#being chronically ill the last few years made it so much worse because now it’s happening to me more directly. lol

[heartual]

calling my doctors office on a whim to set up my appointment before i talk myself out of it and their office is closed boooo

[growsagain]

Important Health Update - Please Read 🩵

Hi everyone,

I hate making posts like this, I know this isn’t a fun post, it’s not what you’re here for (it’s not what I’m here for either!) But behind every content creator is a real person with a real life, real health issues and real problems, and sometimes we need to keep you in the loop, both so you know why things have changed and because we need support now and then, whether we want to admit it or not 🩵

I’ve been basically walking around with full-blown meningitis for the last 4 months. It’s been impossible to take time off and I’ve been working 12 hour days much of the time. I’ve been doing all I can aside from resting to try to recover but every time I felt like I was making progress I relapsed again, especially every time I filmed content after which I crashed hard. I’ve been in chronic pain for 30 years but since March I’ve been in the worst, constant pain of my life.

My medical issues are interconnected and complex. The crohns stuff improves when I’m able to eat well but the nausea from the meningitis and pain has made eating harder and harder over the last few months. When your work revolves around you eating lots and getting fat that’s definitely not ideal but just feeling all the healing and progress I made at the start of the year reverse to the point where I’m spending hours and hours again in agony on the bathroom, getting weaker and weaker, crawling back through the caravan because I’m too exhausted to stand - it’s been heartbreaking. I thought I was finally getting somewhere. 

When I’m in pain I can’t eat, when I don’t eat the crohns gets worse, when the crohns gets worse I can’t process my food or meds properly and then my health gets worse - it’s a vicious cycle and there’s only one thing that has proven to stop that, which is a high dose of steroids. While I was initially prescribed them for crohns they have proven to control several of my other conditions, and they suppress the meningitis. 

I’ve been suffering bouts of recurrent meningitis since late 2015. My diagnosis has now been revised to chronic meningitis. Reluctantly I’ve agreed to an extended high dose of steroids, without intending to taper them this time. This is a last ditch attempt to avoid a lengthy hospital stay. I HATE hospitals, I’ve had some really bad experiences and I’ll do anything to avoid them. I always end up in a worse state than when I went in. 

There are side effects to the steroids; some good and some bad. The worst one is the swelling around my face and neck. I understand some of you like that and see it as just weight gain, but at the risk of sounding weak and vulnerable I ask you to please not bring it up, even if you intend it as a compliment. That’s not what my face looks like through weight gain alone, it can be very painful and tender, I feel ugly and hate showing my face on camera when it’s like that. There’s also nasty effects on my skin and hair and bad insomnia, plus all kinds of other stuff that’s less troublesome but I’d rather not have to deal with again and there are also risks with being on steroids long term but each time I’ve tapered down or off I become seriously ill so at this point it’s worth the trade off. 

There are positive side effects too. Some of which hopefully you will enjoy as much as I will. Aside from generally getting better they DO suppress a bunch of other conditions so I generally have a lot more energy and strength and can generally do more and work more. But the biggest thing is the appetite boost, especially as my body heals. Usually after being on the high dose for about 2 weeks I get a massive spike in hunger and each time that’s happened I’ve ended up making HUGE gains! And when I’m eating so much more I’m able to make a bunch of extra content. After literally having to force myself to eat for the last few months I can’t wait to actually ENJOY FOOD AGAIN 🤗🤗🤗

I try to stay upbeat and bright in my posts as much as I can but it’s been hard to keep doing that lately. I couldn’t be more humbled by how kind and supportive you’ve been over not just the last few months but the 11 years I’ve been making belly content. Thank you for being amazing, and I’ll always try hard to make the best videos I can in return. This community means SO much to me 💙 

[hansel-and-gretel]

S1CK 1N G3N3R4L!!

So, this is a small fic of an OC of mine featured in the last fic I wrote. This one is for the ROTTMNT verse! I am sick rn so I wrote this because I projected too much making her and now she's a medical mess. Anyway, hope you enjoy! BTW I didn't proof read so sorry for spelling mistakes.

Makoto had come to terms that she might never be cured of what ever is was that made her sick so much. The doctors didn’t know or just wrote it off as her being a teenage girl, her eating habits, or just her one diagnosed chronic illness. She thought it was bearable, after all she had been like this for a few years; it was only natural for her to become used to the pain after so long. It started as small stomach aches to food, slowly spiraling into pain with everything else Makoto ate or drank; the smallest of things made pain, and the bigger portions made it worse for longer. The first medicine she was given only served to make her hungry and cause more pain; she stopped taking it after two weeks when it did nothing. It still isn’t known by anyone what’s wrong, it’s most likely not her chronic illness, stated by a doctor, but nothing seems wrong with anything else; it’s not her diet or this would’ve happened even more years ago.

Lately she’s been feeling sick and in pain for nothing. She’s recovering from an ear infection, and those can cause nausea, but it’s mostly gone… Makoto also noticed an increase in hunger or at least that’s what her stomach is telling her; it rumbles but she doesn’t really feel hungry. She once asked Donnie if maybe he could tell what’s wrong; he did however, say that she could possibly have a lot of other things wrong with her.

Makoto could tell it was not going to be a good day. She woke up nauseas and with a headache, going to school with a surprise pep rally made it worse; going to gym and doing the workout next thing wasn’t any better for her. The coaches didn’t even do the plan for today, just let the kids have free time; which would mean flying objects, and a higher chance of getting hit in the head. Makoto shielded her head every time something was thrown. She just asked to go the office, went with the nurse and was able to sit out for the rest of class. By the time lunch came, she felt a little better, but she just didn’t want to stay anymore, the kids were too loud, and eyes hurt. It wouldn’t be too bad to lie a little right? After all she was truly in pain; and she had the 1.00 needed for a bus ride home. Saying you’re lightheaded and dizzy and nauseas and have a headache is easy, getting the send home is not. Makoto had amazing acting skills however, and managed to get sent home; of course, her family didn’t know, so she couldn’t go home…she was only allowed to be taken to certain places on the bus; so, she just picked the one closer to the normal way she takes to the turtle’s lair, took the walk and was soon laid on the couch next to Leo. Makoto always felt better when she was with them; maybe it because they made her forget she was in pain, or maybe she just liked being with them, either way she felt better.

[neversam23]

Hello! No pressure to do this but if you’d like to, list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ✨

Thank you for this ask (first one ever! Yay!). I had an accident a long time ago and been stuck in chronic illness/pain-mode ever since, which means happy moments are extremely precious to me. Things got worse during the past few years and some of the things that make me happy are currently out of reach. But I’m going to list them anyway, because, well, the happy memories are still there and so it still counts :)

Writing I think I’m at my best and happiest when I’m writing. And so it hurts a lot that I haven’t been able to do that for a looong time (for different reasons). It feels like a part of me is missing, but I still remember the joy it brought. That moment, when you’re writing dialogue and you get the words right and you can actually “hear” your characters “talking”. That moment, when you don’t notice that you’re typing anymore and later, when you look up from the computer the tea has gone cold and hours have gone by. I’ve never felt more alive than when I was writing and telling stories. And one day I will hopefully get to do it again properly.

Photography I guess in a way, photography is about storytelling as well, about finding magic places and moments.

I used to do a lot of landscape and animal photography, but my body decided, that getting up at dawn and carrying heavy kit through forests and over hills was just not on anymore. So, I had to stop. I loved being out there in the forest on a cold winter morning. There’s no one there, just you and that peculiar soft winter silence, that you only get, when everything is covered in white. I miss it. But I found a type of photography that I can still do. So now I chase bugs and butterflies and any kind of creepy-crawly creature out there and I love it. It’s a tiny magical fascinating world and it teaches you looking at things from a different perspective.

Lego I have a little Lego-street and it’s filled with mini-figures and it’s so much fun to come up with little stories for them. Among the crowd are lot of characters from my favourite movies/tv-shows and books. Some of them are from official Lego sets or bought on the internet, but most are custom made, either using parts from various mini-figures or decals (which I'm still not very good at). I used decals for Crowley and Aziraphale. I love decorating the street for Halloween and Christmas every year, it’s become sort of a tradition. Aside from that I'm working on a Lego-Version of Whickber Street, which is a huge challenge, but lots of fun.

Nature I love being outdoors. I used to go hiking and walking every weekend, when I was still ok(ish). Used to go to all kinds of places, but forests were always my favourite. And if I found one with a little stream or even a waterfall, then I’d stay there from dusk till dawn. I can’t go far anymore, but even just half an hour walking in the woods behind my Mum’s house is something I look forward to every time. And animals. Animals make me happy. No matter if it’s a squirrel or a snail.

Kindness Especially on days when my own world feels small and empty and lonely and there’s nothing but work and pain and exhaustion, it’s kindness that brings a much needed smile to my face (and more often than not, a tear or two). Not kindness directed at me, but just: Seeing there’s still good out there. There’s still people who care about each other. Who offer a kind word of encouragement, or who help someone with a chore or a problem or who just say something funny to cheer someone up who needs it. And when it comes to random acts of kindness: this fandom is beyond amazing and it’s a privilege to hover at the edges and to be able to witness that every day.

[b-blushes]

chronic illness/disability stuff/woe

everything happens so much! I'd been putting off moving to the next dose of my migraine meds bc every time i do that i have to get bloods done to make sure it's not obliterating my organs or whatever and i am loathe to spend my one 'well enough to make a commitment to be able to leave the house' day that i get per week on yet another drs appointment. but i really need to get around to doing that and given that i feel so awful today i was like 'okay might as well do that because if i'm going to feel awful anyway i might as well make the adjustment now and just get over it' (like. if i'm feeling fine then i am happy to keep putting it off bc the aim is like, quality of life? and if i'm having good days then i am grasping every single one that comes to me) so in the meantime i was trying to just spend that day each week doing something nice instead of Being My Own Patient And Dr and trying to boost morale bc you know it's also bad for your physical health if you are miserable and stressed all the time! anyway looked at how long it had been since my last blood test. 'surely it was like 6 weeks, i've been really pushing it, a lot of time must have passed i've been trying so hard to keep a handle on things and yes i feel terrible now and i've overdone it but i *have* made some lovely memories'. hasn't even been 3 weeks 😭 i don't wanna be so ill all the time :( breaks my heart. i was talking to a family member about how things have been lately and they looked so defeated and were like 'it's just so sad' and i was like HELLO. yes but you're not supposed to say it lest i weep!!! :P (there is not really a good response though bc if people gloss over it it's really hurtful, bc, like, this is my reality. i guess i was just taken aback a bit at the reflection of how bleak things are bc it's just my everyday life and i'm making the best of it!) (i guess matter of fact-ness is my preference, rather than seeming more upset than me :P) anyway. it's fine. I have some really really lovely things lined up that i think i will be able to do (like, i have planned them to be within my 'normal' grasp, so hopefully i don't get worse in the next few weeks), i'm gonna cancel some other things i had planned by myself to focus any time i am doing Activities on spending time with my family and friends who i love! there are options for medical things, i have always got to remember that i have choices and i can act on them! even if they are between 'bad and less bad' rather than 'good and bad', there is agency to some degree! it's just a rough patch, i say, as if the last few years has not been a string of them :P BUT although heath things have been trending downwards, other things (like my mood in general! and my friendships!) have been trending upwards! so that's something! it probably won't be as bad as i fear, and the medical admin will probably be easier than i think, and i'll probably be able to change my prescription easier than i think, and uhhh some other things! it will be fine!

[neuroticboyfriend]

sending this story because I've told people about it before and not felt very vindicated, you seem like someone who could empathize with my position/situation at the time when we (system) were 14 we decided to take one last shot at therapy (long story short; forced into it before due to court orders, hated it, but were so miserable that it was a last resort type of deal). a few months afterward we were diagnosed with depression and anxiety and put on an antidepressant against our will. convo went something like this: doc: i want you to take this medication me: i don't want to take this medication doc: you should try this me: i don't... really want to? got prescribed anyway. after a week of being forced to take it by an unsupportive caregiver, and other life shit going wrong, we ended up in "grippy sock jail." like two days into that, this conversation happens. psych ward doc: i want you to take this medication. will you take it? me: no doc: you should take it. will you take it? me: no. doc: this will help you. do you want it? me: no doc: this will help. do you want to take it? me: no. he asked me a fifth time and I said "yes" because I knew that if I "resisted treatment" I would be stuck there longer, and I was in the middle of missing my exams for school and also less than a week away from Christmas Day. they then made me take the medication every day I was there. when we went home, our caregiver also made us take it and watched carefully to make sure we did. when we faked taking it, she noticed, and became enraged. we had one of the scariest nights of our life happen because we refused to take a medication we never consented to taking and were pressured (basically forced) to be on. we were never on those medications long enough to feel whatever effects they were supposed to have, thankfully, but just being on them and having our consent and autonomy violated in such a manner made our mental health issues x10 worse. we also discovered several years after this that the reason we felt so depressed in the first place was due to a hormone imbalance. now that it's medicated and treated, we don't want to die anymore. a chronic illness no one spotted until it was and that is a prime example of medical malpractice. we aren't schizophrenic nor do we have psychosis. but no one, NO ONE, should be forced to take medication against their will. psychiatric medication can hurt people, physically and mentally. on another note we were looking at medical records from a visit to the ER last year and saw that we were casually given prednisone, which is known to ruin people's health for the rest of their lives. but we didn't know that at the time. very grateful i decided not to take it anyway. and people wonder why I refuse to take anything besides my hormonal medication even when I'm in horrible pain or discomfort...

i havent the energy to reply to this well but i just want you to know i hear you and i do understand. the way psych patients are treated is awful and you deserved so much better.

[clydesavage-thefox147]

I made a drastic mistake on Twitter yesterday. I said something that came out wrong and I shouldn't have said it to begin with. I was thinking of deleting it the second after I sent it but I was in a panic. But once Thomas replied to it, I knew it was going to be over for me. The fandom already hates me for bs in the past so I was just ready to take the L. Thankfully, Thomas was understanding and we came to terms, I apologized and he took it well. So far, only blocked by three new people, two I followed for a while and commented under a lot. I know it's a consequence for an action I took. But, it was a mistake. I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did. I was panicked when I typed that.

I am not in any way a doctor and I know I shouldn't claim to be. But I was going off of what Thomas has told us about his condition to do my own research to not only calm my nerves but also out of concern for Thomas. From what he has said, he said it came from sickness and worsens with stress. It was on the rest of his body as well. My assumption is some type of hives. Again, not trying to know what I'm talking about, just going off what I've looked into. Chronic Hives lasts a few months to the longest a year. So, this could call for some projects being postponed or rescheduled. Another thing that I believe is common knowledge is that running anything over a rash like an electric shaver or razor would irritate the rash and make it worse. Just wanted to worn him it could cause more harm than good.

I was genuinely panicking over things for several reasons. One was the concern for Thomas. I didn't want him to make a poor decision of this. I know I'm not his friend and just a fan but even his fans have recommended him stuff before for just sicknesses. I was and still am afraid that he could inflame the rash and worsen it causing more pain to him plus possibly more insecurity. He said it himself that it would only be for a small timeframe for the rash to heal so it isn't a permanent choice at least I hope not. I feel like shaving it all off would make the rash more noticeable and would surely cause more insecurity on him. Weigh the odds. Shave and risk inflammation of the rash more and make it more noticeable. Or don't shave and find another option like a new medication or hear something for another doctor. Sometimes doctors misdiagnose patients with something and give the wrong medicine for it. If you know this, another YouTuber by the name of JaidenAnimations had a similar situation happen to her. She developed hives from her stress from traveling for conventions and she was misdiagnosed before finally getting the right medication. I know I don't want to compare illnesses here but from my research it seems to be similar enough.

I was also panicking because I actually had the looming intrusive thought of Thomas being bald before and hearing he wanted to do it even for just a short while just triggered me. I have an intense fear of change that I know I need to get evaluated. I was like this with the beard choice too. I was just terrified things would change too much and scare me. He'd change too much. I know change is a part of life and I can't have much say but I can have concern. Another trigger was the fact that I had to shave my head when I was 2 when I was diagnosed with Leukemia cancer. I was like that for three years. Sure I was young and had no say but seeing Thomas bald would have just scared me. And this fear has happened to me before. I was in another fandom before Thomas'. From 2rd grade to 7th grade I watched a channel by the name of Good Mythical Morning. So from 2012 to 2017. Five years. I left when Link changed his hair because I love his old hair. And I'm not the only mythical beast who did. And now that I've been in Thomas' fandom for 5 years now and hear this decision made me fear that....I wouldn't love Thomas anymore. And I don't want that to happen. I know it seems my love is conditional here but..this is just my rampant fear of change because everytime there's a change in my life it's either bad or has a bad outcome. I was petrified, crying and hyperventilating over this. Texting my friends like crazy trying to find some comfort and help in this. It was horrible. I was literally sobbing over the thought of leaving the fandom. I don't want this to be that reason. My thoughts were racing, literally wishing I could go to Thomas directly and beg him not to on my knees sobbing. It was absolutely horrible. The whole day I was uneasy. This happened yet again...when I had my first bi awakening girl crush. Before I joined Thomas' fandom, I met a girl that I fell feeling for after a short while. One of the main things I loved about her was her hair. But when I heard she wanted to shave it off I lost it. Trying to be subtle to her about not doing it because I didn't want to be forceful. After a while she and I cut ties and that broke me. But she indirectly introduced me to Thomas' content. Then when "Moving On" came out, felt like Thomas knew what I was going through. He means so much to me to the point I literally was in tears concerned for him and begging he doesn't do it. I've literally have had intrusive thoughts of him flat out dying in the most gruesome of ways.

I had a concern about how this would effect filming. He said he wanted part 1 at least of the Sides season finale this year. And judging by that if this decision happens, it could postpone filming for it until the rash clears up and the hair grows back. Or even if he didn't shave it all off and managed to find a new thing to clear the rash he'd need to grow back the small amount lost. Again weigh the odds. Seeing it's already May with little updates on it and the fact he has other things he's working on in-between, somethings might have to be pushed back again which could include the season finale. And I know how fanders can get waiting impatiently for new sides content..and I didn't want Thomas to lose more fans, view and revenue because of this set back. I'm pretty sure Thomas will talk to his friend and team about this and how this decision could effect things. Seeing as with the beard, it was obvious it was gonna be shaved for continuity purposes. But this is bigger choice that could propose some issues. If he does shave it off, my guess it would take about 5 months to grow back the amount of hair we're used to seeing him have. Again..could cause a push back.

In short, I was heavily triggered by this decision he tweeted, I panicked over it, I have genuine concerns over his mental and physical health as well as business/project standpoint, and in the end I said what I shouldn't have in that one tweet reply and I am sorry.

I just hope that he doesn't do it for the sakes I mentioned but if he does that it's a non permanent choice(like he said) and hope he finds a cure for the rash and gets his lovely hair back again for the betterment of the future.

Again I am truly sorry.

[slutforsnow]

Chapter 2 of

The Blue Note

Summary: Koton thinks about her past with Miguel and Lyla and her trauma and how much she's grown.

Notes before reading: A big TW for all my abuse survivors! We'll get through it together loves<3 The type of abuse to be shown will be verbal/psychological and signs/mentions of physical abuse (as well as scarring, SH, and blood)

Koton yawned slightly when she was back in her bedroom and she turned on her light. Miguel had her bedroom specially made for her to feel safe and protected. Well, for the most part to keep her sane.

Her old life was terrifying. Constant brightness, constant screaming, constant smashing and shattering; all of it was terrifying. Not one thing could be imperfect, despite living in a place literally called "The Death Realm".

The Death Realm was such an odd place to be living in, but hey, when it's literally the Underworld, it's kinda normal after a few years... or decades; it all really depended on how badly you processed things.

As Koton painfully got out of her suit, she decided to take a shower and get all the dirty, grime, and blood off of herself.

The water was hot to the touch, it was perfect. Hot enough to sear a newborn baby, but not too hot to cause a 2° or 3° burn.

Running her hands through her hair, she thought about everything she saw. The flashbacks were worse this time, as Miguel had said. The plates, the China cabinet, the stairs, and worst of all... the basement... Koton shuddered slightly and began to look at the scars that littered her body. They were all either self-inflicted or from her former family.

Each one had a different story, each more horrifying than the last. Then there was the one of her face, the one most easily hidden... yet also the most vulnerable. Shaking her head to rid herself of being reminded of her past, Koton continued her shower, thinking of how much Miguel has helped her throughout the years.

When they first met, Koton was only 7 and had experienced her first canon event. Her ex-family died in a freak train wreck. Lyla had been watching over Koton and told Miguel about what happened, as she was bitten by a spider whilst she was sobbing in the grass from being overwhelmed, alone, hungry, and shitballs terrified.

Miguel had opened a portal and started to calm her down with all the dad magic he had. He brought her to the Spider Society, that was in the process of finishing construction. He and Lyla took good care of her, helping her with her nightmares and getting her diagnosed for any disorders or chronic illnesses, which helped the three of them because Koton was diagnosed with depression, PTSD, autism, social anxiety, and insomnia. Learning about the disorders and mental illnesses, Lyla and Miguel had raised Koton to be a good person and helped her cope with her trauma, as well as her panic attacks and anxiety attacks.

Over the past 12 years, Koton had started to become more vocal and less shy than she already was. Her fears slowly died down, but never went away completely.

After a while, Koton got out of the shower and she changed into black sweatpants, with purple boxers poking out from the top of her pants, and a grey t-shirt (while silently being happy that she'd forever be an A-cup). Now that she could move at her own pace, her body felt really sore. All her joints were stiff, her stomach hurt, she could feel where the dry blood flakes were sticking to her. She felt awful, though was semi-grateful that her arms and legs were perfectly fine. She didn't need any new scars to be added to her body- and the doctors were probably sick of seeing her after so long.

Yawning, she turned over to her dresser and sleepily smiled at the photo of her and Miguel at her high school graduation. He was proud of her for making it though high school because he knew how much of a hellscape it was and did as much as he could to help her. Koton was worried she'd wouldn't get out of there alive, but she did and she had Miguel to thank.

"Goodnight, Papá..." She mumbled, closing her eyes to try and fall asleep.

[polyamorouspunk]

hey punk. for the sleepover friday post thing, idk i think a bit of a pep talk might be nice.

i've been basically stuck at home for more or less three weeks due to illness, and been feeling kinda down because of it.

anything you can say to like help shake me out of this funk would be appreciated. thanks dude 🤍

I’m not really stuck at home but I am off work for a few weeks and I’m trying to enjoy being kind of bored by telling myself when am I ever going to be getting (supposedly) paid weeks I’m a row off work ever again in the next decade.

There’s no reason to be productive when you’re sick depending on how sick you are. It’s good to let the body rest every once in a while by slothing out and watching TV or reading a booo or something.

Your body does not heal as well under stress, and chronic stress by itself takes a real toll on your body, as much as being a heavy smoker or drinker it seems with the studies that have been coming out recently.

If you’re physically active and out and doing things your body isn’t going to heal as well and you might be suffering long-term damage from it.

It’s only in the last 200 or so years that we’ve started this culture where we now feel negative about taking a break and resting our body due to the constant pressure from our lifestyles telling us taking a break is bad because we need to sell our bodies to capitalism.

It’s one thing in the old days of you felt personally guilty because you had responsibilities or a family to feed and you were out of work because of it: but I mean really like looking at it today we treat taking a week off in food service as if you’re personally dismantling the system of capitalism and making it every person in your state’s problem.

Our bodies were not made for this, and we’re getting a lot worse because of it. I’m not saying you should take the opportunity to be really thankful that you’re so sick you’re going to be home bound for a few weeks. That still sucks. I actually love doing things and am able to because our world has become so instantaneous.

But also I wouldn’t mind just reading a book. I started on my moss rug for my room. It’s going to be a very long process. I’m looking forward to chipping away at it but I wish I could just sit down and focus my creative energy on it instead of splitting my energy eventually between a job and my own creative projects. But alas, money makes the world go round.

Heal yourself. Love yourself. Love your body. Care for it. Do what you can at home to make yourself happy. Understand that if you’re bored it’s not your fault. Try not to feel guilty. Treat yourself gently and with care.

[stuckstucktrolls]

Ok I don't need advice on this just more talking this out for myself and so people know where my brain is at

I think I get frustrated in part because I USED TO enjoy drawing, at least some things, and I USED TO have a style that was alright or at least heading in a direction that I wanted.

And now I don't, on either front.

And it's not really my fault that I dropped drawing and digital art, what with being chronically ill and having to help support myself and hubby. And trying to focus on writing which I was comparatively "better" at, which I was STILL having a hard time keeping up with even then.

But I COULD have made the other choice, to keep working on drawing and maybe I'd be closer still to a style I like (although you'll always hate your style as long as you hate that it looks like you made it. But hopefully that's not my problem? Or I can get past it if it is?) But I'm annoyed that I'll see other people's art and it's like, if I could broadcast what's in my head onto paper, it would be in that style. I don't mean jealousy because I don't begrudge the artist their ability. But I'm frustrated because I know people can draw what I'm seeing in my head the way I see it (or pretty close) but I keep trying to get my brain and hands to work that way, at least in a general sense, and I just can't do it.

Even saw some art recently where the artist drew themselves pretty similar to how I'd draw myself if I could get my hands to do the thing. I hope the artist appreciates their ability even if it might not be the style they want. And if it is the style they hoped they'd have or really close, then I'm happy that the hard work they've put in has paid off.

Hell, I try not to be down on my writing since even if it has some glaring weak points in my own eyes, people have said they wish that they could write like me.

But the few times people have said they like my art, my first assumption was "You must have mistaken someone else's art as mine even though I credit the artist either by reblogging from them when I get comms or mention who drew it if they say to post it myself." And then I panic that I haven't been clear enough about credit.

Granted they always came out of the blue when I hadn't posted my own art recently, so assuming someone was just mistaken made more sense. It's still hard to believe people like my art, because whether or not it's "good", it's not the style I want/am trying for, and on top of that I ALSO don't think it's good. So it's kind of a double whammy of "even if you don't do art yourself, this must look like shit, right? Unless it was from some little kid still figuring out how their hands work. Maybe at best it would be good for a 10 year old who took their first art class recently." But all of this is because I actually WAS a "better artist" by a lot of standards when I was 10. I can see how much worse I've gotten since then, and any improvements have been in a direction I don't want to go.

Somehow that last line feels like it could describe my life in general, not just my experience with drawing and digital art.

[struggles-and-prose]

Life Advice From A Girl Suffering Of Mental Illness

**T.W. Mention of bullying, abuse, germaphobia, mental illness, trauma, regrets, memory loss, car accident.**

If I have just one advice to give y'all who are also suffering from mental illness, it would be to not be afraid to do the things you really want to do but are too scared to do it. Let me explain.

I'm a philomath, meaning I'm a huge nerd. I love learning and studying. I loved school, but only for the learning part of it, obviously. I hated it because I was bullied a lot. And when I say bullied, I don't mean just name calling. No, much, much more and worse sometimes.

At 9 years old (22 years ago), I was hit by a car in front of my house. The driver was in the wrong lane, was over the speed limit and was on the phone. You know, basic idiot. I was too small to see the coming traffic behind the parked cars on my street and though I looked both ways before crossing, I didn't see the car that hit me, coming. All I remember is my friend calling out my name and everything went black. I woke up, laying in the middle of my street, with a bunch of my neighbors, friends and family around me.

I was lucky enough to be lightweight, which somehow made me roll over the car instead of under it. I can't imagine what my two friends at the time felt when they saw me getting hit. It must have been traumatising. I remember they used to tell me they should have been the one to get hit. I was so shocked to hear that because that shit hurt lol.

Well, not quite. I didn't feel anything until they flipped my leg back into place (yes, it was fractured and upside down) and also until I got surgery. Other than that, I wasn't in any pain, funny enough. I however had a concussion and that made me have short term memory loss since. I was good at school, but since my accident, my grades started to go downhill.

Today, I still have short term memory and in addition, chronic pain in my right hip and left leg. You get used to it after a while, but it still sucks and there's days where I don't feel like being strong.

At 17 years old (14 years ago), I had lice and had to shave my head because treatments weren't working and I'm a major germaphobe. Let's just say, it didn't help with the bullying. I went into a deep state of depression and did a burnout. I took a sabbatical and went back to adult ed the next year.

That year, I met my ex and it was the beginning of another nightmare. He made me drop out of school (mind you, I still didn't have my high school diploma) so I could work full time plus overtime to have more money. Needless to say, it didn't work in his favor, considering my mental health was extremely fragile from all his BS, so I couldn't keep a job very long. That made him more upset and, well you get the picture.

2 years later (12 years ago), he finally left me for his next victim. Yes, he left me, not the other way around. Stockholm syndrome is so fun; mark my sarcasm. Since, my memory got worse and my mental health was at an all time low. I took a few months before changing schools again and finally got my high school diploma at 23 (8 years ago).

After that, I wanted to go to college to be able to go to university, but I didn't know in what field yet. I had too many interests, so I couldn't pick lol. But I also was too scared to go. I was afraid to fail and my memory gets worse when I'm anxious. I even tried getting my high school chemistry to become a vet tech and was even accepted to college, but I bailed last minute because I was too anxious and it got me physically ill.

Today, I'm 31 years old, and I have yet fulfilled my dream of going to university. I can't go now, because by the time I'm done, I'll be in my 40s. I either wanted to go into criminology, forensics or medicine. I regret that decision of not choosing to fullfield this dream. I'm stuck in a mind of endless knowledge that I can't even put to use. And though I love learning for pleasure, it pains me deeply to waste it all today.

I see these prestigious universities on television like Harvard or those old, goth looking ones and can see myself studying endlessly in the library on a dark rainy day. But alas, I will never be able to make this dream come true. And though I would love to be able to study like there's no tomorrow, I don't even think my mental health could allow me to. I fall into another burnout and with each of them, the road to recovery gets longer and longer every time.

So, if you're like me and suffer from trauma and/or mental illness, don't make the same mistake that I did. I let my past take control of my life for too long and it still is to this day. Go to college! Got to university! Even if you're terrified, even if you think you can't! Because one day, you might just regret it.

Sorry for the long ass text, lol.

[atlanticcanada]

There's so much demand: Accessing primary care a challenge in N.B.

The New Brunswick Health Council has published the results of a survey on accessing primary care in the province that confirm what many in health care already knew: the system is stretched thin.

According to the 2022 survey, only one in three New Brunswick residents who have a primary care provider could get in to see them within a five day period last year.

Council CEO Stéphane Robichaud said accessing primary care continues to be a challenge and there are many factors contributing to the trend going in the wrong direction.

“There's a higher proportion of people right now that feel a bit overwhelmed when it comes to navigating the system. So that does speak to an uncoordinated, not properly organized resource in how it tries to meet the needs of citizens,” said Robichaud.

The survey states almost 51 per cent of people could get an appointment with their care provider within a five day period back in 2020.

However, that number shrunk to thirty-four per cent last year.

“It's a significant drop. It's worrisome and I think it speaks to the fact that we're adding options, practice options for these physicians, but no one is really keeping an eye on what's the impact on time spent in their own practices,” said Robichaud.

Nearly two-thirds of the population that have a family doctor reported using other services like after hours clinics, pharmacists and the emergency department because their health care provider was not available.

“But the resource itself is staying the same. So what that means is time is being taken away from their own family practice to operate in these other settings,” said Robichaud.

In a statement to CTV News, New Brunswick Medical Society [NBMS] President Dr. Michèle Michaud said the survey confirms what physicians are often hearing from patients – access to primary health care services in a timely manner is a struggle.

“The fact that access has become more challenging over the past few years is not surprising, and can be attributed to a variety of factors,” said Michaud.

One of those factors is burnout, which was made worse during the pandemic when many family physicians were asked to help cover gaps in the health system.

That left them with less time for their own practice.

“The resulting burnout led some healthcare providers to scale back their practice or leave the profession entirely,” said Michaud. “Family physicians also deal with increasing amounts of paperwork and other administrative activities that take away from the time they are able to devote to seeing patients.”

The NBMS also said New Brunswick’s older population is contributing to the challenges faced in primary care.

“Our population is one of the fastest aging, most chronically ill in the country, meaning patient health issues are more complex and time-consuming to treat, which results in longer office visits that leave physicians unable to see as many patients,” said Michaud.

Expanding collaborative care models and bringing more family physicians to the province, and keeping them here, are key strategies according to Michaud.

Robichaud said it’s not a simple fix.

“We need to address who is accountable at the end of the day,” said Robichaud. “In 2018, the council made a recommendation that regional health authorities should be made accountable for primary care.”

Dawna Melanson recently hurt her knee, but hasn’t been able to get an appointment with her family doctor.

She was told to call Telecare and she received the number for a couple of walk-in clinics.

Melanson said it’s been a struggle for her to access care.

“I would say all around for all New Brunswickers, since COVID everything is harder to get things done. It's harder to get in to see a doctor, it's a longer wait,” Melanson said.

“Overall, it must be hard for new people coming into New Brunswick to get health care.”

That's exactly what Laura Corazza is experiencing upon moving back to the province from Italy. She’s having a hard time accessing primary health care, but said she’s fortunate people have been very helpful in giving her a hand in trying to search for a doctor.

“So far, I've come up empty handed. There's so much demand and the waiting lists are extremely long and very few doctors,” Corazza said.

For more New Brunswick news visit our dedicated provincial page.  

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/ke2lXNu

[chocolate-failure]

It's probably time for an update. This shit has been fucking stressful. I never talked about Talullah and I don't think I will in any detail. DIg almost died because he refused to put aside his pride and turn around before he was extremley ill, in turn almost killing me in the process. He spilled my water and couldn't make it through the trail so we had to go backward on a trail that wasn't designed for it. I didn’t have enough time to rest because I was worried about leaving him alone and I kinda never want to go hiking with him again and that's pretty much the in and out of it.

I went to the dentist this past Thursday and was told that while I have been taking care of my teeth that they are all rotting out of my face hole to the tune of a cool $20,000. I need 3 root canals and 4 crowns. That isn't even getting into the 12 some odd fillings I need on top of that. But yeah my teeth were super clean, no tater build up, very little plaque. Which like... I rather have years of build up and a mouthful of teeth that aren't on the brink of rotting 🥴 The dentist told me some people just have bad teeth and that's just really mfkn disappointing. Cuz like of course I purge but it's not as bad as when I was a kid and in recent months hasn't been everyday. I always make sure to wash out my mouth and brush with fluoride mouthwash whenever I purge. I even keep the shit on me when in out and about. When I was a kid I was brushing maybe a few times a week and purging upwards of 6 or 7 times a day. I remember one day counting 14 times and being proud of that shit. God I was so mfkn stupid. But I was also a fucking child. I needed a doctor. I needed therapy, not to be forced to eat by my mother. That only resulted in my teeth rotting out of my face. And being told that makes me even more phobic of food. As delusional as it sounds it very much feels like food is what got me here. It's not like I can undo what my mom did or take something from her to make me whole again, but food... I can continue to avoid that right?

I haven't purged since going to the dentist which is not as impressive or brave as it is pathetic. And the days leading up to the dentist I was pretty good at keeping the purging to a minimum but it wasn't in anticipation of going to the dentist. Anyone who knows ed knows that it doesn't give af about alleviating the stress of whatever else is going on in your life. In fact, it only gets worse as a product of you having other things going on. God I wanna be fucking dead.

Lmfao despite being in fucking crisis right now I was doing okay for the past week. I had an appointment with a psychiatrist last Wednesday and she gave me 3 weeks of latuda samples and a prescription for latuda that I can actually afford. For anyone looking to get latuda the site is canadadrugsdirect.com, they have the generic version that comes out to $100 for 100 40mg pills. For me that's 200 doses which is enough for half a year if I play my crazy cards right. Hopefully I won't need more but even then 100 doses for $100 is way more manageable than $500 for 100 doses for American Latuda. God I fucking hate it here.

Rn I'm at 153, in the tub trying to get that down to something more manageable. I've been extremely stressed this week because of the dentist and dig had a tantrum in the store yesterday that just completely depleted my battery. I'm so fucking done. But of course after getting over the initial shock of all my teeth rotting I drank a bunch of shit and ate more than I usually do. I actually didn't eat a wh9le lot but whatever is going on with me made me super constipated. I drank some dieters tea last night and my poop came out like rabbits' that's never happened to me. It happens with laxatives and smooth move tea but never dieters tea. Whatever is in that shit it literally will give you diarrhea. It just makes my shit loose af but I have really bad chronic constipation so I can actually count the number of times I've had diarrhea outside of being a baby on 2 hands. And I wouldn't be surprised if I asked my mom if I didn't have very few instances of diarrhea as a baby. I literally have some undiagnosed it's and noone wants to fucking listen to me. It's not normal to only shit 4 times a month or have to manually activate your metabolism to avoid having an impacted colon. God I fucking hate this.

But yeah, I ate prob a few hundred under a normal 2000 calories yesterday maybe 1200... it wasn't a lot but maybe I'm also retaining water due to stress either way I went from 146 at the beginning of the week (Tuesday) to 155 this morning. It's driving me up the fucking wall. It feels like I never get a chance to find equilibrium or maybe it just doesn't exist for me. Idk but I'm kinda fucking losing it. It's been nearly 5 months I've been stuck around the low 150s and high 140s. It's been an absolute nightmare and it feels like i can't trust myself or my body to do well by me. I feel like I'm falling apart and I've really only gotten better at pretending I'm fucking fine.

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | Part five

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: pregnancy, chronic illness, spencer's career chance - he's a high school teacher now, they have a 1-year-old, smut at the end but not graphic.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: I imagine this is in season 10, so they've been together at least 7 years-ish now, I just jumped well into the future because I wanted to! also, Cordelia's nickname is Edie and pronounced Ee-dee !!

P1 P2 P3 P4

“No.”

Spencer sighs, “are you going to like any of my suggestions?”

“When you give me a baby name that isn’t from some weird old male book character, then yes, I’ll take them into consideration,” she replies, hand on her stomach as she lays back against the pillows.

She was huge, 9 months pregnant and so, so close to the finish line. She was swollen and in pain and exhausted. Going off every single medication and recreational drugs to make a life was a commitment and a half, she was doing well but she was so ready to be done. To do a few more months of breastfeeding and then go back on her medications.

Spencer was terrific. He was googling and asking Penelope to research things, he had called doctors he knows and friends and did everything in his power to find a way to ease her pain even before they got pregnant. He’s taken the last 3 months off of work and he doesn’t know when he’ll go back. He has just been so, so incredible the whole time.

Naming a child was hard. You had to not only think about all the nicknames and what their initials spell, but you also had to think about how they’ll like it; if it’ll fit their personality and spirit. And most of all, is it going to get them bullied? There are some terrible kid names. Like Richard… how do you name a newborn Richard?

“I want something meaningful with a nice nickname and works with our names and her siblings,” she whispered towards him. “They need to all work together.”

“What are some of your favourites?” He asks, moving in closer and finding a way to cuddle in with her and her pregnancy pillow who has all but replaced him lately.

“I like earthy names, like Lennox, Juniper, Aspen, Elowen,” her voice is really soft, she bites her lip at the end as she thinks them over again. “And old things like Cordelia and Winnifred.”

“Which one sounds the best with Reid?”

“I like Cordelia Reid the most, and then we can call her Edie and I was thinking you can pick her middle name?” She’s been thinking about it for a while, but too afraid to know his opinions.

“Cordelia means core in Latin, which makes sense cause she already has my heart,” Spencer teased, he has made it very clear that their little girl is going to be spoiled, loved and a daddy's girl.

He took all his fears of being a bad dad and threw them out the window. He knew that just being there was all he wanted from his dad, and so that’s what he was going to do. He left the BAU for the time being, he was doing the odd lecture at the academy and answering calls for cases. They couldn’t just stop using his brain, there were some things too pressing to not ask the walking computer, but other than that, he was done.

He was looking into other jobs for when he finally decides to go back, he was unsure how long of a paternity leave he wanted. He was really content with just staying home all the time now, but he did miss going out and being useful during the days. The job he was most interested in, however, was a high school teacher.

A prep school in DC is looking into adding an Anthropology, Psychology and Sociology course to their curriculum, and they wanted Spencer. They thought he would be perfect for the seniors, he is fun and young and attentive, he can control a room and keep them entertained, and he’s probably the best teacher a kid could get.

It was going to make him a good dad too.

“I think Jade is a nice middle name,” he adds after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Cordelia Jade Reid,” she says the full name for the first time and it just feels right, like they already know her.

—

She was very calm for a newborn baby.

She liked to just look around and blink, she licked her lips a lot and she was constantly breaking out of her swaddle. She was always happy to have cuddles with her dad and she pooped every night at exactly at 3 am, without fail. She didn’t cry a lot, but when she did it was still wonderful to hear.

They were so in love with her, she was absolutely perfect for them. She fit right into their sleeping schedule and their life, she ate like a pro, she slept most of the night and she was growing way too fast for their liking.

One day they’re crying over the fact they made a life in a tiny little hospital room, and the next thing they know she’s about to turn 1.

She’s sitting in bed with Y/N, she’s sitting in her lap with two handfuls of hair and a story to tell. She’s been babbling so much lately, she hears them talking all the time and she wants to join so badly. They indulge her, asking her to continue her thoughts and gasping at her gossip.

“No way, and what did you do next?!” She asked the little one sat in her lap.

Edie babbled on once more, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pushed air past her vocal cords, humming and making the funniest sounds. She went on and on, she was so enthusiastic, like her father, as she waved her arms around to make her point.

“That is so fascinating, you are so cool, little Edie,” Y/N hyped her up, smiling at her as she leaned in close and pressed their noses together.

Cordelia laughed and it finally made Spencer giggle too, he had been watching from the doorway as his ‘wife’ and daughter talked in bed. They were best friends already, always talking and snuggling, learning or reading together. She was always happy when she was with one of them, she was needy and snuggly and very co-dependent but they didn’t mind, they preferred all the attention from her.

“Look who’s home,” Y/N whispered and Cordelia shot a glance towards the door, she smiled and screamed as she saw him.

“Hi Edie!” He waves at her with a smile, he takes his bag off and places it by the dresser followed by his blazer.

He gets into the bed and she instinctively reaches for a hug. He wraps her up and she snuggles right into his neck, with a fistful of his shirt, she just holds him there. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t home all day anymore, she missed him for lunch and at nap time but she loved the new routine of a snuggle when she woke up and he got home.

Spencer leans back against the pillows beside Y/N, turning his head to capture a kiss from her lips. They always just spend a quick second kissing when he gets home, even if it’s just a peck or a full-on passionate make-out, he always kisses her when he comes home. He smiles at the end of the kiss, pulling her into a hug too.

“I love Fridays,” he whispers, “Edie do you know what Fridays mean?”

She pulls away and sits up, she loves to listen to him. “Friday is the last day of the school week, which means I get to spend 2 whole days with my favourite people now.”

Edie smiled, almost like she understood what he meant, and then she was talking again, it was completely incomprehensible but they imagined she was telling him about her day.

“You forgot the part where we went to the park,” Y/N added.

Cordelia looked at her with wide eyes, “dada,” was the only word she said before babbling on again and they both stopped.

“Did she just?” Spencer was shocked and frozen still after asking.

Y/N sat up and looked right into Cordelia’s eyes, “who is that?” She pointed at Spencer.

“Dada!” She said it again and they were suddenly all squealing, even Cordelia was suddenly excited as she kept screaming dada over and over again.

“Can you say, mom? Or mama? Mummy?” Spencer tried his hardest to find an easy way for her to say it.

“Mumm,” she pushed her lips together to hum her M sound and Spencer was floored, he bounced her up and down a small amount as they cheered.

“Smartest girl in the world!” Spencer cheered her on before pulling her into another hug.

Y/N was crying softly, little tiny dreams that she didn’t even know she had were coming true every single day with them. She knew she wanted to be a mom when she was growing up, all those dreams died when her illness got worse and they all warned her that having kids would put her at risk of being moneyless and that working wasn’t an option to even support them. Let alone the threat of them taking them away just because of her autism or depression possibly being considered ‘too bad’ to care for them.

Spencer took all those fears and he kicked them out. Every day she got to experience the most precious gifts the world had to offer, her daughter was perfect and her husband was incredible. Together they were a perfect little family that ran on trust, love, and communication. Always talking, always hugging, always there for each other.

—

They crawl into bed much later than they expected to. Cordelia didn’t want to go to bed, she was trying her hardest to keep staying awake to spend time with them but eventually, sleep won. They finally placed her in her crib with her white noise and her complete darkness and closed her door for the next few hours of peace.

They both let out a deep sigh before rolling to face one another. “How was your day?” He asks, like always.

“Good,” she smiles, “I think having a kid and getting on her schedule was the best thing I’ve ever done actually, cause I’m sleeping on time, I’m eating when she does and I’m outside a lot more. She’s given me this purpose and it’s rewarding on my body.”

Spencer moves in so he can kiss her nose, “I love hearing that.”

“How was your class today?” She asks back, loving his little stories about all the 17 and 18-year-olds that were fascinated by him. As well as the kids who thought it was cool to try and pick on him before getting the shit verbally kicked out of them in front of the whole class.

It was interesting seeing him in a form of authority, he never really took charge at the BAU, she’s never seen him yell at his friends and he’s never really yelled at her either. He’s been incredibly calm, so to see him verbally tear someone apart by acknowledging their biggest flaws to make sense of why they feel the need to bully, it was pretty intense.

“They were a lot better today, they enjoyed the lesson and the kids that were giving me trouble skipped, I guess he really didn’t appreciate me calling him out that bad on Tuesday,” Spencer smirked, rolling his eyes like he cared.

“I still can’t believe that he thought it was okay to call you names in front of other students, where is the respect these days?”

“Well,” he’s about to do what he always does. He can never be truly mad at someone because he knows why everyone does what they do and that they can’t help it. “In his file, it says his parents are newly divorced, we get a list of all the kids information on the attendance like allergies and things, but also small info like life changes in case they act out.”

“Doesn’t mean he can call you the f slur,” she whispers, “all because you wore a purple shirt?”

“If I met his father I’d probably get an answer for that,” he adds, “if he’s afraid to show his emotions around his son, it’s probably why his son thinks colours are gay.”

It makes her laugh, “you look hot in purple too so I don’t see the problem?”

“Do I?” He teases, getting in even closer and pressing their bodies together.

She rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and leaning forward for a quick kiss, “I think you look sexy all the time.”

He kisses her as a thank you, “I think the same about you.”

“Even when I haven’t showered in 2 days because she cries if she can’t see me and she cries if she gets wet?” Y/N laughed, annoyed but in love with their little monster at the same time.

“Always,” he reminds her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kisses him again after.

There are probably a million more things to share from the day, but they spend their time kissing instead. It’s been too long since they’ve just rolled around in the sheets making out like they did in the beginning. Before they ever had sex, before they had kids and a house and a love as strong as they do now.

A part of them missed the early days when everything was new and exciting, but she also loved the fact that they knew each other so well that they didn’t have to communicate anymore. They ran like 1 unit, always completing the other person's thoughts, needs and wants. They were so unbelievably happy.

She wants him badly and he wants her just as much, and he’s about to take her when she pulls back. “Nope, as much as I love her I can’t get pregnant again for at least another year.”

It makes him laugh as he pulls away and rolls over to look through his nightstand for a condom, “it wouldn’t be that bad?”

“You carry it then, seahorse it up,” she teased. “I like being back on my medicine, I need some time to be okay before I go through all that again.”

Once he’s all situated in the latex and back between her legs, he hovers over her, so close that their lips are touching ever so slightly. “I am fine if it’s just the three of us forever.”

“I’m not,” she smiles, “there will be 4 of us one day, just not today.”

With that, she’s pulling him into another kiss as he pushing inside. It’s a feeling she’s accustomed to but will never be used to, it’s a stretch that shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is. She holds him closer as she plays with his tongue in her mouth.

He was so good at everything he did, especially the sex. He knew every single part of her body now and exactly how to push all her buttons the right way. She could live in the moment of his pumping in and out of her while his thumb circled her clit and his other hand groaned her breasts. Eventually, he kissed down her throat and she was a mess of breathy moans and low gasps.

Writing in the sheets, her legs wrap around him as she tried to pull him in even closer. It was impossible to get closer but he was still too far away, she wanted to absorb him and live in him forever. He was her safe place and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

As her orgasm bubbled, so did his. The both of them gasping and panting, she whined as she breached the edge and gripped his back, “Spence!”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered before fucking into her harder and faster, pushing her through it as he reached his own.

His movements on her clit never stopped and suddenly one felt like two and she wasn’t sure when the rush was going to stop and she didn’t care when it did. It was powerful, soothing and euphoric. A high she could live in for a while and return to it without problem as long as she had him.

He came with a small moan, trying to keep quiet as he muffled it into her neck, stilling his hips on his last thrust and dropping onto her more. Her hands were all over his back as she pressed kisses to his forehead, coming down but not wanting the love to stop there.

The love was never going to stop there for them. Their love was never-ending, and somehow as she held him there in her arms and felt his breath on his neck, she turned to see the baby monitor with their peaceful child sound asleep down the hall, she loved him even more now somehow.

Loving Spencer Reid was like falling down a bottomless pit. She never knew when she was going to reach the end, but she was content with falling.

smut taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[optionalcausality]

Anxiety is such a frustrating phenomenon to endure.

For me, it's notably a feeling of stress and overwhelm, which contaminates other stuff around it. I often tie it to general tiredness or difficulty with task switching or chronic pain, because those things make it harder to deal with, but they are separate phenomena.

... and I think my brain just recently got 'reset' somehow, because I've been struggling with this for a while, and now I'm not.

Like. Same dietary habits, same caffeine intake, same medications, same work hours & work duties. Same (or slightly worse) terrifying US political landscape. Same (or slightly worse - there's a spike in cases where I live) pandemic news. Same financial situation.

I am trying to think of big things in my life that could possibly be related to this, and there are a couple, and I 100% am serious about this despite the silliness of how this sounds.

I think ExU Calamity was a big part of it. It occupied a large portion of my brain space for a while. (Hyperfixations can do that.) It was extremely good from a storytelling standpoint. You care about the characters and their families and the world they inhabit; you watch the actors themselves fully immersing themselves in that world, laughing and crying and reacting to the story they're shaping together; you watch the DM at times also clearly having moments of being caught up in it.

The whole premise was that this story would end in tragedy, and it did. I thought it would end badly. It didn't. The ending of the finale was among the least bad of the possible endings available to the cast, given how Episode 3 ended, and the machinations of the infernalists and K'nauthi that had been going on for a long while before Episode 1 starts.

The ending was a triumph, because it could have been so much worse.

There was a bit when I was just processing ExU: Calamity, and re-watching particular sections, and enjoying fannish discussions about plot and character and world building and the most excellent cast who brought it all to life.

I think... It matters a lot that the Ring of Brass got their tragic ending, and not the bad ending that I was expecting.

I think that I, and a lot of people, often feel that we (& the world at large) are trapped in an endless spiral of terrible politics, climate change and its devastating consequences, a hopefully not terminal case of late-stage capitalism, and other incredibly unfortunate world states.

I think that a lot of the best endings have been taken off the table. Not for you personally, or for myself personally, but for humankind. For mortaldom.

I think that a lot of people have been working to make the world better. Behind the scenes. Doing the research and writing the papers, yes, but also fostering communities and debugging code and offering alternatives to people who don't realize they have more options than they think.

There's a lot of suffering in this world that doesn't need to be, that should not be, that we didn't choose and are still somewhat complicit in, because the only way to escape society's ills entirely is to opt out and become a hermit or a shut-in. Which is not fixing the problem, merely avoiding it.

There are going to be a lot of people these next few hundred years who do vital things and do not live to see the hopeful times that will come after. Who will not be remembered. Whose work matters, matters as clearly as a diamond is made of carbon, matters as much to this world as the last desperate stand of the Ring of Brass matters to Exandria.

Maybe it's silly. I don't know that I will remain this way, anxiety-free, for long. But I choose to believe that I've got a little more time to remain myself before the anxiety returns.

And I've got a little steel necklace, still in the gift box from when it was given to me. There must be brass rings available at hardware stores or Ren faire stalls or Etsy shops. Maybe Critical Role would be willing to sell them. It wouldn't be a particularly good advertising tool for them, any more than lilac blossoms on the 25th of May are a way to sell Terry Pratchett books.

Anyway. I admit this is silly. But I know I'm going to be at San Diego Comic Con this year, and I think I'm going to carry a brass ring on a chain around my neck.

[altairattorney]

I got pensive and sad about the reasons why I almost completely stopped writing. If any of my readers are still here, after all this time, I would love to share it with you as part of my journey. For my followers and friends in general, there is also a little bit about how my life went in the past few years and what made me leave Tumblr/reduce its use to almost nothing.

First of all, let’s get this out of the way. I always see debate about fanfiction comments dying down because of how social media platforms work and how “engagement” works differently; I see readers wanting to give more kudos but declaring themselves completely unable to write a comment (and if you never learnt how, given the state writing and reading comprehension have been in for so many decades in education, I do not blame you at all. I am serious.) and authors being very angry about how we, who write free entertainment for so many, deserve to at least be rewarded with comments and thoughts. I see people not caring about whatever anyone does, being chill. Here is my take on it. I firmly maintain I always wrote for my own pleasure and NEVER wanted my readers to feel forced to comment. They don’t have to pay me back for anything - I put out my writing for free willingly and I do not feel entitled to a “reward” for it. I am not American and do not buy into this bs line of thinking. However: getting comments is indeed very rewarding and fills me with joy, especially because it makes me feel that I did not create my stories for just myself, or for nothing at all (more on that later). They are so appreciated because they make me meet new people, build friendship over the things we like etc. I do not want to skew your perspective: I get a kudos email at least every other day. I have written so much for so many fandoms that hardly a day goes by without my stories being unread. That in itself is an enormous accomplishment for me. But when it comes to actual interaction or sharing, compared to their view count, my stories have basically only known radio silence for the past 12 years. The most comments I got on a story was never more than 15, and that happened when Gravity Falls ended and people were still eager to read and share in their appreciation.

Over time, as life got bleaker and harder for us all, I understood that writing was an intense feat of emotional and mental labor which I had always underestimated in my early years. Since I was losing joy and emotion for everything, there was little point in doing it for myself; if it was meaningless for other people too and never brought me company nor joy, then I was not able to afford that labor anymore. Little by little, I left it behind. I stopped writing, I stopped checking my accounts, and stopped remembering that I ever wrote fanfiction at all. As sad as I am to admit it, the silence became crushing loneliness in the end. Lack of interaction with my stories took its toll in the long run.

On the other hand, though, the overall reason is much bigger. I just happen to have had a shitty life, as most of you know. When I left high school, after five years of abuse and senseless overwork, I shifted to university with great difficulty. The abuse remained, with the addition of the teaching being close to zero. I worked like hell, never learnt anything important; and my work never was meaningful, well-made or good enough. I came home feeling like a complete failure each day, with the message now confirmed and clear in my mind: I was not capable of creating anything at all.

I graduated one week before my country, the first in the world, went into lockdown. Covid made me stop doing or wanting anything at all, and coincided with a period in which my then undiagnosed chronic illness took a drastic turn for the worse. Worn out, uncapable and unemployed, I lay in bed and in pain, wanting nothing but to die. The sickness lasted for almost three years uninterrupted.

Rejoining my wife is helping me heal, and I am looking for the right medications and treatments to keep improving. In her company, I started watching films and TV shows again. OMFD made me feel the wish to write again -- to add what I would like to see, something of my own. And while my story, eight hours in the making and intensely willed into existence despite my low energy, did very poorly interaction-wise, it gave a glimpse of my desire to write -- still there and still alive.

So yes, lack of interaction played a big role. But what really plunged the knife into my writer self was mental illness. I am fighting to be back, and I hope one day to feel that joy again -- to write for myself and my loved ones, and just not care anymore. P.S.: to my readers who love my stories and always followed me, please don’t let this make you feel meaningless! You matter so so much and you always will.