin with.

Nearly two years into our relationship, my friends started to notice that I wasn’t being treated well, that I was always hurting, always longing for more from him, and always pushing aside my needs to accommodate him.  They begged me to leave him.  I was having breakdowns, even with my antidepressants. I was self harming again. I was having rage blackouts. I was hurting.  A few months later, he broke up with me.  I begged him not to. I promised I could be right for him. We just had to try. He didn’t want to try.

Now, 4 years later, I’m so glad he didn’t. Yes, my heart was shattered in that moment, yes it sent me on a spiral, but I see now how toxic the relationship was and he is not anything like the person I would want to be with for life.

At that time I was living in towns on the outskirts of Toronto, but his dumping me gave me the push I needed to move to into the city, which I did, y months later. March 15th 2017.  Moving to Toronto meant more freedom, more access to all the things that made me happy - a queer community, a polyam community *I discovered Polyamoury about 2 months after our breakup and realized how much I needed it*, more job opportunities, more diversity and acceptance.  It also meant higher rent, higher weed prices as I was now buying from dispensaries, higher transit costs and generally higher cost of living.  Some of my new friends were sex workers and it... appeared enticing for me.  however I didn’t feel close enough with these friends yet to ask details about safety, vetting, standards, etc.

Well, I decided to get into sex work for myself, without really knowing what i was getting into.  I’m not going to get into much detail here because my PTSD stems directly from these experiences and I don’t want to trigger myself right now.  But I spent 2 years working as a Sugar Baby and Full Service Sex Worker.  I did not have standards. I was driven by my need to maintain my weed habit - which was at least 2 grams/day - so on average about $600/month or more.  I didn’t take safety into mind more than letting my roommate know the given name and phone number of the person I was meeting up with.  This led to... a lot of fucked up situations. A lot of pain and trauma. I was constantly high, which allowed my to dissociate while these things were happening to me and suppress the memories quite quickly. By this time in my addiction, I was never NOT stoned.  On top of that I would occasionally take MDMA before or during a date to maintain a peppy mood and appearance.  On March 1st 2019, after realising that I wasn’t even making money off of all of it, I was driven far into debt by trying to maintain appearances and a lifestyle that i just couldn’t afford, and a realization that I was dissociating whenever I was being intimate with a client OR a friend or loved one... I decided to leave the industry. It’s been over a year now.

In the first year of my living in Toronto I saw a psychiatrist about my mental instability, my rage blackouts, my obsessiveness. I was diagnosed with BPD and put on a mood stabilizer, which I admit has helped a lot in terms of my heightened emotions and rage problems.

During those first 2 years in Toronto, I was also in a queer, polyam relationship with a person named Laurel.  At first i was drawn to their softness, their creativity, their ability to be vulnerable with me and others.  Eventually, that vulnerability became co dependance. They used me as a crutch, they took all of my emotional energy for themselves and never gave any in return.  While I was being traumatized, I was also supporting them through their mental health struggles and ignoring my own. They had a bad habit of disregarding and stomping all over my boundaries. even after we would discuss them and i would make compromises. I was being abused by this inherently toxic person (I say that, having many friends who have witnessed and felt the toxicity from this person as well). By April 2019 I was drained, I was traumatized, I was falling into a pit and being pushed down even further by the person who claimed to love me.  When I tried to set boundaries I was met with threats of suicide, manipulating me into staying with them longer.  But eventually I started to see through it and I just couldn’t anymore. I ended it. Which was met with a lot of cruelty and more manipulation to the point where eventually I had to just block them from every form of contact and move on.

Throughout the year after that, my weed habit maintained, and got even more intense, going up to closer to 3 grams/day and including concentrates and edibles as well.  I was always high. Always numb. I couldn’t remember anything. I couldn’t focus during conversations even if I was really interested in what we were talking about. I couldn’t stay awake, I would pass out while hanging out with friends, while on public transit, in movie theatres.. anywhere. I could hardly get out of bed in the mornings and when I did I would go straight for the bong.

I was constantly fatigued and I felt numb. I didn’t want to believe my precious cannabis could be doing this to me though, so I begged my doctor to refer me to a psych to discuss changing medications, assuming it was my meds giving me these side effects.  That psychiatrist diagnosed me with OCPD, saying that he believes this is what has always caused the depression and anxiety, and he also diagnosed me with CUD - Cannabis Use Disorder - essentially a fancy way of saying I’m an addict and my drug of choice is cannabis.  He told me that he would not touch my meds until I either drastically cut back my usage or stopped altogether.

I was devastated, I hated the idea of having to not smoke weed anymore. And I knew I would HAVE to stop altogether because my many many many attempts in the past to cut back were never successful. I knew then that I was an addict, just like my alcoholic father, my alcoholic and cocaine addict younger brother. I knew I had the gene too.

I discovered MA - Marijuana Anonymous, which is like AA  or NA but for stoners.  My dad had been sober for 11 years with the help of rehab and AA so I figured I would give it a shot.  I smoked my last bowl on February 29th, I went to my first meeting on March 1st.  I haven’t smoked or consumed any cannabis products since. It’s over 4 months now. I also made the conscious decision to be sober from alcohol as in the past my attempts at smoking less weed led to drinking more alcohol.  I know I need to fight my addiction as an entire entity, not just as one substance.

In the past 4 months I’ve been through a lot of ups and downs.  Not only with sobriety, but with the pandemic hitting Canada mid march, forcing me out of work and stuck at home, it’s had both positive and negative effects.  My first month of sobriety I was fairly manic, I wasn’t as hazy and groggy and fatigued, I had also just started taking Vyvanse - a stimulant - for my ADHD. So I was very motivated and I was cleaning and creating and doing all these things I could with my free time.  Then about a month and a half into it I started to get physically depressed - I say it that way because my mind felt ok. IO wasn’t having catastrophic thinking or suicidal ideation or desires to self harm - but I was feeling very avoidant and sleeping and napping so much more. Two months in, my memories that I had been suppressing with the constant high started to come through to my conscious. Sometimes they were childhood or teen memories, which I could mostly cope with.  But then came the memories from the sex work. The traumatic experiences. The shame that surrounds them.  I was having invasive thoughts. I would lay my head down to sleep and suddenly be in flashbacks.  I had known for a long time (about a year, since leaving the industry) that I was triggered into panic attacks by intimacy and touch, but I didn’t know exactly what was causing those panic attacks. I just knew that touch made me feel so unsafe.  Well, now I knew why. One night I called my sponsor, crying, stuck in a loop of flashbacks and memories and feeling like I couldn’t breathe.  And then the words just flowed out of me, I said “I think maybe I have PTSD”.  Luckily for me, I already had a follow up appointment with my psychiatrist scheduled for the next week. I told him everything that was happening, that I was remembering things but then getting stuck in flashbacks and shame and cycling thoughts. He then diagnosed me with PTSD. He suggested we go back up to a slightly higher dose of my antidepressant while maintaining my other medications (I’m still on the mood stabilizer and the stimulant) and urged me to find ongoing therapy. My sponsor had sent me a link to a group of psychotherapists who work on a low budget sliding scale, so I referred myself to them and within 48 hours had a free 50 minute consultation scheduled.

Where am I now?

Struggling with the invasive thoughts which make me feel depressed, but knowing where they stem from is helpful.  Awaiting my therapy consultation which is in a couple of days, hoping it’s a good match and that we can start speaking weekly or every other week depending on cost.

For a while now I’ve been trying to decipher whether I really do have ADHD< BPD and OCPD all blended together, or if I’m really autistic, because so many of my traits and symptoms overlap with autism.  I’m doing my research now on traits of autism and seeing where I identify.  I doubt I would ever get a diagnosis, as doctors would rather believe we have all these other disorders rather than autism (stigma), but to know where I feel I fit would be helpful.  I have some friends on the spectrum and I’ve reached out to them to discuss as well.  My youngest bother is autistic but he really fits the “autistic teen boy” stereotypes which I do not.  And I understand that autism can present very differently in different genders and different people.  Personally, I believe I may be Autistic and have PTSD. But I will continue to pursue ongoing therapy, as well as DBT therapy, to address my behaviours and see where I can learn to cope better.

I am probably the most single polyam person you could meet. I have no intention of dating, though I do have a couple crushes I intend to grow strong friendships with, until I have learned to cope with the PTSD and intimacy triggers. In a way it’s as if I am currently feeling asexual, because even the thought of kissing someone I like triggers me into a panic.  But I don’t believe that I will feel this way forever so I don’t use asexual as an identifier or label for myself.  I am not working, though still technically employed, my job is in the travel industry and we don’t expect to have enough meaningful work to return to until at least the fall.  When i do return to work I’ll be doing so remotely, as will most of the employees of our company. So I have less transit expenses, less time constraints, and more freedom to focus on myself and my personal development.  I’ve made this tumblr to explore and learn more about autism in adults. As well as to have something to do and distract myself with when i start to enter a depressive cycle.  SO this blog will be a mix of mental health and neuro-divergent info posts, along with cute animals, selfies, travel photos, and maybe a little shit posting - as a treat.

Welcome, and thank you for reading my story.  If you have any questions or relate to any of it and want to chat, my inbox is open.

[lcighz-blog]

❛ new york’s very own leigh st ares was spotted on broadway street in  black+white vans. your resemblance to matthew daddario is unreal. according to tmz, you just had your twenty sixth birthday bash. while living in new york, you’ve been labeled as being reckless , but also sweet. i guess being a virgo explains that. three things that would paint a better picture of you would be summer afternoons on the balcony with music coming from a vinyl record with a guitar in hand, following along to the music. & ( cismale & he/him ) + JJ, 23, she/her, best)

hi, it’s me JJ, and I’m going to be adding from my previous intro, so if you want to know the origins of leigh CLICK HERE, and if you want to just read that new new, read below. I’ve made a bit of a cheat sheet but if you want to know more then you can check his original intro. this is still long

PSA: THERE ARE A LOT OF TRIGGERS IN THE INTROS SO PLEASE BEWARE OF THEM. 

TRIGGERS: DEATH, ABUSE, RELAPSE, DRUGS, ALCOHOL, OVERDOSE. 

STATS

birth name: quincy morrison jr.

name: leigh st ares.

birthday: september 10th 1993 | VIRGO

ethnicity: italian-american

gender: cismale

sexuality: heterosexual

occupation: musician

drug use? yes

alcohol use? yes

THE RUNDOWN

leigh’s mom left early on in his life, and he was raised by an alcoholic/abusive dad, his dad chilled out when he got into a relationship with a woman named Tiffany but even she wasn’t safe for leigh.

he grew up with siblings and he always took care of them before himself. 

at 14 he was put into foster care with his siblings after a lot of social workers passed by the house. leigh was ripped away from his family and he started to rebel with each foster home he went to.

he eventually landed a nice foster home with a nice couple (leighton & Andrea Holt) and they gave him the chance for a whole new life.

through learning how to be a part of the Morrison family, leigh grew a relationship with Mr. Morrison. they conversed about music, specifically 80′s rock and roll. Leigh learned to admire bands like Queen, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, KiSS, etc. 

didn’t mean he wasn’t a bad kid bc oh boy he was super bad, did all the drugs, all the parties. he grew addicted and had an overdose at 17, giving up on everything and it wasn’t until he saw his foster parents the next day along with his siblings that gave him hope, and the thought that he wouldn’t fuck it up again.

so he tried, and his foster parents got him a guitar, that’s when he started his own band bc he discovered he really has a passion for music. 

LIFELINE

Lifeline is the name of leigh’s band.

I basically base their sound of Skillet, and other bands but MAINLY Skillet.

Lifeline got big once leigh and his friends graduated high school. 

they toured with VANS: Warped Tour almost every summer, that’s how his band got recognized.

The band started collabing with pop stars and other artists to create a rock fusion kind of sound while keeping rock elements in the music.

Personally, leigh doesn’t stick to the rock genre, it’s just the one he’s most comfortable with.

leigh doesn’t have a relationship with his father, he choses not to look back.

once Lifeline took off, leigh changed his old name and gave himself a new one honoring leighton morrison, the man that he considers his father now. 

the morrisons officially adopted leigh when he was 18 - yeah he was old, but they wanted to be considered family legally too. so leigh was super emotional during that day, and he never is. 

everything was going good until ... leighton morrison passed away from a heart attack and leigh didn’t hear about this until after one of his shows. it was supposed to be a good show but it wasn’t when he got the call from mrs morrison. 

it’s been tough for leigh ever since. 

Lifeline is already known to be ... a lot to handle (think motley crue), but now with leigh caring less, they’re a lot worse. they trash hotel rooms, blow cars on fire, go streaking --- and most of it are leigh’s idea

CURRENTLY 

leigh and Lifeline are touring, during promotional work, but a lot of their promotional work is in New York so he doesn’t really leave too often. 

he’s secluded himself from his band unless he’s performing, so most of the time you can catch him in his small apartment, playing on his guitar or bass, figuring out some lyrics.

he’s doing his very best not to spiral down again, and thankfully because he’s older, and so are his siblings, he’s able to have support from his adopted family and his actual family. 

he’s really shit at relationships, it’s just that it never works out somehow which is weird cos this guy is oddly affectionate, i wouldn’t say cheesy but when he likes someone he loves to be around them. but yeah, it’s just never worked, probably his schedule and his need to not listen to others.

PERSONALITY

throughout everything, he’s managed to stay pretty humble. 

he’s got a joking personality but a lot of people assume he’s an asshole over how critical he is on himself and others.

everyone he works with sees him as a hard worker, he likes everything to be perfect from the lights to the notes on the keys. think beyonce when she’s prepping for her shows. he’s THAT bitch.

he’s pretty serious on responsibility. it’s that ‘i dont have time for this shit’ personality. he’s super blunt about everything, and if you’re not the same way, he really will get super ANNOYED bc he’s not a mind reader. 

this guy is so stubborn, idk how he gets everything done, but maybe that’s why he always gets his way.

he’s a fun time when it comes to parties and doesn’t mind.

I like to think of him as a huge bear that is sometimes cuddly. 

he really loves to be creative and he’s good at it. he finds he can best express himself through music. he’s written love songs for girls in the past. ew i know but he did it, it got him brownie points lol

CONNECTIONS ?

literally anything you can think of, i’ll probably be down for it but here’s some ideas ??

band mates

old friends

childhood friends

rehab friends

pre-fame friends

exes with benefits

exes turned friends

friends turned exes

childhood crush

friends with potential for more

angsty plots hmu, i love angst

siblings (?) 

cousins/anything familial

music collaboration or some other creative kind of collab (modelling? movies? etc im here for it!)

[themiddlelayer]

How am I supposed to do this?

**TW: Sexual assault/abuse**

How am I supposed to forgive MM for what he did to me? How am I supposed to move forward while watching him jumping into multiple... beds? relationships? within days of redefining things and him reassuring me that he wasn’t going to go crazy dating like he did in January? How do I explain to Tampa that I haven’t been sleeping for the last 2 weeks because of what MM did to me? 

I can’t turn my brain off. I’m waking up crying when I do sleep. And I’m doing my best to hold myself together so that I don’t let Tampa see quite how damaged I really am. It won’t change how he feels about me. He loves me. I’ve known for awhile. “Ambien Tampa” whispered the words into my hair the first night we spent together but he hadn’t really said the words out loud until last night. He and I have had an awesome weekend!

The three of us went to the comedy show Friday night but MM wanted to stay out later and I stayed down at Tampa’s place that night. MM had a lunch date Saturday so I ended up spending the day with Tampa before the roller derby thing. MM was on his phone messaging... one or all THREE of the women he’s... I don’t know exactly what... on and off all evening. He eventually said that the woman he met on Wednesday night, who he’d had lunch with, asked about all of us meeting up for a drink after derby. (She’s doing everything right in terms of communication with me and respecting my marriage!) But Tampa and I don’t drink. Plus, I was really annoyed with MM and knew that meeting her in that state wouldn’t be fair to her so I declined. 

I’d known things were... amiss... despite MM’s best efforts to put the guest room back in order before I came home Saturday morning. Then he went out Saturday night with the one from Wednesday. (I really need to come up with nicknames for the 2 new ones) Tampa was going to crash in the guest room alone but MM said that he didn’t know when or if he’d be home so he was fine with me sleeping in there with him.  

The guest room sheets were very freshly washed (I’d put fresh ones on a little more than a week ago) and after Tampa and I fooled around Saturday afternoon I found a long-ish, dark hair on my body. Our dark-colored dog’s hair is straight. This was wavy. MM didn’t wash the blanket after his Friday night guest. This afternoon I confirmed that it was the trans woman he’d met downtown a few weeks ago when he and Puppy went out and Tampa drove me home. 

MM did exactly what I’d asked him to do if he had anyone there while I was gone. He’d washed the sheets and made the bed back up. There were no obvious signs of anything out of place, BUT it was clear that our bed hadn’t been slept in and he left the washing machine lid closed. I always leave it open when I do laundry. 

He technically hasn’t done anything wrong per our agreements but I’m seeing this same pattern. Not only did he finally “indulge his fantasy” of being with a transwoman (which I find problematic unto itself in a way) but he’s been messaging the one from Wednesday non-stop and he jumped into bed with her really fast. Call it sex-shaming, but 2 new partners in 2 days, less than a week after re-negotiating our relationship dynamic feels excessive. And skeevy. 

His penis is his problem.. or theirs... but it only further shows me that he isn’t going to actually do what he needs to do to take care of himself. Going “true poly” as we’ve jokingly called the new agreement, was something that I never wanted for us. I agreed/suggested it because I know I can’t give him what he needs right now and it feels unfair given how things with me and Tampa have been going. I admit I’ve fallen into the cliche of ‘this will be how we save our marriage.’ And I know it’s wrong. 

I also know that I have to take care of myself. I know that regardless of whatever else was going on that after he sexually assaulted me he forfeited the right to his feelings being my concern. At all. 

He’s trying the best he knows how... suggesting more time for me and Tampa because he knows how safe I feel with him and that Tampa can give me the ‘body work’ I need including massage and kink. But I don’t know how to forgive MM. 

And I don’t know how to forgive myself for all the years of allowing myself to be treated like an object, not only by MM but by so many before him. It was like what MM did to me brought up all of the past incidents of similar behavior, all at once. Like I’m re-living everything from the first time when I was 7 years old... to the one my freshman year of HS who finally went to jail only after he raped another of his girlfriend’s friends and I still supported her even though she was one of the people who harassed me when I spoke up... to my 1st husband goading me into the threesome with our roommate as punishment for cheating with a much older co-worker when I was barely 18 years old... the roommate he slept with in our home, behind my back for a YEAR while telling me I was crazy when I questioned things... to ExH’s battle buddy when he left us alone and I was so drunk I was coming in and out of consciousness but felt like it was my fault because I was starting to develop feelings for him so when it happened the 2nd time I was sober. And I enjoyed it... And how I let ExH use my body for weeks on end as punishment for cheating on him. And... and.. and... 

How have I lived like this my entire life, not realizing just how wrong it is to be treated like an object? How do I live with knowing just how sick I was? And how badly I’ve been abused all these years without even realizing it was abuse... How the fuck do I heal from any of this while trying to forgive yet another abuser who “loves me?” An abuser who is showing me his love by ‘giving me more time’ with my boyfriend... which translates into more time for him to spend on his other relationships. 

How the fuck can I do anything when I’m this wrecked and have no job and couldn’t manage working again in this state? I feel trapped. Broken. Paralyzed. 

And all of the good that Tampa is showing me is only exacerbating how bad it all is and has been. It’s showing me that I AM worthy of love and respect... that I AM a whole person with worth that extends beyond my ‘pretty face’ and sexual energy. It’s showing me what it’s like to be loved by someone who, despite his own damage, is relatively healthy and aware of his own stuff. Someone who has been nothing but open and honest with me to the point that I don’t get that twinge in my gut when he talks about ex-girlfriends and female friends who he has declined to be more than friends with. I didn’t even flinch the other night when, while sharing pics, he opened up a video of him with an ex in bed. I simply told him that’s not my thing and he immediately closed it. No reaction. No pushback. No feeling triggered and spiralling internally like that kind of thing has done to me in the past with other partners. Just communication and respect. And love. 

I can’t tell Tampa what MM did because it would change how he sees him. I’ve been trying really hard to balance my own transparency with Tampa about what’s going on with me emotionally, and not ‘trash talking’ or vilifying MM to him. Tampa and I talked about that after breakfast today and he assured me that he doesn’t see me doing that to MM, but that he sees me discussing things with him.. not venting, not complaining, just being open with him. 

Tampa absolutely glows when we are together. He can’t take his hands off me, and not in a sexual or demeaning way, but holding my hand, rubbing my shoulders, putting his hand on my knee... Affection. It’s like heaven. My only complaint is that he needs a CPAP because of his snoring and he likes to cuddle all night long... but the CPAP blows cool air in my face if I don’t get into the right position. That, and his crappy bed... those haven’t helped my sleeplessness the last couple nights but I know the issue is that I can’t turn off. I’m back on high alert and I know that eating my brownies just yanks the bottom out emotionally. It causes more depression and disconnect from my body. So that’s one more thing to balance. Pick my poison for now, right? I really need sleep. 

[polyrolemodels]

Lucy / @PolyThought

1. How long have you been polyamorous or been practicing polyamory?

Just about five years now!

2. What does your relationship dynamic look like?

I'm in a partnership of almost five years that has been an open relationship from the start. C and I first met as co-workers 10 years ago and had overlapping social circles but hadn't spent any time together one-on-one until our first date five years later. I decided the last time I was single that I only wanted non-monogamous relationships going forward, and he was completely comfortable with that, having had experience in open relationships before. I'm grateful to him for the perspective he offered me (when I was a brand-new polyamorous person) and his comfortable, positive attitude towards freedom in relationships. Our relationship has grown ever-stronger and closer over the years, and we just had a commitment ceremony last month to share with our loved ones our intention to remain in a loving and supportive relationship for the rest of our lives. Sometimes people don't understand why we didn't get legally married. Our relationship is unconventional beyond just being non-monogamous: we also don't live together, we don't share finances, and we both live very independent lives. At least at this point, it wouldn't benefit us much to legally merge in the ways that marriage involves. But we love each other deeply and are very committed to our relationship, and we had our ceremony to commemorate and celebrate that.

W is an important person in my life who I'm in a changing relationship with. We started dating shortly after we met nearly two years ago. My worldview has expanded so much as a result of knowing them, particularly in all that I've learned about aromanticism, but also in many other ways. Our relationship is currently transitioning from a partnership to something different, by mutual agreement. Although change is hard, we're both on board with finding out what's next, and it's reassuring to know that we love each other. I'm thinking of this in the framework of "find spaces for the people in your life, not people for the spaces in your life," and I'm confident that we will find the right spaces for each other.

Overall, I'd say my relationship philosophy is "non-hierarchical polyamory." Although it is important to me to honor the commitments and plans I've made in existing relationships, it's also important to me that I (and anyone I'm with) can make similar commitments and plans in new relationships, too, if we want to. To me, being non-hierarchical means that every relationship has equal opportunity for growth into its own best-fitting format.

3. What aspect of polyamory do you excel at?

I'm good at communicating, even about the hard stuff, and I think I'm generally good at helping others feel comfortable communicating with me. I do well at analyzing relationships and introspecting about my motivations, feelings, needs, and boundaries. I'm good at seeking compromise in ways that honor my boundaries while keeping an open ear and heart to what my loved ones' boundaries are, too.

4. What aspect of polyamory do you struggle with?

Jealousy! It sometimes comes up when I least expect it. My self-confidence is pretty good these days, but sometimes, something seemingly small will just set me on a downward spiral in my head. I think I have a pretty good process for dealing with it, though.

5. How do you address and/or overcome those struggles?

Ideally, I give myself space to process my feelings when I'm first dealing with them. I know that my immediate, knock-me-upside-the-head jealous feelings will rarely lead to productive, compassionate discussion if I bring them up with the jealousy-target in that moment. Sometimes, that's been unavoidable, because the feelings start while I'm physically near the person/people. But if the feelings come up while I'm alone, I generally let myself sit with them long enough to feel them, and then for reason to start to creep back in. That usually involves some thought-challenging: for example, remembering that when I am enamored of someone, that doesn't change how I feel about anyone else. Or, remembering the things the person loves about me, or remembering evidence that they're attracted to me, or whatever else I need. Sometimes, that doesn't fully resolve my jealous feelings, and I realize I do need to talk to the person. My next step is to dig for a need I can name. Sometimes that need is just "verbal reassurance." Sometimes it's a request for extra attention or time. Sometimes it's a request for a change in communication -- for more or less of it, either in general or in specific circumstances, possibly on certain topics.

6. In terms of risk-aware/safer sex, what do you and your partners do to protect one another?

Get tested regularly (at least every 6 months for anyone seeing multiple people). Use agreed-upon protection. Communicate proactively about anything at all that might affect a partner's decision about whether to partake in a certain activity.

7. What is the worst mistake you've ever made in your polyamorous history and how did you rebound from that?

Specifically related to polyamory, I think the biggest mistake I made was thinking I should just be cool with everything. I wanted so badly to be chill. This led to some emotional challenges, but I've got a strategy now that works well. Something I learned over time was that although I don't want anyone to feel like they're keeping secrets, I also am not comfortable with hearing every last detail about a partner's relationship with someone else. I know some of my jealousy triggers by now. And although I have my ways of coping with jealousy, I've also now learned that there are ways to set myself up for success. And so, I've made peace with the fact that "chillness with everything" isn't, in fact, everything, and that having boundaries around the kinds of things I do and don't want to hear about is totally reasonable.

8. What self-identities are important to you? How do you feel like being polyamorous intersects with or affects these identities?

I am queer -- I am attracted to and date people of various genders. As a bisexual person, I had to get over some internalized polyphobia: bisexual people are culturally trained that the way to be a "good bisexual" is to be monogamous. You know, to combat the stereotype of the greedy bisexual. Well, I'm not monogamous, but I refuse to believe that this means I'm letting down the bisexual community. I learned about the concept of respectability politics recently, which really casts things like this in a helpful light. I don't need to model myself into the kind of bi person who is deemed acceptable to straight (or gay, or even bi) culture: I just need to treat others well. And I do my very best to do that.

Bonus: Do you have any groups, projects, websites, blogs, etc. that you are involved with that you would like to promote? I'm on tumblr as @polythought. 

—

Support Inclusive Polyamorous Representation at  https://www.patreon.com/PolyRoleModels

[andthereweresparks]

INTRODUCING; SOFIA GONZALES

Age: 26

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: She/Her

Occupation: Secretary for Sutton Surgery, Dance Instructor at Acro Studios, & Private Piano Instructor

Trigger Warnings: Death, Foster Care, Pregnancy (Unknown Paternity)

Biography:

Sofia was born in Charleston, but the only home she’s ever remembered was in Wakefield, having moved there with her Mom at 2 years old. Her father had passed away from kidney failure when she was just a year old and her mother wanted to start a new life away from that pain. 

Maria was the greatest mother and the little girl’s best friend. She taught dance lessons and Sofia grew up learning from her from the time she could walk. Her father had been a musician and in a way to share that with Sofia, Maria signed her up for piano and guitar lessons when she was 5.

Before she even began school, Sofia befriended her next door neighbor, a boy her age by the name of Marshall. The two played together all of the time, Maria often babysitting him after moving in next door. By the time they started school, they were inseparable. 

Life was happy for the first 9 years of Sofia’s life. Her home life was stable, she loved to dance, sing, and play music, and she had a best friend. But one night, Sofia and her other were coming back from a dance recital and someone t-boned their car. Sofia was badly injured, but her mother was DOA. A few days later, when Sofia woke up in the hospital, a social worker explained to her what happened and suddenly, Sofia was all alone.

Marshall’s family did come to visit her, the closest thing to family that she had in that moment, but they had a hard enough time taking care of their family, so they couldn’t take the girl in. With her mother’s family in Mexico and her father’s family long gone, she was left without anyone to claim her and went into foster care.

Sofia only had three foster homes. The first, she didn’t stay in long, the parents not equipped to deal with a grieving 9 year old girl. She was with them for only a few weeks. The next home, in a town outside of Wakefield, lasted for a few months. It wasn’t a good home to be in, and having to change schools and be away from Marshall, the only person she felt she had left in the world, sent her spiraling. She acted out in school, on the days she showed up and clearly was having a hard time adjusting to the placement. Not knowing any better, she told her case worker about the problems she was having with the family, but was still left in their care for a few months before being removed. 

At this point, she was 10 and placed in Miguel Vargas care and returned to Wakefield. She was beyond relieved to be back near her best friend and her behaviors and attendance at school was quickly rectified. Sofia still took time to warm up to her new family, but once she did, she found a new home for herself there. She bonded with him and the other kids as she began to settle in but within a few years, she truly felt like she found a family to be a part of.

Her and Marshall didn’t seem to miss a beat, despite the months apart and the trauma. If anything, Sofia became closer with him. He was the only person she felt like remembered her mother the way she did. As they got older, the two were a lot of firsts for one another. First kiss, first time, and they always did things together, like going to prom. Still, they dated other people, never admitting their feelings towards one another. 

When Sofia graduated from school, she and Marshall went out west to pursue their dreams. They got an apartment together and he attended university while she worked and tried to make it in the world of dance and music. She was talented enough to get cast in some music videos and as a dancer for concerts, even going on tour for a few months with an artist that helped her gain a following. Marshall was always there to cheer her on, and vice versa.

The two continued to have a best friends with benefits type of relationship, but dated others. Neither of them wanted to admit that they had feelings for the other. That was, until Sofia found out that she was pregnant. At that time, she laid everything out on the table with him. She told him that she’d been in love with him for as long as she could remember and that she was pregnant with his child. While it was a shock, he told her that he loved her too and that they would do whatever she wanted when it came to the pregnancy. He had a career established and she knew she’d have to give up dancing for a while, so she took up a secretary position at a clinic and started to look towards the future.

Happiness was a fickle beast, though. After her second doctors appointment, it was realized that Sofia’s date of conception had been mistaken, and that she was having fraternal twins. While they couldn’t pinpoint the exact day, they had a week in which she’d been with Marshall, as well as an ex within a short period of time. Marshall was pissed when she told him of the possibility, thinking she’d lied to him, and left in a rage after an argument. Sofia was heartbroken, both for herself and for him, but she waited for him to come back. She waited for her best friend and worried for him. She tried calling and texting, but he didn’t come home. It was 2 days before he came back and Sofia was distraught with worry at that point. Marshall, however, was drunk, and she didn’t know what to say to him in that state. They went to bed in separate bedrooms that night and when she woke up, he was packing up his things. They argued again and this time, when he left, he only came back once more, while she was out, to get the rest of his things and leave his key.

Sofia stayed there for 3 months. She was certain that Marshall would come around, at least to talk to her about what would happen after the paternity tests. That even with the chance that it was his, he’d be there in some way. She also told her ex of the possibility of him being the father. He surprised her by not freaking out too much at the news. He said that he’d help her out however he could during the pregnancy and if the paternity test came back to say the kids were his, he’d help her to raise the child. Still, when the lease ran out and Marshall refused to talk to her, she decided to move back to Wakefield to be close to her family. Her ex helped her move and even stayed around town for a few weeks while she got settled in. He offered to stay and help her raise the children, regardless of the paternity results, but Sofia knew he had a life back in LA and didn’t want to trap him. He reluctantly went back with plans to return closer to her due date.

She had a baby boy and a baby girl. They were premature, as sometimes twins are, but overall they were healthy and so was she. Her ex came to town, arriving two hours after they were born, but refused the paternity test. He said that he wanted to be there for them regardless and didn’t want them to ever feel like he had been obligated to be there. And when she tried to reach out to Marshall, his phone was shut off. None of their friends from LA had heard from him either. He’d apparently left LA shortly after he’d moved out and hadn’t been heard from again. His parents no longer lived in Wakefield, so she had little way of getting in touch with him. She was unsure of what to do, but was overwhelmed with being a new mom, so she allowed her ex to help her. They share a three bedroom apartment and co-parent the twins. His name is on their birth certificates. 

After having the twins and taking a bit to recuperate and bond, she began teaching dance at Acro Studios a few nights a week, taking on private lessons for piano in her apartment or at the student’s house, and, to have a steady income with health insurance, she became a secretary at Sutton Surgery when the position opened up. 

[theboombutton]

I posted 1,431 times in 2021

91 posts created (6%)

1340 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 14.7 posts.

I added 1,827 tags in 2021

#tma - 589 posts

#the magnus archives - 365 posts

#tma spoilers - 162 posts

#tmart - 131 posts

#tma shitpost - 116 posts

#jonmartin - 101 posts

#the silt verses - 99 posts

#jonathan sims - 99 posts

#tsv - 96 posts

#martin blackwood - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#even if they end up somewhere with humans they'll have a hell of a time relating to anyone else a fraction as well as they do to each other

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Thinking about The Magnus Archives season 5 and tragedy.

Seasons 1-3 work as a classic flaw-motivated tragedy, with Jon's primary fatal flaw changing more or less from season to season, but generally revolving around unwillingness to trust. Season 1 is driven by insecurity, which prevents him from forming trusting relationships with his co-workers and causes two of them to put themselves in extreme peril just in order to have evidence solid enough that he might believe them. In season 2 he spirals into full-blown paranoia. In season 3, he recognizes the depth of the shit he's in, but keeps himself isolated and therefore vulnerable out of a misguided, guilty intuition that letting anyone in on what he's doing will only expose them to more danger.

Just before the end of season 3, he recognizes that his unwillingness to trust is responsible for most of the mess that they're in, and he resolves to start trusting his team. But it's too late, and he dies - killed by the person who felt most betrayed by his lack of trust.

But then he comes back, and lack of trust isn't his tragic flaw anymore. If anything he trusts too much in season 4. He trusts that Martin knows what he's doing in working for Peter Lukas. He trusts Basira's bad leads and bad judgements. He's been reborn into a different character with a different fatal flaw.

Season 4 Jon's fatal flaw is his self-loathing, particularly regarding being a monster. He intentionally weakens himself because he feels guilty for how he needs to feed; he throws himself into dangerous, reckless situations out of penance; and he doesn't use his abilities in situations where using them would have given Elias's whole game away. And once again, it's just when he turns a new leaf - when he accepts his powers and uses them to save Martin - that the tragic consequences of his actions strike.

But what is his tragic flaw in season 5?

For a while it seemed like it might be guilt and grief; and then, for a little while, vengeance. But he turned away from both of these paths fairly quickly. The choices he's made this season haven't seemed to hurt anyone yet. He seems reasonably mentally healthy, under the circumstances. His primary motivation for most of the things he's done seems to have been to make Martin happy.

Is this season one great denoumont, and we're getting one final lap around the consequences of Jon's previous flaws before he makes good and dies? Is his attachment to Martin his fatal flaw for the season, destined to doom the world where e.g. Gertrude Robinson would have been able to pull the trigger? Or is this arc a tragedy only on a personal level, and the "flaw" is actually just the fact that he wants to set things right - will his success be tragic consequence enough?

114 notes • Posted 2021-02-01 05:52:44 GMT

#4

Here's a theory: TMA Vampires are Web, not Hunt.

Evidence:

They prevent you from noticing that they're not talking

They don't stalk or chase down their prey like you'd expect from a Hunter

Instead they invite you to their parlor(s)

And trap you there until they're ready to eat

They push impulses/ideas into your head

In MAG 56 Children of the Night Trevor Herbert explicitly compares the spider husk's compulsion to vampire compulsions

Perhaps because of all the statements about manipulation and mind control that use spider/web imagery, we've gotten lazy about identifying other sorts of manipulation and mind control as belonging to the Web.

And perhaps that's all according to plan.

142 notes • Posted 2021-06-13 01:05:04 GMT

#3

Too Complicated

I see a lot of people saying that Web couldn't turn Martin against Jon because they're in love, or because their love is too strong. Nah.

Annabelle says their relationship is now too complicated.

Contrast a hypothetical jmart of s1, or s2, or s3, or even early s4, if Jon had come out of the coma before Martin teamed up with Peter.

Martin spent three seasons pining, supporting, following - and, in his way, manipulating. Jon spent three seasons self-centered, viewing his relationships with other people primarily as being about who he could or could not trust, and who he had let down.

What a profoundly exploitable relationship dynamic they would have had, without the character growth of season 4!

Without:

Martin taking point instead of acting as support on someone else's plan.

Jon recognizing that Martin was taking the initiative, and learning how to trust and follow someone else's lead.

Martin experiencing what it's like to have someone backing him up for once, and learning that he can trust Jon to do so.

Jon learning how to sit in a bad situation while maintaining hope.

Martin learning to set boundaries

Jon being forced to respect those boundaries and learning it isn't the end of the world

This growth doesn't make them more in love than they would have been without it. Instead, it makes their relationship more mature. More flexible.

Without this growth, how would they have reacted to Annabelle turning Martin into a spider husk?

Martin would probably have tried to hide it. He would have tried to manipulate Jon into not looking - he wouldn't have gotten Jon to make that first promise about not Knowing, and so he would have had to improvise.

When Jon found out, he would have gone apeshit. First at Martin, for breaking his trust/acting like a spider through the very act of trying to hide it. Then his survivor's guilt and despair and impulsivity would have kicked in. I'd give greater than even odds that he would kill Martin outright, viewing him as either a monster-replacement or as someone who had never really been his ally.

With this growth, how would they have reacted to Annabelle turning Martin into a spider husk?

Martin wouldn't try to hide it - would actively try to reveal it, if his ability to just explain what was happening had been restricted by the Web. He would trust that Jon could handle it.

Jon would be horrified, but it would never cross his mind that Martin would have tried to hide it from him. He might still kill Martin, but only if he thought that's what pre-Spidering Martin would have wanted. He would be focused on what Martin would have wanted, not on his own pain and survivor's guilt.

143 notes • Posted 2021-02-26 03:28:54 GMT

#2

If I had a nickel for every time a Rusty Quill podcast had a curmudgeonly asexual biromantic man (whose hair color makes him look older than he is) retrieve his bitchy gay poet coworker love interest from a pocket dimension where they're the only people, by convincing him to come back with him by confessing his feelings, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.

534 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 08:12:34 GMT

#1

576 notes • Posted 2021-07-08 22:23:17 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[nervousllikeme]

i’ve been planning on building a computer for a few weeks and my direct deposit just came in so i bought my list. but i feel bad ig. i have a perkins loan they haven't given me notice about in months before the other day that i need to take care of, but i lost the late notice they sent the other day with my account number so i can’t make online payments until they either reply to my email asking for it or send a second late notice by mail. that shit stresses me out. that’s the only bill i’m behind on and i know it’s not enough to get me in trouble rn and i’ll take care of it asap but it gives me bad anxiety. i’m not sure if it’s better or worse that i don’t have any private loans.

at least i’m making enough for the rent/bills/food. it isn’t what i want to be doing at all, but it’s money. and if all goes well i’ll get promoted at the end of the month, which is a $2 raise. at least i’m not sleeping on the floor.

but i feel bad. spending money on wants instead of needs. not “saving” money, like my more well off friends talk about doing. but i’ve been poor my whole life. whatever “savings” i had had to go back into the household growing up; first/last/security when we got evicted, food, emergencies, whatever. and i got the privileged of going to college, an art school, mostly thanks to the government. and most of the people i was friends with were very well off if not flat out rich. and i always felt like the odd one out. the dirty, poor idiot who slept in her studio because she didn’t have the money to buy a train pass to go back to her sister’s house an hour away where she was staying.

and now i’m not doing shit with the degree i’m in debt because of. it’s only been a year and a half, maybe i shouldn’t be so hard on myself. i’m trying to do things i guess. getting a new computer means having an actual shot at working on stuff without constant crashes, freezing, lag, whatever. i’m trying to get into photography as best i can. i’m working with a friend on collabing on something. i’ve got the podcast i’m on. but i just can’t seem to focus on anything but my source of income being based in the lower rungs of the food industry and i’m working full time at it. and also i have no friends. but buying things for me, the computer, could be an incentive to want to actually live again. if i have a new computer that works, i can play games and do other things i want to do. i can be content. if i’m content, i’ll be okay at work. if i’m okay at work, i can make more money. if i make more money, i can go see doctors and not stress if the copay is going to take away from money to live. that doesn’t solve the friend thing, which is a huge hole in my life.

the collab thing is reconnecting me with someone...that i’m not sure it’s a good idea to reconnect with. a really rocky relationship that i feel a lot of shame about because i should’ve gotten help sooner and not do things that i did. story of my life. but she approached me. so i don’t know, whatever. i have to write a few letters to people but i’ve been feeling like such shit and my carpal tunnel is making things impossible when i try to write for more than a few minutes at a time, with and without my brace on. i haven’t made friends out here, i’m friendly with my co-workers sure but we don’t hang out. i don’t have a car with seems to be a social problem out here. i’ve felt so completely empty the past...well, year. very lonely. it goes away sometimes. i’m at an away time right now.

i don’t know if i’m managing my bpd all that well. i guess not. i’m trying to and trying to think through things as they’re happening or tell myself to hold on until i get home so i can think about it. but it’s hard with no support system. but if i do have people close to me, i’m still at a stage where i don’t think enough and say bad things. but let’s be real, i was dumped by a lot of my friends around this time last year. suddenly, i had people telling me that they didn’t want to enable me and that turned into ignoring me. and with that sudden abandonment i just hurt so much and i isolated myself and moved 2,000 miles away eventually. So i’m not sure how it would be to get back into a group of people. My best friend said that i’m easily triggered, and i knew that it would happen whenever we hung out. everything would be fine but then with no warning i’d “shut down” on the outside, stop talking and look serious etc. On the inside i’d realize whatever situation i was in and would start to spiral down. Most of the time this would happen when hanging out at my best friend’s house with her roommates who I was friends with too and I’d be third, fifth, seventh wheeling it most of the time. and ofc they all straight and i feel highly uncomfortable around cis straight guys (which is a whole trigger itself). I’d just start to feel on the outside of whatever was happening, outside of the conversation, and i’d “shut down”. and i eventually i realized this and that was another contributing factor into my whole isolation thing. i became, in my own mind, impossible to hang out with. i’d always get triggered somehow if i wasn’t already sad and irritable before hanging out. and i tried to limit my interaction with my friends. and as i said earlier, they began to limit it with me. so that’s how i spent about eight months completely alone apart from sometimes talking to my internet friends and having to work ofc.

i’ve had a few people throughout my life tell me that they feel like they trigger me. and that feels like shit. i’m not sure what to do about that. i guess communicate more. it’s hard to admit that i have feelings, let alone what kind they are. and i always, always, always forget. even if i keep a journal, i forget. whatever i’ve written sounds like it’s someone else and i guess in a meta sense it is, i’m not who i was months, weeks, days ago. i feel like a human catch-22. needs a support system in order to get better, but everyone i love will deeply hurt me no matter what and i will hurt them too. i don’t know what to do. i guess a therapy animal is a start. i don’t want to go through all the red tape and paperwork in order to do that with my apartment building though. and i’m not sure if i can take care of other living being, i can’t take care of myself. and can i be able to afford a pet anyway? if i have to move, will i be able to find a place where i can have it?

i’m not sure if it’s a good thing to let new people into my life or try to repair things with the old people. but i’m not sure that being completely alone is okay. i don’t want to hurt anymore. i don’t want to breathe in blood when i think about my utter loneliness anymore. but i don’t want to hurt anyone. i don’t want to grow close with someone only to have it disintegrate before i can put the fires out. 

[thepowerofyourotherhand]

Sheltering-in-place: Finding Inner Freedom Through the Non-dominant Hand

In early March, before shelter-in-place became “a thing,” I was already doing it. Having survived a horrible case of the Hong Kong flu in 1968, I didn’t want this virus anywhere near me. I was familiar with the 1918-19 influenza outbreak in Los Angeles. My mother, a preschooler at the time, had carried vivid memories of those terrible times, which she shared with me. I researched as much information as possible about COVID-19 and, in the process, learned about quarantine strategies that had worked effectively in past pandemics. I learned that San Francisco had been largely spared in 1918 because of a robust quarantine policy put in place right away. When they eased up on it too soon, they were hit hard by a second wave. Sometime in early March, we began staying at home and only going out for essentials. I had worked at home for all my adult life, when I wasn’t on an occasional book or workshops tour. But this was different. On March 11, I expressed my feelings about voluntarily being at home all day and night and limiting contact with others. Using both hands, I drew this maze-like scribble.

I was able to express the feelings of being contained and protected but at the same time held in. As I drew the concentric circles inside the enclosure, it felt like going around in circles inside the enclosed space. The drawing expressed all the feelings I was having at the prospect of staying at home all the time. We had also been having raining days, so that familiar “stir crazy” sensation of being cooped up inside due to cold, wet weather was there as well. The next drawing I did was a scribble pattern that felt like the chaos that was being unleashed in the world as COIVD-19 swept across Asia and was making its way down the west coast of the US. After scribbling with both hands for a while, my dominant hand began doing its own thing by coloring in the natural loops created by the scribble pattern. This is an old tried-and-true warm up activity used by art therapists, but now it took on a whole new meaning. This felt like people in quarantine sequestering in their own separate spaces. They were all floating in the chaos, but contained in their own quarters. I wrote the words, “quarantined COVID”.

On the same day I drew what felt like scribbled chaos in orange (using both hands) followed by a brown cage-like grid. Were the cage bars somehow an attempt to contain the chaos? Or were they standing between me and the chaos, protecting me from it? Perhaps both. We know that staying at home protects us, but also protects others if we are carrying the virus.

Writing with my non-dominant hand, I inadvertently misspelled quarantined as quaranteened. Later, I recalled having a serious case of bronchitis when I was seventeen, followed by measles, and having to be in bed for many weeks. The present was triggering a past trauma. This kind of double entendre happens all the time with the non-dominant hand-writing. The unconscious knows what it knows, even if we don’t. And it will “blurt” it out through the non-dominant hand in words and in drawing. I did many drawings that day, and more scribbling with both hands that looked like quarantine in times of chaos.

By contrast, another drawing done that day was a harbinger of good things to come. A dynamic blue and green container holds a bright, flowing yellow light.

When the official sheltering-in-place announcement was made by our Governor to begin on March 19, I was ready. I saw it as an opportunity to use the extra time on my hands to do journaling. As anyone who knows my work is aware, journaling is my personal therapy, meditative practice, refuge in the storm, and creative incubator. It has certainly been all of that and more during these trying times. On April 5, after two weeks of the official shelter-in-place mandate, I decided to draw out my feelings about staying at home all day every day. My non-dominant hand grabbed a black marker and started at the center working outward forming a square-ish spiral. From there I continued with brown maze-like lines expanding out from the center spiral. The final black lines on the perimeter felt like an outer protection for the inner space.

This was followed by a two-handed dialogue with the drawing. My dominant hand asked the questions (in brown). My non-dominant hand answered in black. What are you? I’m the insides. Your insides. All cooped up inside you. ON this gray dark rainy day.  How do you feel?  Grounded. Like when we were kids. Couldn’t go out on rainy days. We felt restless + stir crazy like now, like all these days of staying home. I feel sad, too.  Why do you feel this way?  Cuz of COVID19 we are staying home – we’ve been staying put for over 2 weeks now. Even when it’s not raining like today. I miss doing things + going places we always did before. Like going out for lunch or dinner, going to the gym for exercise every week, getting coffee at the coffee shop near the gym – they closed down now. Going to the local shops. Can’t do any of that… I really miss that.  And I miss seeing all the people in town – friends, shop-keepers, and visiting with them. It’s like a ghost town in town. Empty. Only the bank + grocery stores + gas stations open.  I’m so glad the ice cream parlor on the west end of town has been open. When we got a cone there last week I though, THIS is definitely a necessity. Ice cream is essential right now. That made me feel happy. If I couldn’t have my ice-blended latte from the coffee shop, I could at least have a coffee ice cream cone! But I had to eat it outside, alone on the sidewalk because everything is take-out these days. And I was the only one on the street. Just me and a couple of cars passing by.  What can I do to help you? What do you need from me? Exercise at home on the little trampoline some more. We started that last week but I need to do that more and longer periods of time. I like doing the walking, a little jumping, and dancing on it to music.  Also, keep letting feelings out by “dancing on paper.” Scribbling and drawing to music in the journal here. And even on big paper.  Is there anything else? Yes. Call friends and stay in touch. It’s OK to email, but I like hearing the voices of friends + family + co-worker. Skyping is good, too.  Also, I miss eating out. So do what you did yesterday and get take out. It’s like “Dining out at home.” And it feels good to help the restaurant folks. It keeps them working. And we have to help each other. That feels really good, especially right now. I’m glad we donated to NOKIDHUNGRY.COM. THE IDEA OF KIDS GOING HUNGRY OR ANYONE GOING HUNGRY REALLY MAKES ME SAD. So donate + help others. That feels better to do that.  I’m glad we can help others when we do work as a therapist on the phone + Skype. And when we do group calls for CJEA or interviews + podcasts + YouTube videos. Helping others helps me. And sheltering in place helps everyone.  Lucia Let us know what you think of this post in the comments below. Follow us and be updated by email when new blog posts are published.   www.luciac.com www.visioningcoach.org Order The Power of Your Other Hand (Conari Press 2019) at Amazon.com via Blogger https://ift.tt/3aUWbo6

[choosehereveryday]

Week 1

What brought me in? What made you decide it was time to take action?

I lost really important relationships because of my anxiety that triggers crazy manic behavior, I have gotten violent I have hurt people close to me and tried hurting myself and I’m trying to do anything to feel better. Every day now I am severely depressed, I miss my previous partner so much and crave the communication and relationship we once had. And I want to learn to how to battle my triggers so I can be a better partner/friend/person, and generally survive in society with myself with minimal or no severe manic episodes.

Strengths

Charismatic, funny

Resilient

Self-sufficient

Street smart

Adabptable

How ________ effects my well being?

Intimate Relationships: Currently technically have none but my previous partner still weighs heavily on my mind constantly, I have spent days in bed crying and trying to find ways to be okay with literally no prevail I feel hopeless missing her so much, it hurts to even write this.

Friends: I feel as though I have lost a lot of friendships and invested my time into ones that don’t always benefit me.

I have a few friends at work who I would really consider my best friends, whether they think the same of me or not I’m not sure. Which doesn’t really bother me because they give me a nice release and I feel comfortable around them not comfortable enough to go to them when I am upset but just enough so I can say I am having a bad day and Dan will send me gifs and memes and sometimes we take walks that get me out of the office and to stop crying at work. Also all amazing and trusted people to bitch about the stresses of work too!

I really want to reach out to new circles because I am really tired of feeling insignificant in my friends lives and even being invited to a festival in a group and knowing they have a group chat but not being apart of it. I am taking everything as a grain of salt but life has been very lonely lately and I haven’t really done anything at all. I feel guilty every time I go out somewhere like I’m gonna get in trouble or if Erin found out she would be triggered and even though she obviously doesn’t want to talk to me I still cant help but worry it will hurt her and in turn me.

Family My family and I are not close and I guess eventually once I’m healthy again and consistent in my relationships I would love to grow closer with them again.

My dad stresses me out I feel unloved and undervalued by him, I don’t know if it is solely just mistakes I have made or his harsh outlook on life but he communicates and makes me feel so degraded and worthless.

My mom is just so aloof with me, she left while I was 15 and never contacted me till years later when she just showed up at my graduation and then again the same year a few months later on my birthday because I was leaving for the military, she is my mom and I find some comfort in her but I also don’t care to have a relationship with her because it is very one sided, and it is not that way with my sister and that deeply hurts me.

My Grandma I miss her so much she passed away a few years ago and since that moment everything has been a blur i really just whole heartily think she could help and having a family member as constant as her would be so fucking nice most days and I cry out for her, I miss her so much when I am feeling like I cant cope. Sometimes I feel like its just because she is there and is trying to calm me down but I don’t know if that sounds crazy I just take comfort in her spirit

My other (living) grandma, I feel guilt that I am not spending more time with her but I don’t care as passionately for her as I did my other grandma and she always makes snarky remarks and its really hard to communicate and stuff with her. But she is top priority on my list to reconnect with

My sister, I run to her on my really bad days and she has saved my life without knowing it many times by just being available to sit with she and I get along really well but again our relationship feels forced and one sided there are a lot of things that have happened and that I simply think we both point the finger at the other for that I don’t think will ever change.

Do you have a strong group of friends? Do you seem them as much as you’d want? Have they been effected by your anxiety and or depression?

I don’t have a group of friends I can just call up and get together with or even really a single person like that right now and its really killing me, as an adult you cant just accrue those friendships as easily either and I really miss having a solid group of people, I think I have an issue being alone somewhat, while at the same time I literally do not experience anxiety going out in public alone, I have gone to dinners alone, and honestly found it to be enjoyable. So I am not sure exactly where my anxiety gets triggered from being alone, I think its human touch. But also I do not feel comfortable having anyone else touch me whatsoever.

Work Life: I find work work to be somewhat the only positive, while processes and management can be aggravating I find it to be a copiable feel and easily can vent it out. My co workers fill me with lots of laughs and an outlet for good conversation and like mentioned above I feel comfortable with them almost the most right now. I also love my job and feel like if I can make it full time with my upcoming interviews I could be my dream job and its been easier then ever to save money and no long live pay check to pay check

Faith, Meaning, Expansion Becoming more zen and more in tune with the world is becoming really important to me I always resonated with higher vibrations and I want to start tuning into those more, times when I did I was happiest, most healthy and least manic. I have been meditating every day and spending tons of time thinking and writing and creating when I can, becoming healthier physically emotionally and spiritually is something I’m trying to take in strides but one day at a time. But I want to learn more about energies and crystals as cliche as it sound and surround myself with healing energies.

What moves me? What are things I am passionate about?

I am moved by success, I find it fulfilling to explore and to see others explore, I want to always take joy in others accomplish really cool things and go really cool places, sometimes my jealousy and my own self has held me back from doing the things I always hoped I would be doing in my 20’s and I really am hoping to start getting out and seeing the world more now that I am not in a relationship. I also am passionate about weed and find it so interesting to learn about and have expanded my knowledge so much and I am using that as drive to grow in my current job because I do have the potential and that would make me happy. Also having money and the freedoms this job could give me to travel are huge.

Physical health:I walk a lot while getting to and from work I find joy in it and have noticed as I walk up certain hills that used to make me extremely winded I am able to glide up them. I have always be fairly athletic and happy with my body because of it and it is easy to remain and become toned which is another goal, possible plan to get into lifting eventually or join a crossfire gym.

Eating habits: it really varies I was over eating one week and this week I have found it very hard to acquire and appetite or motivation to cook meals, the week before this I bought Tupperware though made meals for the whole week stuck to it and was eating fairly healthy which is a new habit for me since leaving my relationship, we ate out a lot and I was much more willing to just grab a quick bite when I had her to share it with.

Substance Use: I used to have a huge issue with drinking and I ended up basically going to jail because I was so drunk and out of control and currently have a non-conditional probation, but since then I have spent 3-4 months being completely sober and then slowly started wanting to drink more and a lot of problems between my ex spiraled from that. She wouldn’t allow me to drink at all and it wasn’t even that I wanted to so badly, I just wasn’t going to be told that I couldn’t and especially since I know I have a hold on myself while drinking, I fought her on it and lied to her and would betray her trust, but I just never thought it was necessary anymore like she did, I enjoy drinking every so often and think that it is okay but could never come out on the top of that conversation with her.

Sleep I normally spend my nights trying to become as tired as possible so I can fall asleep without thinking about missing Erin, I have terrible ptsd/sleep paralysis/intense anxiety around my dreams and I just really loved having her to wake up next to I slept so well next to her I felt so whole when I would get to hold her in my arms. I miss that I wake up EVERY night at 5-6 am and I cannot get back to sleep even though I could just try and go to work I lay in bed for hours trying to find motivation. My bedroom has become my sanctuary.

Recreation, Relaxation, What do you like doing tn your free time:? I love going out and enjoying social environments and doing activities with lots of laughing and good times, I love going outside and just enjoying nature like hiking can be cool but even just sitting at the beach and looking out at a really nice view. I spend a lot of time on my phone to relax and occupy my mind. I want to travel more and go places I have never been more.

I am trying to not stress myself out and cause panic though so I am really staying in a lot and when I go out its normally just myself or its somewhere where I am free to leave whenever I please without feeling bad.

GOALS FOR 7 WEEKS

Feel less anxious and depressed

Have the ability to go to Erin with some change and hope it helps or the ability to find a way to move on more effectively

Feel more comfortable going out and finding people I am comfortable with besides co-workers that can commit time to me

Become lighter and less suicidal on my bad days

Feel more comfortable in general with my life the way it is/going to be now.

Reminder for this week:

Review goals

Use reminders in calendar Remind self of goals

Log your time in Daily activities form

[newssplashy]

I’d driven nearly an hour to get to him for multiple appointments, but that day, I vowed I’d never go back. It was all I could do to get to my car before I burst into tears.

“You know what I think? You’re very emotional.” Those were the words of a specialist I’d sought out months into an agonizing battle with chronic pain-and no answers.

I’d driven nearly an hour to get to him for multiple appointments, but that day, I vowed I’d never go back. It was all I could do to get to my car before I burst into tears.

'Searing Pain In One Eye'

Let's backtrack a bit: My chronic pain began months earlier, in February of 2010 when, one night, I was jolted awake with searing pain in one eye-It felt as if someone was slashing my eyeball with a hot poker.

I stumbled through the darkness, into my bathroom in search of eye drops, which I thought would dull the pain. No such luck-the pain lingered for hours and soon it was time for me to get up and head to work.

It was an odd experience, and one I couldn’t explain. I gladly put it behind me until days later, when it happened again. Hunched over in agony, I prayed for relief. It didn’t come quickly. I made an appointment with my optometrist the minute his office opened.

After a thorough examination, he warned I was heading into a period in my life (I was 39 at the time-just another perk of getting older) when dry eyes were likely to be a problem for me. That, combined with decades of wearing contact lenses, meant I’d need to find ways to rest my eyes.

 He couldn’t explain the intense pain, but he acknowledged that I was suffering during those episodes. When it happened again, he counseled me to look for a specialist.

As I searched for someone who would be able to treat me, the eye pain got worse, showing up more and more often at night, but not as much during the day.

I started wearing my contacts overnight-something ophthalmologists vehemently warn against-because, oddly enough, I didn't get the nighttime attacks when I wore them.

"I was desperate for sleep, but I knew there was a good chance I’d wake up in excruciating pain."

I explained these unusual symptoms to the highly recommended specialist I’d found-the same one I referenced earlier-and he didn’t offer me much of a diagnosis. Instead, he made a couple of suggestions to lessen the pain and asked me to come back after some time had passed.

Losing All Hope For Answers

Before that next visit, things worsened significantly. I began experiencing pain nearly all the time, often with double-vision.

With the worsening pain also came exhaustion. I was desperate for sleep, but I also knew there was a good chance I’d likely wake up in excruciating pain. Every day simply became about survival.

Only my husband had any clue what I was living through. I tried to hide it from my co-workers, family, and friends because I literally didn’t have the words to explain what my life had become. Without a diagnosis, I felt no hope of finding a cure-or method to cope.

I laid out my daily struggle when I returned to the specialist, only to have him brush aside my concerns and diagnose me as “emotional.”

Damn right I was-chronic pain can do that do a person.

His words spun me into a months-long spiral into a very dark place I wasn’t sure I’d ever escape from. For a long time after that appointment, I gave up hope that I'd find a doctor who could help.

" I couldn’t imagine living another 40 years in endless pain and debilitating fatigue."

Instead, I took to the Internet; I searched web sites, chat rooms, medical journals-anything that might hold a clue.

I began to find others with similar symptoms. As they talked about being turned away from emergency rooms and doctors’ offices, I felt I’d found my tribe. These people understood. They also talked about the only thing that felt hopeful: ending their pain by ending their lives.

I totally got it. There were many times I couldn’t imagine living another 40 years in endless pain and debilitating fatigue. Sometimes, I couldn’t see my way through the next 40 seconds. The only thing that kept me going was thinking about how my family and friends would cope if I left them behind.

 When I told my husband how I was feeling, he took it in without judgment. He vowed we’d spend every penny we had and search the world until we found a doctor who took my situation seriously and we had a concrete diagnosis. This happened on a Sunday, so I told myself, “Make it to Monday morning, and we’ll start working the phones.”

After Two Years Of Misery, A Diagnosis

The next day, I started scouring the web for physician qualifications and reviews again, and I found a Thomas Clinch, M.D., an ophthalmologist and world-class cornea specialist in Washington, D.C., where I live.

Patient reviews noted his comprehensive treatment and attentive manner. But still, before calling, I coached myself, “Keep it together. You don’t want them to think you’re crazy.”

The receptionist listened carefully and asked if she could place me on hold. She returned to tell me she had a cancellation for the next day. For what I hoped would be the last time, I told myself, “Just make it through one more night.”

I arrived at my appointment riddled with anxiety but was quickly put at ease by the assistant who did my initial assessment. When the doctor finally arrived, having reviewed my file, he said something I never thought I'd hear: “I know what you have.” It was all I could do not to break down crying.

"The surface of my eye was actually adhering to my eyelid."

After examining my eyes for himself, he stood by his diagnosis: epithelial basement membrane dystrophy and recurrent corneal erosions.

Basically, I suffer from a genetic condition that causes my corneas to tear all the time. If it's happened to you even once, you know how agonizing it can be-for me, it was happening on a daily basis.

The surface cells on my eyes don’t root back into my eyeball like a normal person’s do. Instead, they want to pull off. At night, the surface of my eye was actually adhering to my eyelid. Once that happened, any movement would cause a tear and trigger nearly indescribable pain.

Clinch threw me my first lifeline nearly two years into this difficult journey, one I truly wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. He talked about the levels of treatment options we could explore and then dropped a bomb I wasn’t expecting. “You should know,” he said softly, “there’s no cure.”

I didn’t hear anything else he said that day, but I did go back; and what I missed was important: There are ways to manage the condition, like therapeutic contact lenses or topical antibiotic eyedrops.

Finally, Learning To Manage My Condition

For years, Clinch and I have worked as teammates to find solutions and work through the rough patches. He has listened, advised, and nudged me to try new ways to work around the fact that there’s no cure.

 In the fall of 2017, I had a surgery that can be described as the closest thing to a cure without actually being one. The recovery was complicated, painful, and slow, but I’m on the other side now.

My eyes will never be perfect and totally pain-free, but thanks to a caring physician who met me halfway in a very difficult time, I feel the best I’ve felt in years.

Instead of just surviving life and hoping to make it through one more day, I live my life with joy now, and I'm incredibly grateful.

I've also learned a lot-but one thing sticks out the most: You must be your own fiercest advocate when it comes to your health. Walk away from medical professionals who dismiss your concerns, and don’t quit searching until you find someone who will truly partner with you to find the answers you deserve.

Shannon Bream is anchor of FOX News @ Night with Shannon Bream (weeknights at 11PM/ET). Follow her on Twitter @ShannonBream.

via Latest Nigerian News Online-Nigerian News,World Newspaper

[brucebai]

The mystery of work-life balance

The mystery of work-life balance http://ift.tt/2tN8pym

This was first published on my mailing list The Looking Glass. Every week, I answer a reader’s question.

Photo by James Cridland

How can I achieve work-life balance?

My office has a culture of being “always on”, where people will send e-mails at all hours expecting a response. I care about our company and want to advance my career, but I also enjoy doing other things, and want to spend evenings and weekends with my husband and friends. Also, I want to have kids soon, but I already feel guilty that I’m not working hard enough. How can I achieve work-life balance and not get too stressed out?

This felt like an appropriate question for this week, as I’m writing this from a plane flying to Paris. My husband and I have been dreaming of spending time in Europe for an extended vacation, but we’ve never managed to make it happen. Now that we have two kids, the idea of bonding as a family and creating memories together feels even more important, so we’re pulling the trigger. For the next five weeks, we’ll be together with our two kids and my parents visiting Paris, Ireland, Barcelona, and Switzerland. Wish us luck!

Your situation sounds so familiar, and is a common challenge especially in Silicon Valley. Work-life balance is a struggle at every stage in one’s career. Whether you’re just starting out in your first job and want to prove yourself, or you’ve taken on more responsibility and need to follow through, there never seems to be enough hours in the day. In my first few years out of college, I’d regularly stay at the office until past two or three am eating junky snacks at my desk instead of proper meals. I’d barely respond to messages from my friends, let alone see them. Of course this turned out to be unsustainable and unsatisfying, and in the years since I’ve built up some tactics for getting to better work-life balance:

Realize it’s all in your head: Everyone’s work environment is different, so if you happen to be in a particularly intense workplace where you’re being explicitly told to work at all hours, that’s rough. Most enlightened employers realize that success is a long journey, won over years of dedication, not a few intense all-nighters. As a result, even in my most unbalanced times, most of the pressure was internal. It’s mainly my own expectations that drove me to think, “I need to respond to this e-mail right now” even when now was Saturday evening at 9pm. Realizing this was self-imposed freed me up to take control of the situation.

Set clear boundaries: The first step is setting clear boundaries with yourself and sticking to them. For me, that self-agreement is often “I’m leaving the office at 6pm, and will only do one hour of work from 9pm to 10.” Make your boundaries clear to your co-workers as well. Discuss this openly with your manager to ensure you have her or his support, and take into account any concerns. There may need to be exceptions to your boundaries, and emergencies can always happen, but it’s good to be explicit about what these situations are, e.g. the site is down, tomorrow is launch day, a teammate needs you to unblock them, etc… That way, you can have a framework for how to decide that something requires your immediate attention. Then, in all other cases, it’s like texting in a movie theater: it can wait!

Set clear, realistic goals: The concept of “balance” implies there are competing forces, each pulling in different directions. However, if you don’t actually know what you’re trying to accomplish, both professionally and personally, then it’s easy to fall into the trap of working all the time. After all, if you have no way of knowing when you’ve “achieved your goal”, then work can be an endless treadmill of tasks. Similarly, if you haven’t set goals around your personal interests or relationships, it’s easy to neglect them, as they might feel less necessary than work. Make a conscious decision around how you want to spend your life with the limited time you have, balancing what would make you feel successful in work and what you’d find personally enriching. For me, vacations, friends, and eating well fill me up, so I take at least one weekend trip every month and plan ahead to see friends often for dinner at some new restaurant we’re excited to check out.

Minimize distractions: Since you don’t plan to work 24/7, you’ll need to be efficient in the hours you do spend working. The stress from work-life imbalance comes when you aren’t spending your time the way you want. I block out my day at work explicitly, with goals for every 30-minute chunk, and then I do everything in my power to stay focused. When you’re home, actually be fully at home. For me, I use a different computer so I can focus on writing, photo editing, or other personal tasks where I don’t need to be on VPN or have my e-mail one cmd-tab away. Sure, my phone can still ping me, but a quick glance will reveal if any messages qualify as an “exception” that requires my response — they usually don’t. When I really want to give myself the best chance of focusing, I turn off notifications or go on airplane mode. And for goodness sake, please don’t look at your phone while you’re out with friends — that’s not the point.

Prioritize quality over quantity in all things: What can you do with a few hours or a day that would be truly memorable? My husband and I will often throw at each other “life’s too short to watch anything you don’t truly love” which means we’ve watched the first episode of dozens of shows, but actually only followed through on a tiny handful (Game of Thrones, Sherlock, Death Note). We call each other out when one of us seems to be stuck in an Internet click spiral. With my children, I try to find new experiences that we can enjoy together. If it’s between going to a playground we’ve gone to before or traveling to a new playground, we’ll usually opt for the latter.

Get all the help you can: Since you mentioned starting a family, the main advice I can offer here is getting help. Having a partner who is a true partner, family nearby who can share the load, and a fully loaded spectrum of friends/daycare/nanny/baby-sitting/backup options to call upon when work or life pulls you away is hugely important. You don’t have to do it all yourself, and you don’t have to be perfect. Admitting that I needed help and training myself to ask for it was the most valuable lesson I learned in my first year as a parent.

Get enough sleep: Recognizing that stress is all in your head, you need to treat your head right. For me, that means getting enough sleep. I want to preface this by saying that I am the worst at going to sleep on time. For years, I’d set an 11:00pm bedtime and promptly blow through it every single night, fueled by some mysterious reservoir of late-night energy, even when I promised myself that tomorrow would be different. About six months ago, I made a breakthrough by going kindergarten-style with a star chart on my closet wall tracking whether I’ve put my head on the pillow each night by 11pm. It’s made me much better about bedtime (although in the spirit of transparency I must admit that I’ve slipped in the past month.) When I manage to get a full eight hours of sleep, I feel much better equipped to handle my day and whatever little hurdles pop up in front of me.

Take time to look back: I can tell when I’m slipping into a state of imbalance when I look back at the past month and I have trouble recalling what I did. I don’t want to just go through the motions of getting through the day, the week, or the month. Instead, I want to make memories and appreciate them. One of the ways I’ve found to best do that is through writing and journaling, as well as taking lots of photos and videos. I write about what I’m learning with my kids every month. I keep a private journal called “Life Memories” that I imagine our family reading a decade into the future. My friends know me as “the paparazzi” in all our outings because of how many photos I take. I love looking back and cherishing past events, and looking back also motivates me to plan my coming year and get the most out of it. Like spending five weeks in Europe :-)

To ask a question or follow along weekly with more Q&As like this, subscribe to The Looking Glass mailing list.

The mystery of work-life balance was originally published in The Year of the Looking Glass on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

BruceFav Bloggers via FB Designer Julie Zhuo on Medium http://ift.tt/2bdAnHn July 5, 2017 at 12:24AM